CHAPTER 7
In 2002, Lion Rock Productions and Metro Goldwyn Mayer (MGM) released the film Windtalkers. Directed and produced by John Woo and starring Academy Award–winning actor Nicolas Cage, the film follows U.S. Marine corporal Joseph Enders as he returns to active duty after surviving a battle in the Solomon Islands against the Imperial Japanese Army. Enders’s new assignment is to protect Private Ben Yahzee, a Navajo code talker. Sergeant Pete “Ox” Henderson receives a similar order to protect code talker Private Charlie Whitehorse. The Navajo men, along with others, use their language as an effective means of coding sensitive messages and protecting their contents from the Japanese. This code, according to the military, must be protected at all costs. As a result, Enders and Henderson are ordered to kill Privates Yahzee and Whitehorse if their capture appears imminent.
The story, while a work of fiction, does relate to actual people and events. During World War II, the Marine Corps selected twenty-nine Navajo men to serve as the Navajo code talkers. Using their unwritten language, the men created a code that assigned Navajo words to certain phrases and particular military tactics. According to the CIA, the code talkers could translate, transmit, and retranslate messages in mere minutes. During the invasion of Iwo Jima, the code talkers sent more than eight hundred messages—without an error. Their skills were used in “every major operation involving the Marines in the Pacific theater.”1
The original screenplay for Windtalkers includes a scene in which a Marine called “the Dentist” sneaks across a battlefield full of dead Japanese soldiers. In the scene, the audience sees “the Dentist, bent over a dead Japanese soldier, doing what he does, relieving the dead of the gold in their mouth. The Dentist twists his bayonet, struggles to get the gold nugget out of the corpse’s teeth.”2 As detailed by journalist David Robb, this is one of several scenes in Windtalkers that was included in the original script but never made it into the film. The scene was jettisoned at the behest of the Department of Defense (DOD).
“This [the scene] has to go,” read a memo from Captain Matt Morgan, head of the Marine Corps’ film liaison office, to Phil Strub, the DOD’s Hollywood liaison. “The [defiling of corpses] is un-Marine. . . . I recommend these characters be looting the dead for intelligence or military souvenirs—swords, knives, field glasses. Looting is still not cool, but more realistic and less brutal.”3 Morgan sent a memo to Terence Chang, director John Woo’s production partner, stating that the DOD was unhappy with the character and his conduct. In the next version of the script, not only had the scene in question been removed, but the entire character of the Dentist was removed. Other scenes were also removed at the request of the DOD. In another original scene, Enders commits a war crime when he kills an injured Japanese soldier while he is attempting to surrender by burning him alive with a flamethrower. Morgan wrote another memo to Strub and another memo to Chang. The scene was cut.
The DOD also instructed that the film should downplay a critical aspect of the story—that Enders and Henderson were to kill the code talkers in the event they were likely to be captured. Officials at the Pentagon claimed that such an order had never been given in the true story of the World War II code talkers. A memo from Congress issued in 2000, however, stated explicitly that “this Code was so successful that some Code Talkers were guarded by fellow Marines whose role was to kill them in case of imminent capture.”4 “In the end,” writes Robb of the debate over the orders to kill the code talkers and the portrayal of this order in the film, “producers [of the film] who had originally brought the project to MGM, had to reluctantly agree to tone down that angle if they wanted to get the military’s assistance.”5
Windtalkers is only one of numerous major motion pictures altered to fit the narrative and preferences of the DOD. Indeed, officials within the Pentagon, the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA), and the National Security Agency (NSA) exert incredible influence over film production. In addition to successfully pushing to change scripts, scrub characters, and alter plot lines, the agencies are also successful at preventing films deemed “too critical” of the military and the U.S. government from being created in the first place. Analyzing thousands of documents received through the Freedom of Information Act, researchers Matthew Alford and Tom Secker found that the U.S. government has worked behind the scenes on more than eight hundred major motion pictures and over one thousand television titles.6
This dynamic between the DOD and film studios is undeniable propaganda. By exerting control over characters, plot, and production, government officials are able to frame messages related to activities involving the U.S. government in a positive light and are able to effectively censor would-be detractors. Film and television provide an effective means of transmitting the desired materials to the American public. So pervasive is the influence of the government in film that any discussion of propaganda in the United States, whether historical or contemporary, would be incomplete without an examination of the role of film and the industry that produces mass entertainment. Film is particularly interesting, as it has been used to garner support for particular conflicts and utilized as a means of cultivating militarism and a broader “American” identity. In this way, we observe many parallels between film and the propaganda utilized in promoting the Iraq War, as well as similarities between film and the more generalized propaganda discussed in earlier chapters in the context of professional sports and the TSA.
