Real Emotional Logic: House on 92nd street

Lipkin argues that docu-dramas, in order to work, rely on an almost unspoken agreement between the film maker and the audience – a suspension of disbelieve whereby the audience accepts at the very premise of the film, and at face value, that the blending of these two genres is in fact the best, if not the only way that the subject matter can be presented. This is particularly evident in TCF post World War II docudramas; House on 92nd street comes to mind. At the beginning of the film, the cast credits are the first thing the viewer sees, printed on FBI logo paperstock with “Federal Bureau of Investigations” official cover sheet and the words “Twentieth Century Fox Presents” imposed over it (as part of the titling of the film). From the very outset, the viewer is situated somewhere between the two planes of documentary (the FBI paperstock) and a dramatization (the Twentieth Century Fox logo). Inside this FBI file are the cast,credits, and a message to the viewer that the story is adapted from espionge cases from the files of the FBI, and was made with their complete co-operation. The text says “It[the film] could not be made public until the fist atomic bomb was dropped on Japan.” Right away we see the justification that Lipkin predicts. Lipkin says “re-creation and fictionalization are warranted – justified – to the extent that the resulting docudrama indicates its connections to actuality”. Lipkin goes on to discuss that Zanuck, the studio head at TCF, was among the first studio heads to take his crews on location and this information, is in fact, next to appear in our FBI file of movie credits and info. We learn that the picture was filmed on location when possible in the “actual place the original incident occurred”. Upon close inspection of the film and the information we have been give so far, we learn that this story (fiction, mind you) was based on a series of various cases from FBI files – yet here we are told that there is an original incident, singular, that is about to be illustrated. Already we have made a subtle suspension of disbelief, and we are only one and a half minutes into the film. Just in case we are still skeptical, however, the next information we are given is that all F.B.I personnel in the picture are actual members of the FBI. If we weren’t ready to make that leap of faith moments ago, we likely are now.
Lipkin states that many of these docu-dramas were categorized as film noir, but also as social problem films. TCF, due to it’s frequency of the production of these films were making a “strategic effort to exploit actuality” because, Lipkin argues, the market demanded it. These films did extremely well at the box office, were widely praised by critics, and really seemed to speak directly to the needs of a post WWII America – perhaps something about the mix of fiction and reality; the conventions of fiction filmmaking that prescribe a tidy narrative and formal closure mixed with the authenticity and centering voice of moral authority, command, control, and assurance common in documentaries all solidified by deliberate studio choices - such the formal choice of casting b-list actors who were familiar but could also be anybody - was a safe and effective way for Americans to recover from some of the trauma and social issues that WWII brought to light. These TCF fox films were probably just the right timely balance of reality to make them seem relatable, relevant, and credible, mixed with a fiction that allowed the viewer to “get lost” in the film and then feel a sense of resolution and resulting security that was probably missing from their lives.