THE HOUSE ON 92nd STREET: Blu-ray (2oth Century-Fox, 1945) Kino Lorber

At the end of World War II, Hollywood emerged as a leaner and meaner assembly line, where the dreams previously dared to come true had suddenly taken a seemingly ‘wrong turn’ down much darker byways. While the froth that had sustained Tinsel Town throughout the dirty thirties was still being produced, in its wake there were more sobering entertainments that began to dominate movie screens; intensely emotional melodramas and psychological horror movies that examined the struggles of life, and crime pictures, usually featuring a strong stoic type, sleuthing and slogging his way through the underbelly of ‘polite society.’ Although as yet not collectively coined, the film noir movement had greatly influenced the look of virtually every time-honored genre - even the woman’s weepy, and most certainly, the drama and actioner. And Hollywood, perhaps conscious that at war’s end, the world had changed – not altogether for the better – and even more acutely aware returning G.I.’s would bring with them the emotional baggage of what they had experienced abroad, sought, at least in part, to satisfy the public’s growing need for more truth and realism at the movies. And thus, we come to Henry Hathaway’s The House on 92nd Street (1945) – a picture that could never have been made before, or even during the war; its subject matter - foreign intervention threatening to topple America from within - too fancifully grim and sinister for the public to digest. But at war’s end, with estimates slowly begun to trickle into the public consciousness, that between 22,000,000 and 30,000,000 people had perished in the European theater of conflict, Hollywood’s natural aversion in skirting the realities and horrors to tell more romanticized stories about the war - Mrs. Miniver (1942) or Since You Went Away - (1944) while it played live a continent away, now began to reexamine these definitions of valor and sacrifice against the thought-numbing human toll on society at large.
The House on 92nd Street was therefore a very important picture in its day, and one ‘personally supervised’ by 2oth Century-Fox’s mogul and master storyteller, Darryl F. Zanuck, who regarded it as something of a prestige project. Indeed, it received the full complicity and backing of Washington’s Federal Bureau of Investigations, with a cameo from its director, J. Edgar Hoover, who also supplied real agents to play most of the agents in the movie. Zanuck, who had begun his career as a newsman, implicitly understood the power of a good story – one, firmly anchored in truth, and so, The House on 92nd Street served as something of the public’s introduction to the FBI – an organization that most knew virtually nothing about. It also provided both a back story and a case file to whet the public’s appetite for a good yarn about counterespionage. The screenplay by Barré Lyndon, Jack Moffitt and John Monks Jr., from a story by Charles G. Booth, is actually based on the real-life case of William G. Sebold, who became inveigled in a plot to dismantle the Duquesne Spy Ring in 1941, the largest convicted espionage case in U.S. history, resulting in 33 arrests, including Nazi spy master, Fritz Joubert Duquesne. Combining stock footage shot in and around Washington D.C. with traditional sets constructed back in L.A., The House on 92nd Street tries to achieve a sort of uncanny verisimilitude regarding the particulars of this case, with names changed to protect the innocent and perhaps avoid a few lawsuits – even from the guilty.
We turn back the clock to 1939; the eve of WWII, where all-American university student of German extraction, Bill Dietrich (William Eythe) is cautiously approached by Nazi recruiters to become an informant. Feigning interest, Dietrich instead notifies the FBI of this probe, taken very seriously by Agent George Briggs (Lloyd Nolan, playing a knock-off of Sebold). With Dietrich’s complicity, Briggs encourages him to accept the recruiter’s offer. Traveling to Hamburg, Dietrich is given an intense 6-month crash course in international espionage. Sufficiently trained, he is sent back to the United States to set up radio contact on Long Island and relay secret information on shipping arrivals, departures, destinations, and cargo. Dietrich is also made paymaster for the spies presently operating at the mysterious house on East 92nd Street in New York City. He is told that only a certain ‘Mr. Christopher’ may alter the particulars of his assignment. Sharing his microfilmed credentials with the FBI, Briggs decides to alter them so Dietrich has open access to contact all of the spies directly. The 92nd St. residence, a multi-storied building, is using a dress shop on its main floor, operated by Elsa Gebhardt (Signe Hasso), as its cover. Immediately suspicious of Dietrich's high level of clearance, Elsa requests confirmation from Germany.  As no reply to her query is forthcoming, she has no alternative but to allow Dietrich full disclosure. Alas, Dietrich's other ‘legit’ contact, Colonel Hammersohn (Leo G. Carroll), denies knowing the real identity of the illusive ‘Mr. Christopher’.