A BRIEF HISTORY OF U.S. PROPAGANDA IN FILM 1915–1989
The relationship between the DOD and Hollywood has a long history. Todd Breasseale, a retired army officer and liaison to Hollywood, discussed the long-standing relationship between the two groups, noting that “the Army’s been there since Hollywood was first built from the Los Angeles canyons and desert.”7
One of the earliest examples of the entanglement between Hollywood and the military dates back to before World War I and one of the country’s most controversial films ever produced—The Birth of a Nation (1915). Originally called The Clansmen after the Thomas Dixon Jr. book of the same title, the silent, three-hour epic follows the U.S. Civil War and the subsequent Reconstruction period. It portrays black men as sexually violent toward white women and the Ku Klux Klan (KKK) as a heroic fighting force. Directed by D. W. Griffith, a personal friend of President Woodrow Wilson, the film was only completed with assistance from army engineers and artillery from West Point.8
Though Birth of a Nation may have been the first film to receive assistance from the U.S. military, it would not be the last, nor would it be long before filmmakers sought assistance from the U.S. Armed Forces on a routine basis. In fact, by the time Griffith turned to the military again in 1924 for assistance with his film America, the relationship between the film industry and the military was well established. Secretary of War John Weeks approved Griffith’s request for the use of one thousand cavalrymen to recreate a battle scene from the American Revolutionary War.9
In 1927, former World War I fighter pilot William Wellman directed Paramount Production’s Wings. In making the film, Wellman utilized military facilities in Texas as well as “hundreds of Army pilots, troops, and technical advisors.”10 The film went on to win the first Academy Award for Best Picture and is remembered for its flying sequences.11
Assistance for films like America, Wings, and numerous others was made possible by President Wilson’s Executive Order 2594. Signed on April 13, 1917, the order established the Committee on Public Information (CPI) with the goal of shaping public opinion in support of the war. The committee’s activities influenced a wide range of American media, including film. From its inception until its repeal following the conclusion of World War I, the CPI reviewed thousands of films. William Bradley, head of the National Association of the Motion Picture Industry at the time, stated pointedly why the government sought to use film and the motion picture industry as a means of transmitting propaganda. “The motion picture,” he said, “can be the most wonderful system for spreading national propaganda at little or no cost.”12 And supply propaganda they did.
Discussing the role that Hollywood played in broadcasting the government’s message domestically and abroad, George Creel, head of the CPI, wrote in 1920 that “motion pictures played a great part . . . ranking as a major activity.”13 He went on to emphasize how film provided a means of coordinating disparate groups around the government’s central message—that American involvement in the war was desirable and good. “To millions unable to read,” Creel wrote, “to literate millions unreached by newspaper or magazine, to city audiences and village crowds, the screen carried the story of America, flashing the power of our army and navy, showing our natural resources, our industrial processes, our war spirit, and our national life.”14
Discussing the work of the committee, Creel made clear the relationship with film studios, noting that production companies were willing and eager to maintain their cozy relationship with government officials by making changes to their products.
The spirit of co-operation reduced the element of friction to a minimum. Oftentimes it was the case that a picture could be made helpful [from the perspective of the CPI] by a change in title or elimination of a scene, and in no instance did a producer fail to make the alterations suggested. . . . During its [the CPI’s] existence . . . more than eight thousand motion pictures were reviewed.15
A similar dynamic existed during World War II. In June of 1942, President Franklin D. Roosevelt signed Executive Order 9182 authorizing the creation of the Office of War Information (OWI).16 The OWI’s mission was to create—through a variety of media, including film—information programs surrounding the conflict. Like the CPI before it, the OWI sought to garner public support for the government’s wartime activities.
As part of its activities, the OWI formed the Bureau of Motion Pictures (BMP) to “coordinate the production of entertainment features with patriotic, morale-boosting themes and messages about the ‘American way of life,’ the nature of the enemy and the allies, civilian responsibility on the home front, and the fighting forces themselves.”17 OWI director Elmer Davis, a well-known journalist, discussed the important function of film and propaganda during the war and reaffirmed the points made by Creel some twenty years earlier. “The motion picture is the most powerful instrument of propaganda in the world, whether it tries to be or not. The easiest way to inject a propaganda idea into most people’s minds is to let it go through the medium of an entertainment picture when they do not realize that they are being propagandized.”18
From the outset, the OWI and the BMP sought to make films that would not only appeal to American and foreign audiences but also foster support for U.S. war efforts.19 War was by no means a new topic for cinema, but before the creation of the OWI and the BMP, the treatment of the subject looked radically different. In mid-1942, for example, Hollywood studios were either considering or producing 213 films that dealt with war in some capacity. Despite the focus on war, the OWI was displeased with how Hollywood portrayed war and America’s role in conflict. According to historians Clayton Koppes and Gregory Black, “disturbing to the OWI, Hollywood had simply grafted the war to conventional mystery and action plots or appropriated it [the war] as a backdrop for frothy musicals and flippant comedies. Interpretation of the war remained at a rudimentary level: the United States was fighting because it had been attacked, and it would win.”20 To remedy this perceived deficiency, the OWI created the “Government Information Manual for the Motion Picture Industry” (GIMMPI). The GIMMPI and the OWI exist, state the manual, “to assist the motion picture industry in its endeavor to inform the American people, via the screen, of the many problems attendant on the war program.”21
The GIMMPI is a remarkably clear example of the government’s commitment to the use of propaganda. Throughout the more than 150 pages, the OWI looked to use the film industry to disseminate purposely biased information to the American public to promote U.S. government political causes. By suggesting how various aspects of the war “might be dramatized,” the OWI sought to limit dissention and any questioning of U.S. wartime activities.22 The manual instructed filmmakers on how they ought to transmit and frame a number of issues related to the war, including the behavior of civilians (discussed in more detail below), with the explicit goals of cultivating fear of the enemy and coordinating citizens around government initiatives. Core propaganda techniques—appeals to authority, to patriotism, and to an “us versus them” mentality figure prominently throughout.
