Yawn. Poorly Filmed Snooze Fest.

Truly Dreadful Film

Just perfect...

This is a coming of age storyline that you've seen in one form or another for decades. It takes a truly unique voice to make yet another one worth watching.

For all of the spy and espionage thrillers that have been made into movies, people today may be surprised to learn how old the American secret service is – or rather, how young it is. The CIA is the youngest of all the intelligence agencies of NATO nations. It wasn't formed until late 1947. Yet more movies since the last half of the 20th century have been made about or with CIA involvement in the stories than about any other intelligence organization or other government group. Right behind the CIA, with nearly as many movie numbers is the CIA's elder cousin, MI6 of Great Britain. Still, secret intelligence of the espionage type must have been an anathema to North Americans even through two world wars. That point springs from the details of the major Soviet Union espionage scandal that shocked Canada, the U.S. and the rest of the world in 1946. Even growing up during and after World War II, I don't recall ever having heard it being discussed or written about soon thereafter. I do recall watching a TV game show in the mid-1950s in which I first heard the name Gouzenko. But I didn't know about this movie until recent years."The Iron Curtain" was made in 1948. It is the true story, based on the actual events, that led to the world's discovery of the covert espionage activities of the Soviet Union. It was this discovery that some sources label as the beginning of the Cold War according to the Encyclopedia Britannica. Yet, it may never have been known for years or decades to come had it not been for one person – Igor Gouzenko. This movie is his story, from the time he arrived in Canada from Moscow in early 1943 until he defected in Ottawa on Sept. 5, 1945. Gouzenko was a cipher clerk who was loyal to the U.S.S.R. until that time. His wife had arrived from Moscow to join him and their first child was soon born. When he was due to be sent back to Moscow, he decided to defect and take secret espionage files with him. The movie shows how harrowing was his move because of the reluctance of Canadian government offices to believe him, or even to show interest. He even went to a major newspaper and was turned away. How he came to be successful almost seems like a fairy tale. But this is the story on film. Dana Andrews plays Gouzenko superbly. Gene Tierney is his wife, Anna (Svetlana). The supporting cast are all very good in the roles of the top Soviet embassy officials and Canadian Communist party spies. These included Col. Ilya Ranov, head of the Soviet Secret Police (later KGB); Col. Aleksandr Trigorin, chief Soviet military attache; Maj. Semyon Kulin, his deputy; John Grubb (aka "Paul") who established the Canadian Communist Party in 1920 and headed it's espionage activities. While the Soviet embassy officials couldn't be prosecuted, some 39 other civilians and military in government jobs were brought to trial, and 20 convicted of sentences from five years to life in prison. Gouzenko and his family were hidden and protected by the Royal Canadian Mounted Police and later were settled in a home with new identities in a Toronto suburb. He later wrote two books and appeared on TV shows with his head hooded to preserve his identity. He died in 1982 and Svetlana died in 2001. In 2003 Ottawa erected a memorial and in 2004 the Canadian government erected a memorial plaque. Some of the names and details in this film have been changed, but it mostly is an accurate portrayal of Gouzenko and his defection. The film appears dark and somber throughout. It was made in black and white and reflects the conditions under which Gouzenko worked and lived at the time. The movie was shot in the actual locales, and the prologue on the film states that all the documents in the film were the authentic items form the real event. While this film could hardly be considered entertaining, it surely is interesting. It provides a good look at the serious espionage activities of the world's largest Communist power and its threat to democracy and peace. On his arrival in Ottawa in 1943, Gouzenko was grilled by the Soviet Secret Police chief, to test his phony credentials. His opening statement is an example of the indoctrination that the Soviets put their own people through. It's a fitting way to end my comments. Gouzenko, "I am now in a foreign country and must always be alert against enemies. I must be careful of all manner of acquaintanceship. I must not engage in cordial conversation with any foreigner whatsoever. Never borrow money from a foreigner. In my apartment, I must be respectful to neighbors but make no friends. I must never permit myself to be more drunk than either my guests or my host. A sober brain, a firm tongue, and alertness. These things must always be with me when I'm with foreigners."