Meanwhile, in an unrelated incident, a German spy is killed in a horrific traffic accident. On his person, is found a cryptic message, suggesting Mr. Christopher will contact him with developments on Process 97; an alarming development to Briggs, as Process 97 is America's top-secret atomic bomb project. After the Japanese attack Pearl Harbor, the U.S. is forced to enter the war. Most of the spies Dietrich has already identified are immediately rounded up. However, Briggs purposely neglects Gebhardt's spy ring, hoping it will eventually reveal the true identity of Mr. Christopher. Growing ever more pensive, Gebhardt orders Dietrich to transmit a key portion of Process 97 to Germany. However, in preparing his broadcast, Dietrich takes notice of an innocuous cigarette butt in Gebhardt’s ashtray. Knowing Gebhardt does not smoke, Dietrich smuggles the butt out of her apartment and has it sent to the FBI for forensic analysis.  The clue is traced to Luise Vadja (Renee Carson), whose ‘boyfriend’ is Charles Ogden Roper (Gene Lockhart), a scientist working on Process 97. Under interrogation, Roper breaks down and confesses to planting the last bit of his research inside a copy of Spencer's First Principles at a nearby bookstore from where someone believed to be Mr. Christopher will collect it. Having achieved their objective, Briggs orders the immediate arrest of Gebhardt's ring. Alas, Gebhardt finally receives a reply from Germany confirming her worst suspicions about Dietrich. Injecting him with scopolamine to probe his mind for the rest of the story, she is, as yet, unaware her building has already been surrounded by government agents. In the ensuing struggle and frantic plans to make her escape, the house is set on fire and Gebhardt, disguised as the elusive Mr. Christopher – a part she has played all along - now makes a failed gesture to steal away in the night with the vital papers on Process 97 retrieved from the bookstore. Mistaken as a government agent by one of her own, Gebhardt is mortally wounded while scaling the fire escape. The rest of the spies are rounded up by the FBI and Dietrich is rescued from the blaze unharmed.
The House on 92nd Street is part police procedural/part actioner and part documentary drama. Its uneven screenplay and lack of any real stars in the leads is, perhaps, a hindrance to its enduring popularity today, although, in hindsight, it definitely adds to the ‘newsreel’ flavor of the piece. William Eythe delivers a credible performance as the congenial young man whose head is supposedly turned by foreign interests against America’s secret weapon. Eythe, a closeted homosexual in life, began his career in live theater and on the radio before landing a contract at Fox; his debut in The Ox-Bow Incident, followed by a brief appearance in The Song of Bernadette (both made and released in 1943) eventually leading to more plush parts in The Eve of St. Mark, and, Zanuck’s super-production of Wilson (both in 1944). In hindsight, The House on 92nd Street really was Eythe’s ‘big break’ – the first picture for which he was meant to ‘carry the load’ as a leading man. The picture’s success led to a command performance given before King George VI, and a move to England after Fox released him from his studio contract. But by 1948, Eythe was back in pictures state’s side, and also appearing on Broadway and, later, television – a very hard-working and prolific actor. Despite his heavy workload, Eythe somehow never managed to break into ‘the big time’ – his popularity on the wane by the late fifties. Tragically, Eythe died of hepatitis in 1957. He was only 33-years old.  
The closest that The House on 92nd Street has to ‘a star’ is Lloyd Nolan – then, considered a plug n’ play actor’s actor, who could be counted upon to give a credible, if hardly showy performance.  Nolan would reprise the part of Briggs in Fox’s The Street With No Name (1948), and eventually find a kind of immortality as a popular supporting actor on many prominent TV shows throughout the late seventies and early eighties. The House on 92nd Street was an interesting anomaly – even for Fox. Clearly, director, Henry Hathaway and Zanuck are interested in making a movie that feels like a documentary, or, at least, possesses the testimonial clout of a vintage Movietone newsreel about espionage circa 1939-40. The intrusive voice-over narration is supposed to instill a sense of the ‘now’ into these fictional proceedings. Instead, it thoroughly interrupts and even stalls the plot, offering obvious bits of information, such as “Bill turned over his findings to the state department” even as we are observing Bill doing just that on the screen. Honestly, is there any reason why the audience could not figure out at least two thirds of the story line without this play-by-play commentary?
Kino Lorber’s Blu-ray release sports a 1080p transfer that is at least a decade old, and derived from flawed elements that have not been afforded a more complete – and necessary – restoration to spiffy them up for hi-def. The gray scale is sufficiently rendered. Alas, there is an excessive amount of film grain during some of the stock shots, and particularly in rear projection – forgivable, but never entirely massaged into the more polished look of the scenes shot under optimal lighting conditions inside a studio. This creates a decided disconnect in the visual story-telling style that, likely was less noticeable in projection. There is also a slight bit of edge enhancement detected and age-related artifacts are everywhere. Contrast is okay, at best – with many of the outdoor sequences appearing to have been artificially boosted.  Overall, the image quality here has a fairly dated look – neither boding well for the picture’s appeal as a fictional entertainment or even as a pseudo-documentary. The DTS 1.0 audio is adequate. We get an audio commentary from Eddie Mueller – well worth a listen – and an animated ‘stills’ gallery and theatrical trailer. Bottom line: The House on 92nd Street – although an important picture in its day, does not exactly hold up as a compelling entertainment when viewed today. The Blu-ray is just average, and in spots, below that, in terms of overall quality. Judge and buy accordingly.
FILM RATING (out of 5 - 5 being the best)
3
VIDEO/AUDIO
3.5
EXTRAS

3

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