One particularly illustrative example of how the OWI sought to alter the messages received by the American public comes from a chapter in the GIMMPI related to the “home front,” or the civilian population as it pertains to the military and the war effort as a whole.23 The chapter discusses seven topics related to the home front that film producers should emphasize and provides guidance on how these topics should be portrayed. The manual states that films should push civilians to cooperate with civilian defense authorities, primarily by volunteering and obeying any orders coming from government. The chapter also encourages film studios to impress on the populace that they [the civilian population] are responsible for preventing inflation, though it doesn’t explain how this is the case. The manual makes clear that participating in government war programs is “American” and patriotic. “In war-time,” it reads, “every cent he [the civilian] spends on a luxury should have gone toward defense of his country. He must buy bonds. This is an investment in freedom—investment for his future security. He must pay his taxes promptly and cheerfully—pay in advance if he can afford it.”24
Continuing, the chapter advises the film industry to portray rationing as necessary and patriotic. The manual makes clear that questioning these programs or the nature of the threat from abroad is un-American and aligns the dissenter with the enemy.
Every individual must be made to see the immediacy of the danger to him. Thus, when he is asked to make sacrifices, to give up certain pleasures or comforts, he considers it in the light of necessary and vital contributions to victory rather than as irksome restrictions. . . . The grumbler, the hoarder, the law-evader is an unwitting enemy. . . . We expect [the men at the front] to risk their lives. For our part we can do no less than make the few sacrifices asked of us [by the government].25
The effort to delineate a clear “us versus them” is evident in the OWI’s instructions on how film studios should depict those seeking to evade the government’s strict controls on rationed goods. The policies of the U.S. government, according to the manual, are just and necessary. Individuals looking to receive more than their “fair share” of goods, or those turning to black markets for goods and services, are to be portrayed as enemies of the war effort and, therefore, enemies of America.
They [those attacking the United States from within] are the buyers and sellers of “The Black Market.” They are the bootleggers and purchasers of tires, gasoline, steel and irreplaceable critical materials, who evade the rationing laws and rules designed to assure the United States of sufficient military and industrial strength to win the battle for its existence and for the preservation of the rights of free men. . . . They must be shown! They must learn that they are enemies of their nation!26
There is nothing clever or smart or funny in getting around laws that were enacted to safeguard the country. . . . Our job—and particularly the job of motion pictures—is to shame the bootlegger and his customer out of existence. . . . The bootlegger and his customer must be shown as what they are—Axis friends and our enemies.27
The manual also encourages threat inflation by instructing film studios to portray the enemy as cunning and well equipped, both physically and mentally. The enemy is not to be portrayed as a bumbling caricature but instead as intelligent, worthy, and wholly threatening to the American way of life. Furthermore, the manual promotes the idea of ubiquitous domestic threats as well as the simple “us versus them” dichotomy to encourage film studios to assist in quashing any questioning or criticism of war-related policies.
But he [the enemy] is also in every town and every home in America, disguised as waste, inefficiency, disunity, insecurity, [and] ill-health, plotting to weaken the home front and thereby to weaken the production front and the fighting front—to decrease the total striking power of the nation.28
An unknown number of Axis agents are operating today in the United States, aided and abetted by Axis sympathizers and, worse yet, by loyal Americans who mistake rumor-mongering for honest criticism and thus give currency to Axis-inspired whispering campaigns.29
The manual also provides studios with the government-approved portrayals of waste and conservation efforts, manpower mobilization, Red Cross blood donation, black market operations, and nursing. The manual explicitly addresses how to portray the U.S. Armed Forces to children, stating that motion pictures “wield an incalculable influence on school-aged youngsters.”30 Ironically, the OWI’s instructions include a section on how to depict the dangers of propaganda, stating that the “enemy” looks to spread false information and rumors that would demoralize the American populace and disrupt American cohesion.31
Like its predecessor, the CPI, the OWI was disbanded in 1945 following the end of the war. This did not mean that the government would cease its work with the film industry, which continued during the Cold War. In 1949 the creation of the DOD came with the simultaneous formation of the Motion Picture Production Office (MPPO), headed by Donald Baruch. Baruch—who had produced four off-Broadway plays in the 1930s and completed stints at Hal Roach Studios, MGM, and Paramount—worked during the war as an officer in the Army/Air Force Office of Public Information.