There's a moment in William Wellman's Anti-Communist propaganda film that captured why The Iron Curtain is on the same level as another great Canadian film, The 49th Parallel. In short order, Soviet officer Dana Andrews, a military cypher for the USSR in Ottawa at the end of WWII, has seen a compatriot threatened with being sent back to Russia, and the fellow officer drunkenly comments on how awful it is to be threatened with returning to one's own country, has been informed by his wife, Gene Tierney, that she doesn't want their son to grow up in a world where everyone is afraid, and sees the aforementioned officer in the death throes of despair as he drinks himself into oblivion.It's a powerful triple shot that convinces Andrews, playing a real- life member of the Russian Embassy staff, that his future lies with the free people of Canada. The Iron Curtain is a spy thriller and an espionage thriller. Since spy and espionage are the same thing, the difference, the two-sidedness of the movie comes in the dual stories. We see the workings of the apparatchiks in the embassy (I loved the character actor, a man I grew up watching on TV in many roles, who runs the secret-decoder ring operations of the embassy--he has to drown out the sound of conversation with Soviet-approved music, and he HATES music!), but the movie takes great pains to show the subversives working for the Soviets in the Canadian government. It's a feverish, nauseating sight when the tentacles of the Communist octopus reach out, farther and farther, to further the Soviet's version of Marxist-Leninism. On a propaganda level, the baddies all look like pedophiles--humorless, colorless masses of skin you'd never suspect as traitors and subversives. I greatly appreciated The Iron Curtain for its painstaking approach to reminding us that free speech and free assembly, that freedom itself breeds optimism. The average folks who come in contact with the Soviets and their sympathizers are a cheerful lot. Early in the movie, Andrews goes out dancing with Embassy Secretary and Bitch-Goddess, June Havoc (about as scary a beauty as Charlize Theron in one of those weird perfume commercials she does). You notice very quickly the folks in the night club are happy and relaxed. They know a war is on, but they aren't going to relent to the doom and gloom because their optimism won't allow it. Being a small-d democrat is antithetical to dreary, authoritarian pessimism. The atmosphere in the dance hall is a heady elixir, and Havoc takes Andrews there to see how he reacts to the evil hedonism of foolish capitalists. She wants to see if Andrews is prone to being a blabbermouth. He confronts her with his knowledge of what she's up to, and he compares her beauty with that of his wife (Tierney), and it's not a nice comparison for Havoc. When VJ Day is declared, Andrews and his wife listen to a radio broadcast from San Francisco wherein the announcer speaks of the allied soldiers who aren't going to have to fight their way onto the beaches of Japan, that theirs is a celebration of salvation. The announcer's voice almost cracks with emotion about blessed peace. Democracy isn't always cheerful (sometimes hard decisions have to be made), but the thought that individuals hold the power to govern themselves, that an informed public is made up of informed individuals is a thing to put a smile on the viewer's face.As the story unfolds, we begin to suspend our disbelief in what we are seeing, and not because the movie is introduced with a voice-over declaring the authenticity of the story. When Andrews finally decides to defect, to deliver stolen documentation of Soviet perfidy to the Canadian authorities, he's rebuffed repeatedly. Canadian apparatchiks, both in government and in the press think he's a nut, so the menace of execution for him and his wife and the guaranteed reprisals against family members at home is palpably real. Andrews takes his family back to their apartment (Was the real Igor Gouzenko that stupid?) where he is confronted by three members of the Russian thugocracy, and it's only when a pair of perplexed Ottawa constables arrive to find out what all the fuss and bother's about that the viewer stops holding the remote way too tightly.Finally, if you know what "Program Music" is, then you will see it put to great use in The Iron Curtain. I think four Russian composers had their work used in the movie; Shostakovich is the one I recognized, and he was a master of what we would simply recognize as "movie music," background music designed to heighten emotion. Here, the composers' works are used to add both suspense and to be a plot device. Remember the room I mentioned with the guy who hates music? Shostakovich is blaring in the background, to the point where the viewer wants to yell, "Turn that stuff down, will ya!" It's jarring and unnerving and utterly effective.The same way the movie is in reminding us why totalitarianism is designed to crush souls and democracy is designed to elevate them.I would strongly recommend taking some time to see The Iron Curtain and The 49th Parallel, two great propaganda pieces that remind us why democracy is a good and noble thing.

Clearly, this was a TCF prestige production. Impresario Sol Siegel produced, auteur William Wellman directed, popular leads Andrews and Crain starred, while Canadian locations were as accurate as possible. Based on a true story of Soviet espionage, the framing lends genuine authenticity. Not too much exciting happens until the last 20-minutes, when defector Gouzenko tries to get skeptical Canadian authorities to believe his story. That must have been hair-raising, his life on the line.But make no mistake, the narrative is turned into propaganda, sometimes crude, sometimes slick. It's not a question of basic facts. Those I take to be true. Instead, it's a question of stagecraft, namely, how the facts are presented. In short, it's not the 'what' but the 'how'. Note how Soviet officials are presented by the movie makers. How they apparently hate full light— seemingly only to exist in noirish shadow; how they never smile, apparently having no inner feelings; how they only speak in a mechanical manner, apparently having no thoughts of their own; and how they apparently don't love their wives, Gouzenko's fidelity marking him as a potential defector. Indeed, this is Hollywood's attempt to turn on a dime, yesterday's ally becoming today's enemy. In short, TCF had to take up the Cold War too, of which this film was a key entry. Speaking of spying on allies, we might ask Germany's current chancellor Angela Merkel how she likes having her phones bugged by our own NSA. Understandably, it created quite a diplomatic stir (Google 'merkel and spying'). My point is not to defend the Soviets specifically. Rather, it is to point out an important part of cinematic propaganda. Namely, that it's not sufficient to present the basic facts, as some folks believe; it's also how those facts are presented, and here the manner is clearly propagandistic. Soviet stereotypes are created that would endure. My larger point is to beware of any effort to de-humanize an enemy no matter how detestable they may seem. For such an effort can also be turned around on us.

...done in the "documentary" style then used by Fox, even using the same narrator used in other, similar pictures, such as "The House on 92nd Street" from a few years earlier.This picture shows much effort and talent, but somehow it doesn't quite come off, perhaps because it was clearly approached as a propaganda film, almost shrill in its pro-Western slant, just as the Cold War was beginning.What I noticed most about the picture was its artful and effective use of music by Soviet composers, without crediting them except in the dialogue. As a musician I am shocked and appalled to learn that these composers' music was used without their permission. The Fifth Symphony of Prokofiev, which is quoted extensively, had only been given its Western premiere a few years before this picture was released, and was then given a landmark 1945 recording, by Koussevitzky and the Boston Symphony, for Victor Records. Using the music of these composers without their knowledge or permission is like stealing!I don't understand how a serious musician like Alfred Newman could have been party to this. Perhaps he thought he was making a patriotic, pro-Western statement, but as an artist he should have known how these composers would feel.