4 posts categorized "Propaganda "

August 23, 2017



Created during America’s ham-fisted effort at producing propaganda films during the early 1940s era of World War II, “The House On 92nd Street” stands as a noxious example of patriotic pap disguised as faux docu film noir. For all of the film’s publicity about it featuring actual FBI footage, the filmmakers couldn’t be bothered to use the film’s promised 92nd street location; the building featured was located on 93rd street just east of Madison Avenue in Manhattan’s Carnegie Hill district.

The picture was made following the same period that Luis Buñuel was hired to edit U.S. propaganda films for the Museum of Modern Art from 1940 to 1942 before Government agents got a hold of Salvador Dali’s 1942 autobiography that named Buñuel as an atheist and a Marxist. The powers in charge had misunderstood Buñuel’s political persuasion when he replied that he was a “Republican,” meaning that he sided against General Franco’s fascist regime which was responsible for the deaths of more than one million civilians during the Spanish Civil War. Therein lies a clue about where American political leanings bent. Dali's revelation caused Buñuel to be fired from his post at MoMA.

92nd street

Hokey as a three-dollar-bill, “The House On 92nd Street” layers on heavy-handed voice-over narration by newsreel standard bearer Reed Hadley about the oh-so-reliable FBI’s ability to defeat foreign (namely Nazi) spy operations attempting to take seed on U.S. soil. J. Edgar Hoover’s name gets dropped a lot. Bombastic music underscores a pre-roll that credits all but the “leading players” as F.B.I. personnel. “Actual F.B.I. surveillance films” show men carrying trunks into the German embassy in Washington D.C. Director Henry Hathaway professedly shot the footage himself, guerilla-style. Nevermind that the pulp story by Charles G. Booth takes place in Manhattan. Fifteen minutes of such preamble is necessary before William Eythe’s double agent Bill Dietrich is ordered into action to investigate shenanigans at Elsa’s Dress shop at 53 E 92nd street. Signe Hasso plays Elsa Gebhardt as a villain with avarice dripping from her every movement and word.


Although loosely based on the F.B.I.’s Duquesne espionage ring which captured more than two dozen spies and traitors, “The House On 92nd Street, is most memorable for Elsa’s last minute transition into male form with the aid of a man’s suit, hat, and a handsome pair of two-tone high-button shoes. I wonder if the film’s producer Louis de Rochemont (of “March of Time” newsreel fame) would have given the film’s leading part to William Eythe if he knew that Eythe was a closeted gay actor. Considering that J. Edgar Hoover exerted his considerable will over the picture, perhaps all is as was intended. Either way, “The House On 92nd Street” is a laughable piece of American propaganda for all of the reasons you’d expect. The U.S. political machine has never understood how to under-promise and over-deliver. Rather the reverse is always proven to be true. With cartoon villains and overconfident heroes like these around, no one is safe.

House on 92

Not Rated. 88 mins. (C-) (One star — out of five / no halves)

September 01, 2014



Pro-Israel Propaganda: Elvis Style

The-identicalA shoo-in for a spot on any worst movies of 2014 list, this poorly constructed slice of propaganda, courtesy of the Messianic Jewish Alliance of America (MJAA), is so unintentionally campy you can’t help but laugh. Atrocious costume designs, anachronistic dialogue, wretched music, and tone-deaf performances are abundant.

It’s rare that a film as amateurish as this one gets a wide North American theatrical release, or that such a dubious project drags down two otherwise reliable Hollywood B-list actors with it. Remember Ray Liotta and Ashley Judd? How the nearly mighty have fallen. From the looks of it, you’d never guess that Ashley Judd (“Kiss the Girls”) and Ray Liotta (“Goodfellas”) were once hot commodities in Hollywood. Here, Ray Liotta gives such an unbearably hammy performance, in a make-up heavy role that spans roughly 35 years, that you wonder why he isn’t doing community theater — or community service — in Salinas. If Liotta’s aging process is embarrassing, Judd’s performance, as Liotta’s non-aging Southern wife with the IQ of a child, is plain bizarre.

Hopefully the MJAA compensated Liotta and Judd for decimating their future earnings potential.

Screenwriter Howard Klausner must have used a ghostwriter to pen his only previous script, the Clint Eastwood-directed film “Space Cowboys” (2000), because Klausner’s cliché-riddled screenplay for “The Identical” is something you’d expect from an underachieving high school student.

Watch as a slimy entertainment manager throws handfuls of cash into the air! Listen to the worst Southern accents you’ve ever heard! Marvel at a plotline so pretentious even a five-year-old wouldn’t buy it!

Debut director Dustin Marcellino was presumably given the gig by his Motown record-producing grandfather Jerry Marcellino, whose ludicrous attempts at writing original [partial] rock ‘n’ roll songs pepper the movie like so much aural dishwater (as sung by a very skilled Elvis impersonator). Cringe-worthy lyrics arrive at regular intervals during stage performance sequences that go on too long regardless of their strict 90-second abbreviated form.

“City lights keep on shining, remind me of the love we knew. City lights keep on shining, I see your smiling eyes of blue.” Barf.