According to military historian Lawrence Suid, “the office received the mandate to take over the cooperation process from the individual [military branches] and supervise the details of assistance, thereby regulating the armed forces’ zealous pursuit of film roles.”32 Suid goes on to note that “throughout the 1950s each [military branch] had virtually a blank check to provide assistance [to Hollywood studios]. . . . Filmmakers received as much help on any movie as a service’s public affairs office . . . decided served its best interest.”33 In discussing the role Baruch played in the film industry over the next four decades, the National Archives state that “Baruch reviewed movie and television scripts to make recommendations on whether or not the DoD should agree to cooperate with proposed [projects] that sought military assistance for their production.”34
The purpose of the relationship was clear from the DOD’s perspective. Projects receiving support from the DOD were to portray the agency and those involved with it in a positive light. Negative portrayals would not be supported. DOD Instruction 5410.15, dated November 3, 1966, outlines six principles “governing assistance to non-government audiovisual media.”35 The first is particularly relevant and demonstrates how officials sought to use popular cinema as a means to convey positive messages about U.S. government activities. It states the project will “benefit the DOD or otherwise be in the national interest,” be based on “authenticity of the portrayal of military operations, historical incidents, persons or places depicting the true nature of military life,” and be in “compliance with accepted standards of dignity and propriety in the industry.”36
Under Baruch’s leadership, the entanglements between the DOD and major Hollywood studios remained strong. Hundreds of films, from 20,000 Leagues under the Sea (1954) to Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade (1989) utilized the MPPO in order to obtain assistance for their projects. In exchange for the DOD’s personnel and material, members of the film industry relinquished autonomy over their projects, making changes at the behest of Baruch and his office. Suid’s analysis indicates that from the time Baruch assumed his position in 1949 until his retirement in 1989, the DOD sponsored dozens of films, including thirteen features by Columbia Pictures, seven MGM productions, eleven films by Paramount, fifteen by Twentieth Century Fox, fifteen by Universal Studios, and sixteen by Warner Brothers. Of the films sponsored, the army participated in the production of fifty-two films, and the Navy provided support for thirty-six. The Marines cooperated on twenty-seven projects, and the Air Force was involved with twenty.37
Most of these films received what Suid refers to as “complete cooperation,” meaning the films were able to use military personnel, equipment, locations, and technical advice. Another nine received “limited cooperation,” with access to locales, some personnel, and technical advice. Two films received “courtesy cooperation” and received technical advice or combat footage. Of the films Suid examined from this period, request for military involvement was denied in twenty-four cases and was not requested in twenty-five.38 Unsurprisingly, many of the films that received cooperation related directly to contemporary U.S. foreign policy, namely the Korean War, the Vietnam War, and the Cold War more broadly.
What is equally interesting, however, are those films addressing these conflicts that did not receive DOD support despite requests for assistance. Films like Apocalypse Now, The Bedford Incident, Blue Thunder, Coming Home, The Deer Hunter, Fail Safe, Go Tell the Spartans, Platoon, Rolling Thunder, Seven Days in May, WarGames, and War Hunt were all denied DOD support. Although these films addressed the same issues as those that received cooperation, they differ in that each is either critical of the aforementioned U.S. policies, shows the DOD or military personnel in an unflattering light, or otherwise portrays conflict in ways unpleasing to the DOD.
One of the films that attained major critical and financial success, Platoon, was denied any and all support from the DOD. The film’s director, Oliver Stone, followed a script he wrote in 1975 based on his combat experiences in Vietnam. A confidential memo from the army’s public affairs staff dated June 28, 1984, reads, “We have reviewed the script . . . the Army cannot support it as written. . . . The script presents an unfair and inaccurate view of the Army. There are numerous problem areas in the script. They include: the murder and rape of innocent Vietnamese villagers by U.S. soldiers, the coldblooded murder of one U.S. soldier by another, rampant drug abuse, the stereotyping of black soldiers and the portrayal of the majority of soldiers as illiterate delinquents.”39
Despite claims by the DOD that such actions were unfair or inaccurate, such atrocities absolutely occurred. In March 1968, for example, Army soldiers brutally murdered civilians, including men, women, and children, in the Vietnamese village of My Lai. Some of the women and girls were raped before their executions. Afterward, the soldiers burned the village, destroyed food stores and livestock, and tainted the water supply.40 Drug use among servicemen was a major problem during the Vietnam War. In fact, in 1971 the DOD reported that 51 percent of the armed forces had smoked marijuana. Some 31 percent has used drugs like LSD, mescaline, or hallucinogenic mushrooms. Another 28 percent had used drugs like cocaine and heroin.41 With respect to literacy, in 1966 secretary of defense Robert McNamara announced a plan for the military to recruit men who had been rejected for service based on their Armed Forces Qualification Test (AFQT) and to enlist some one hundred thousand low-literacy recruits per year. These men would come to be known as “McNamara’s Moron Corps.”42
Issues of racism and discrimination were very much relevant in the lives of black soldiers in Vietnam. Reflecting on watching films on Vietnam, Wallace Terry, the Vietnam correspondent for Time magazine between 1967 and 1969, said, “I find it amusing to see a Vietnam movie and the white guys are popping their fingers to black music. That just didn’t happen. This is revisionism.”43
The silver screen was not the only entertainment genre to seek the assistance of Baruch and the MPPO. Numerous television shows submitted proposals, scripts, and other materials to the office and made changes in order to obtain the DOD’s assistance. To give but one example, Warner Brothers contacted Baruch in 1977 for assistance on the production of “Trouble in Paradise” for the Wonder Woman Series. Responding to the request from the studio, Baruch outlined the specific changes he required before assistance would be granted. In the letter, dated July 26, Baruch outlined four script changes.
