In Five Came Back, Mark Harris tells the story of five legendary film directors who came together to make war propaganda on behalf of the American government as the US entered World War II. The stories in there are filled with happenstance and circumstance, egos and convictions, and the real and true terror of war.
Tangled in all of that is a group of producers and executives behind the scenes that were often guided by their ideology that provided the financial and motivational incentives for each director to do their work. Figures like Samuel Goldwyn, Darryl Zanuck and Harry and Jack Warner, common place names in film history these days, but often just people trying to do what they can in the face of unprecedented and global strife.
None were immune to personal ambition, or greed, or deception. But as the war began to rage in Europe, many spearheaded ideologically driven films meant to showcase American valor and the evils of the Nazis and facists. These films were unapologetically jingoistic, and not without their own harmful stereotypes. But the people behind them believed deeply in what they were making.
Yet in the build up to the United States taking a role in what was, up to then, a largely European conflict, many of these producers and directors were outspoken in their opposition to the rise of facism. So much so, that a staunchly anti-war Senate with ideological leaders that would often lean in an anti-semitic and even pro-facist stance. They called together a committee, the Nye Committee to launch accusations at filmmakers and studio heads, accusing of them inciting war hysteria, working in secret with President Roosevelt and otherwise riling up Americans with propoaganda.
The studio heads didn’t back down. Lowell Mellet, head of the Office of War Information’s Bureau of Motion Pictures claimed that they were ready to “proclaim they are doing everything they know how to make America conscious of the national peril; that they won’t apologize—just the reverse.”
And that’s basically what they did. One by one, the studio heads defended the works they had put together as acts of personal integrity and honesty rather than blind propaganda. They felt strongly in their ability to speak truth to power, and hold a light up to what was happening across the world. Harry Warner’s speech at the hearings was particularly stirring. “The only sin which Warner Bros is guilty,” he said to the Senate members, “is that of accurately recording on the screen the world as it is or as ith as been.” When members of the committee pushed back and challenged that assertion, and what they presumed as his devotion and total adherence to President Roosevelt, he fired back. “I think in America, we have our own minds and we use them.”
Hollywood missed the mark in the era of World War II, and many times before and since. But there is some lesson to be learned from a time when studios were run by men willing to put their reputaitons on the line in the interest of American ideals. Even when they were challenged by the highest levels of government. Especially when they were.
Compare that to the mealy mouthed statement from Disney after removing, and then bringing back, Jimmy Kimmel.
It is a decision we made because we felt some of the comments were ill-timed and thus insensitive. “We have spent the last days having thoughtful conversations with Jimmy, and after those conversations, we reached the decision to return the show on Tuesday.
No accountability. No ownership. No I statements at all. Hiding behind a facade of corporate blindness.