The film’s preachy religious and political narrative stretches back to the Great Depression. William and Helen Hemsley are a young unemployed Christian couple with more dumb lust than common sense. They follow the Bible’s teachings to “be fruitful and multiply” in spite of the fact that they can’t even feed themselves. The couple’s identical twin offspring present more economic strain than they can handle. A visit to a Bible-thumping sermon by Reverend Reece Wade (Liotta), an ostensibly Baptist minister with Jewish leanings, plants in William the idea that “it is better to give than to receive.” Reverend Wade underscores the oversimplified ethos of his rote sermon with the over-shared disclosure that he and his wife Louise (Judd) are unable to procreate.

The next day, William and Helen pay a visit to the Reeces with an offer to hand over one of their twin children to appease their dilemma. Oh the transgressive blessings at hand. The Hemsleys conceal their well-meaning deed by claiming the death of their child. They go through the motions of a minister-attended burial, complete with an empty shoebox coffin.

IdenticalYears pass. Enter Elvis impersonator and real-life Elvis lookalike Blake Rayne (real name Ryan Pelton) in the dual role of the Hemsley’s separated-at-birth twins Ryan and Drexel. Although minister Reece tries to bring Ryan up to follow in his footsteps as a preacher, Ryan can’t resist the boogie-woogie calling of the devil’s honky-tonks on the outskirts of town. No one seems to notice that Ryan sings exactly like the King. This must be an alternate universe. Indeed, when papa Wade gives a ridiculously oversimplified sermon, praising Israel’s victory in the 1967 Six-Day War, he goes so far as to bring out an inexplicable menorah for his Christian congregation to scratch their heads over.

Ryan and Drexel look and sound exactly alike, except that Drexel is a successful rock ‘n’ roll recording artist, and Ryan is a talented wannabe who fails to recognize his resemblance to Drexel as anything more than a weird coincidence. Ryan is content to sing along to his brother’s records and perform at local amateur night competitions. Forget about any willing suspension of disbelief; “The Identical” is all about blank naiveté. Even when Ryan and Drexel come (nearly) face to face, neither one calls out their obvious blood relation.

Presumably, the Messianic Jewish Alliance of America produced “The Identical” (under their City of Peace Films company) to intangibly drum up Christian support for Israel. There’s coincidence in the fact that the movie opens at a time when Israel is coming under fierce global criticism for its military actions against Palestine. This is a movie you can laugh at, but you won’t be able to enjoy.

Rated PG. 107 mins. (F+) (Zero Stars - out of five/no halves)


Click Here to Visit the FilmBlog for Artwork, Movies, Music, News, Photos, Politics, Posters, Reviews, Trailers, Videos, and More...

October 15, 2006


Oliver Stone’s Ruins

The Famously Leftist Director Succumbs To The War Machine

World_trade_centerOliver Stone has gone against his trademark lefty identity to make a syrupy and gruelingly flat cinematic ode to two policemen (John McLoughlin and William Jimeno) who survived being buried under 20 feet of rubble in the collapse of the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001. With an astonishingly accurate production design by Jan Roelfs, Stone attempts to reveal the inner psyche of the survivors during their darkest hours while exemplifying the turmoil that their families suffered. But Stone dampens the universal survivor story with meek brush strokes aimed at supporting the right wing’s revenge mentality that ran amok after the 9/11 attack.


Worse than film’s inability to create an eventful dramatic arc is the rushed timing of a movie that waves a flag in the face of continuing American war atrocities that have sent hundreds of thousands of civilians to their death since 9/11. Nevertheless strong performances by Maggie Gyllenhaal, as Will Jimeno’s pregnant wife, and Michael Shannon, as a mentally unbalanced Marine, add much needed character contrast to the movie.


For all of the film’s evasive insistence that it steer clear of politics Stone can’t avoid sprinkling in mixed messages of perplexed political subtext. We first meet ex-marine Staff Sergeant Karnes (Michael Shannon) as he communicates with God in a Connecticut church. Karnes perceives that God tells him to go to New York to help with the disaster relief. He he illegally dons his marine fatigues and gate crashes the collapse site as a lone marine rescuer. Karnes carefully steps around the site at ground zero repeatedly calling out for any survivor to make a sound. He’s soon joined by another combat-dressed marine on the same mission.


The story seems to say, were it not for some loopy marine on a personal mission from God, John McLoughlin and Will Jimeno would have perished since no other responders dared to search the still-smoking rubble.


Oliver Stone made his name as a firebrand director based on consciously lefty-minded films such as "Salvador," "Platoon," "Born On The Fourth Of July," "J.F.K." and "Nixon." Why then would Stone suppress his socialist instincts to tell an intrinsically politically charged story with barely any reference to fundamental local, national, and governmental mistakes--intentional or otherwise--that leveraged a crime scene into cause for war without so much as a thorough investigation.


Twenty people were pulled out of the World Trade Center’s debris and saved.

Rated PG-13. 129 mins.

2 Stars


Groupthink doesn't live here, critical thought does.

This website is dedicated to Agnès Varda and to Luis Buñuel.

Get cool rewards when you click on the button to pledge your support through Patreon. Thanks a lot pal!

Cole Smithey on Patreon

Featured Video

SMART NEW MEDIA® Custom Videos



Throwback Thursday

Podcast Series