No objections are interposed to Navy assisting by making available the bridge of a destroyer for filming sequences provided the following script changes are accomplished:
1. Page 2—delete the jokes during the transmission between aircraft and show facility, i.e., “Tell Sparks I said to stop drinking on the job. Unless I happen to be there.”
2. Page 3—delete reference to that was just a cover. Also delete reference to neutron, suggest “nuclear” instead.
3. Page 4—delete or rewrite exchange with Southern, Diana, and Atkinson to drop references to neutron bomb and its awesomeness but necessary to maintain our country’s defense.
4. Page 60—delete “neutron” in Atkinson’s speech.44
The letter concludes with a note at the bottom, “Advised, by phone, Richard Vane, location manager, Warner Bros.; he saw no problem and would get changes made [to the script].”45
Other examples abound. In addition to assisting with entertainment for adult audiences, the DOD also influenced a variety of children’s programs including American classics like Lassie (1954–1973, also known as Jeff’s Collie and Timmy and Lassie). Seeking assistance, producers of the show wrote the DOD in 1961. In the proposed episode, Lassie, the canine heroine, saves the day by uncovering the mystery of a crashed military aircraft. In the original version of the script, an army L-19 reconnaissance aircraft crashed as the result of a correctable design flaw. “We suggest the L-19 be depicted as having encountered unpredictable icing conditions which weighted the wings,” Major William Ellington of the Pentagon Film Office wrote to producers. “The latter condition [as opposed to a design flaw] could be interpreted as causing the mysterious sound oscillations which could only be heard by Lassie.” He continued, “If you find that you are able to make the suggested changes, we feel that we will be able to offer you full [DOD] cooperation.”46 According to Robb, “the producers [of Lassie] not only made the changes, but they adopted Major Ellington’s proposed dialogue, virtually word for word.”47
In his analysis of the DOD’s involvement with Hollywood, Robb highlights how the entanglements between the DOD and major producers of film and television projects resulted in fundamental changes to the entertainment products consumed by the American public. Writing on the aforementioned episode of Lassie, for example, Robb notes that the objections of the military—and the desire for military cooperation—all but completely sterilized the critical message of the show.
The new dialogue written by the military did two things. It not only provided a new explanation for the crash—unpredictable icing (no one to blame), but it also changed the whole point of the original story, which was not that Lassie solved a mystery, but rather, that in solving the mystery, she had saved lives—her whole reason for being.
The last line in the synopsis for the original script says that “Lassie solves the mystery and no lives will be endangered because of it.” But that last part was taken out by the military. In the script approved by the army, Lassie is still a good detective, but she is no longer a hero because no lives have been saved by her actions.
Is this a proper role for the military—to make Lassie look less heroic so that the military will look better instead? Don’t they have anything better to do with taxpayers’ money?48
The relationship between the military and Hollywood would continue throughout the Cold War. Baruch retired in 1989, and Phil Strub assumed his role. Based on the films studied by Suid—from 1990 to 2001—the DOD continued to provide support for a number of studios including Disney, DreamWorks, HBO, MGM, Paramount, Showtime, Sony, Touchstone Pictures, Twentieth Century Fox, Universal Studios, and Warner Brothers. The Army would provide support to most films, followed by the Navy, Marines, and the Air Force. Of the films reviewed, seventeen received “full cooperation,” one “limited cooperation,” and five “courtesy cooperation.” DOD assistance was not requested or required for twelve films, and support was denied for eight projects.49 With the long history of entanglements between the U.S. military and the entertainment industry, the stage was set for Hollywood to play a central role in propaganda dissemination following the 9/11 attacks.
HOLLYWOOD AND THE PENTAGON POST-9/11
The War in Iraq and the War on Terror
As history indicates, Hollywood and government officials—particularly within the DOD—have mutually benefitted from collaboration. Given the long history of their relationship, it makes sense that this would continue following the 9/11 attacks.50 Just as the DOD sought to use their influence to frame the portrayal of conflicts like World War II, Vietnam, and the Cold War, so, too, have officials looked to influence studios to offer a favorable portrayal of the Iraq War and the war on terror. Just as the DOD looked to cultivate “American” ideals and the notion of American exceptionalism before 9/11, such tactics continued to be employed after the attacks.
The DOD saw Hollywood as a means to spread the messages of just and righteous war while reinforcing the necessity of a range of government activities, both domestically and abroad. After the attacks, officials quickly connected with major Hollywood players in an effort to disseminate such ideas to the broader public. In November 2001, for example, President Bush’s senior advisor and deputy chief of staff Karl Rove met with the chairman of the Motion Picture Association of America (MPAA) Jack Valenti and other industry insiders, including the chair of Paramount Pictures’s film division, in Beverly Hills, California.51 Then White House spokesman Ari Fleischer said that a number of major television and film studios were expected to attend, including CBS television, Viacom, Showtime, DreamWorks, HBO, and MGM. Speaking of the meeting, Fleischer stated, “across America every community is looking to pitch in [after the attacks], Hollywood included, and this White House is pleased.”52 Karl Rove echoed these sentiments, saying that “these people [in Hollywood production studios], like every other American, feel strongly about the events of 11 September and the need to see this war through to its victorious conclusion.”53
Though officials were careful to state that they were not interested in dictating content, Rove offered the executives and industry representatives in attendance a seven-point message from the White House. While the specifics differed from what the BMP offered to film studios during World War II, there were certainly parallels. Film studios should portray events surrounding current policy in particular ways to the American public and foreign audiences. The position of the U.S. government is good, noble, and serves the broader public interest, and supporting these ends requires supporting the government’s policies.
Rove presented seven points to industry representatives: (1) the war is against terrorism, not Islam, (2) Americans must be called to national service, (3) Americans should support the troops, (4) the war on terror is global and, as such, requires a global response, (5) the war on terror is a war against evil, (6) American children must be reassured, and (7) the narrative behind the war effort should be accurate and honest.54 It is clear from statements of industry leaders who participated in the meeting that major producers of film and television were not just willing to assist officials with their message—they would also be very careful to adopt their proposed guidelines for framing content (and later their edits).
From the outset, film studios worked closely with officials to transmit and frame the messages in major entertainment to align with the goals of the Bush administration. Screenwriter, director, and producer Bryce Zabel stated this idea clearly, noting how support for the war on terror became synonymous with being “American.” “What we are excited about is neither propaganda nor censorship,” he said. “The word I like is advocacy. We are willing to volunteer to become advocates for the American message.”55 This “volunteerism” and “advocacy,” however, came at the price of relinquishing autonomy in the creation of film and television projects to become an informal propaganda arm of the U.S. government.
The studios would offer control and editorial power to primarily one individual—Phil Strub. As noted above, Strub assumed the role of director of entertainment media for the DOD after Baruch’s retirement in 1989. Strub’s involvement with film studios from the late 1980s to at least the late 2010s is critical for understanding the scale and scope of the interactions between film studios and the DOD in the post-9/11 period.
The film Windtalkers, discussed at the beginning of this chapter, is but one of many films made possible through cooperation with (and capitulation to the demands of) the DOD. In fact, Strub and his team would have a hand in more than 130 films between 2001 and 2017 alone. (A list of these films is included in the appendix.)56 In addition to these films, Strub’s office also had a hand in nearly one thousand television programs between 2004 and 2011, including shows like The 700 Club, American Chopper, America’s Next Top Model, the Country Music Awards, Ellen, Extreme Makeover: Weight Loss Edition, Grey’s Anatomy, Ice Road Truckers, Iron Chef, Man vs. Food, the Miss America Pageant, MTV’s True Life, Myth Busters, NCIS, Say Yes to the Dress, Snoop Dogg’s Father Hood, The Price Is Right, and Wheel of Fortune, among others.57
The dynamics at play during the post-9/11 period represent a continuation of the historical entanglement of Hollywood and the DOD. Just as earlier films were altered at the behest of the DOD to fit their desired narrative, films in the post-9/11 period were no different. Officials have been quick to push back against the idea that they unduly influence Hollywood. The suggestions of the DOD, they argue, are merely that—suggestions. If a studio doesn’t want to make the suggested change, they can simply part ways with the DOD. This is captured clearly in a statement from Phil Strub, “There is no way we are going to go in and to steamroll anyone’s vision [for a project]. They will just tell us to drop dead and go away.”58
The reality is often much different than this statement suggests. In fact. many studios have come to rely on DOD support in order to successfully complete film projects. Without the DOD’s blessing (and offer of equipment and personnel), some projects become financially untenable such that studios decide to alter the underlying messages of their work. The result is that films, which may have once had a critical or thoughtful message related to U.S. foreign policy, instead promote an uncritical or wholly positive view of the activities of the U.S. government. This may be clearly observed in examining films related to the war in Iraq. As discussed (see chaps. 3 and 4), the Bush administration went to great lengths to garner support for the war both before the invasion and afterward. It should come as no surprise, then, that Strub and other officials were keen to offer assistance to films that portrayed the war and occupation positively while rebuffing those projects that failed to show the war as necessary and noble.
Writing on the contemporary relationship between Hollywood and the Pentagon, journalist Julian Barnes noted that “Army officials are eager to work with filmmakers making serious movies about Iraq—the kind of pictures that have the power to shape the public’s view of the war and its warriors.”59 In the same article, Barnes quotes Paul Haggis, the writer and director of the Iraq War film In the Valley of Elah. The film, starring Charlize Theron and Tommy Lee Jones, follows a retired army sergeant (Jones) searching for his son after his return from Iraq. After submitting the script for the film to the DOD, producers received twenty-one pages of objections to the film. Haggis stated that producers told him the protestations of the DOD meant they wouldn’t support the project. In a clear illustration of the influence that the DOD attempts to exert over the film industry, Haggis said, “If they [the DOD] had reasonable input I would have taken it. But I am not there to do publicity for the Army. I am there to do a movie as I see true.”60 He said of the DOD’s involvement with In the Valley of Elah, “They [the DOD] are trying to put the best spin on what they are doing. Of course, they want to publicize what is good. But it doesn’t mean it’s true.”61
Throughout the war on terror, particularly with respect to the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan, the DOD sought to influence Hollywood in a deliberate effort to frame and transmit messages to the public with the goal of influencing public attitudes regarding US government policies. Speaking in an interview on National Public Radio in 2008, Julian Barnes discussed the importance of pro-American war films for the U.S. government.
The Iraq war movies are very important to the military. They don’t like how the war is being portrayed, particularly how the soldiers are being portrayed. And many people, not everyone, but many people within the military think that if they can persuade Hollywood to present a more nuanced picture of a soldier who served in Iraq, that it will affect public attitudes toward soldiers.62
The host of the program then asked Barnes about the number of films the DOD was involved in related to Iraq and Afghanistan at that time, pointing to how the Pentagon worked to “control the message about the war in Iraq” using some of the propaganda tactics discussed in earlier chapters. Barnes responded,
Well, the military would say no. I mean, they would say, look, we’re just trying to get a more multidimensional picture out there, that we’re just striving for accuracy. We’re not trying to censure anyone. We’re not trying to spin anyone. Hollywood directors, though, some of them have a different view. They think that the military is trying to push a positive view of the Iraq war, or a positive view of how they’re treating soldiers.63
It’s reasonable to think officials in the DOD would be hesitant to offer assistance to film studios producing entertainment that reflects badly on the military or the U.S. government’s foreign policy. This means that even if they aren’t explicitly intending to produce propaganda, the government’s involvement in the entertainment industry will naturally lead to a pro-military and pro-U.S. foreign policy bias.
Transformers: More Than Meets the Eye
Beyond specific conflicts, the DOD also utilizes its relationship with Hollywood to advance a positive general portrayal of the military to both Americans and foreigners. This is perhaps best illustrated by an unlikely set of films—Transformers (2007) and Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen (2009). These films don’t portray any real-world conflict but are instead based on the Hasbro children’s toys from the 1980s. The films, products of collaboration between Paramount, di Bonaventura, and DreamWorks, tell the simple story of an American teenager Sam Witwicky (Shia LeBeouf).
Threatened by evil alien robots—the Decepticons—Sam, his love interest Mikaela Banes (Megan Fox), and a group of good alien robots—the Autobots—join forces with the U.S. military in a battle between good and evil. Together, Sam, Mikaela, the Autobots, and the DOD defeat the Decepticons, saving America and the world—all while showcasing a cornucopia of military hardware and nearly every branch of the U.S. Armed Forces.
Production on the two films was only possible as the result of intensive support from the DOD. Ian Bryce, one of the producers of Transformers, concisely captures the nature of the relationship between the DOD and film studios. “Without the superb military support we’ve gotten on this film, it would be an entirely different looking film. We want to cooperate with the Pentagon to show them off in the most positive light, and the Pentagon likewise wants to give us the resources to be able to do just that.”64
The films’ director, Michael Bay, expressed similar sentiments. “I was dead set on getting military cooperation,” he said. “I’ve worked with the Department of Defense on several projects . . . so I already knew many of their ground rules.” The statements by Bryce and Bay make clear what is known throughout Hollywood—Pentagon cooperation requires an unquestioningly positive portrayal of the U.S. military.
Transformers and Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen are particularly germane examples of the DOD-Hollywood relationship in that these films represent the largest collaboration between the two groups in history. The films received assistance from four of the five branches of the military (only the Coast Guard was absent from the films). Tanner Mirrlees, a communications and digital media studies scholar, discusses the films within the broader context of “militainment”—military advertisement packaged as benign entertainment. He notes that both films offer “special thanks” in their credits to a cadre of individuals within the Pentagon hierarchy and the film liaison offices as well as the “men and women of the U.S. Armed Forces.”65 He further highlights how nearly every military role—including those of extras—was played by military personnel—with the idea of turning “real heroes” returning from combat in Iraq into “reel heroes.”
Those DOD members not on screen worked as active crewmembers, coordinating action shots and training cast and crew.66 The films utilize and show off a variety of high-priced military hardware including the A-10 Thunderbolt II, AC-130 Gunship, Boeing VC-25, C-17 Globemaster III, CV-22 Osprey, C-130 Hercules, F-117 Nighthawk, F-22 Raptor, and the MQ-1 Predator—the unmanned aerial vehicle (UAV or “drone”) utilized most extensively in the war on terror. Revenge of the Fallen also included the use of six F-16s, two Bradley tanks, 10 armored Humvees, two M-1 Abrams tanks, an M-270 Multiple Launch Rocket System, and a Sikorsky UH-60 Black Hawk helicopter.67
Mirrlees highlights precisely how these films benefit both the DOD and Hollywood producers, noting how the films paint a positively glowing picture of the U.S. Armed Forces and highlight contemporary military tactics as the pinnacle of military prowess.
These films make the DoD’s personnel—from the top to the bottom of its hierarchy—look great and convey a “support the brass” and the “support the troops” message. The Secretary of Defense Keller (played by . . . Jon Voight) is smart, decisive, capable, and willing to adapt to new threats and battle circumstances easily. Upon learning that the threat to the world is not a traditional territorial state actor like Russia, China, or North Korea, but extraterrestrial robots, Keller responds calmly and reasonably, following procedures and sometimes adapting them as needed. The “boots on the ground” force is a multicultural team of special operations soldiers led by William Lennox (Josh Duhamel) and Robert Epps (Tyrese Gibson). Throughout [the films], these soldiers are depicted as smart, heroic, and committed to DoD to the extreme; they fight a technologically superior alien enemy flexibly, bravely, selflessly, and sacrifice themselves for the security of America and the human race. . . . These soldiers are victorious. . . . These films also depict DoD’s doctrine of Network Centric Warfare (NCW).68
In addition, the themes of unity, obedience, and American exceptionalism are prominent throughout both films. Mirrlees, quoting Phil Strub, notes that, “Strub decries ‘the enduring stereotype of the loner hero [soldier] who must succeed by disobeying orders, going outside the rules by being stupid,’ so he was likely pleased with [the films’] depiction of soldiers working as a networked team to achieve victory.”69 Mirrlees continues, “Both [films] communicate American exceptionalism—the idea that the United States has a unique role to play in the world, to lead and shape it, to protect the world from threats to it. . . . [The films] portray . . . real countries like China and Russia . . . and then . . . fictional robot aliens . . . as the basis for legitimization of American military power and operations. . . . These films depict the United States as an exceptional military power, but one that is needed, a force for global good.”70
Military cooperation on the Transformers franchise meant for the studios exactly what it meant for D. W. Griffith in the early 1900s—huge cost savings and access to equipment and personnel that would otherwise mean a less impressive (and probably less profitable) film. In return for positive portrayal of the military, filmmakers receive access to military hardware, personnel, and advice at little to no cost. Discussing the involvement of the Armed Forces in the Transformers franchise, journalist Peter Debruge noted that the production companies (with respect to Transformers and other films) don’t “pay location fees or military personnel salaries though servicemen can take time off to serve as extras. . . . With a bit of creativity from the commanders involved, some maneuvers have actually been designated as training exercises and offered at no cost to filmmakers.”71 Captain Bryon McGarry, deputy director of the air force public affairs office, recalled one such exercise of F-16s simulating a low-level attack. “The flyover was very much the type of training the Air National Guard out of Kirkland AFB [Air Force Base] does every day. Only that day, Michael Bay and his cameras had a front row seat to the air power show.”72
In his concluding remarks on the Transformers films as a form of militainment, Mirrlees identifies the films as works of propaganda. “The DoD uses public monies to create its own media and entertainment products that put it in a positive light and encourages private media to do the same. . . . DoD’s assistance to T [Transformers] and TRF [Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen] are examples of federally funded propaganda.”73 Though the military vehemently denies that its involvement with film projects involves propaganda, it is difficult to take these claims seriously given the historical relationship between the military and Hollywood and the fact that the DOD’s involvement is predicated on presenting preapproved information in a manner intended to advance the interests of the American government and military.
CONCLUSION
The Pentagon’s involvement in the film industry is little more than propaganda packaged as mass entertainment. The DOD unapologetically favors and provides special treatment and assistance to those films that portray the U.S. military and its activities in a positive light while shunning those who do not. Phil Strub has been remarkably candid in his bias with respect to deciding which films will be offered support and which will not. “I will plead guilty to bias in favor of the military. I wouldn’t be able to look myself in the mirror and go to work every day if I didn’t believe the military is a force for good. If a script comes to us portraying the military as a malign force, we won’t provide support.”74
The DOD’s influence in film and television is particularly troubling from the perspective of checks and balances on government behavior and power. Media, in its various forms, has the capacity to play a critical role in mitigating propaganda by providing information and offering alternative perspectives to correct for information asymmetries between citizens and the government. Furthermore, genres like film and television provide an avenue through which new ideas reach the citizenry. The entanglements between the DOD and the entertainment industry undermine these functions of film and television by making Hollywood an informal public relations arm of the U.S. military. More troubling is that the role of government in shaping and influencing the information and messaging presented to the public is largely covert except for a brief mention in television and film credits.
Based on their long historical relationship, there is little doubt that the DOD will continue to provide assistance to film and television in exchange for influence over content.75 The importance of these continued interactions cannot be understated. As highlighted by international relations scholar Mark Lacy,
the cinema becomes a space where “common sense” ideas about global politics and history are (re)produced and stories about what is acceptable behavior from states and individuals are naturalised and legitimated. It is a space where myths about history and the origins of the state are told to a populist audience. One can think of contemporary war films . . . that rewrite history into one where historical and moral ambiguity are replaced with certainty.”76
In the American context, such revisions to both historical and current events will continue to occur at the behest of film liaison offices inside the DOD.