Warner was an unlikely, and rather unlikable, hero. A dour and moralistic man, he hated American labor unions (and his raffish brother, Jack, who headed production at the studio) almost as much as he loathed Nazism.
Still, his studio began to attack dictatorship in all sorts of movies -- Napoleon III stood in for Hitler in "Juarez," as did the usurper Prince John in "Robin Hood" (even if Claude Rains slyly said he based his characterization on Bette Davis).
In the later prewar years, the studio also did a lot of preparedness movies ("The Fighting 69th," "Sergeant York"), which devoted themselves to reluctant warriors becom- ing enthusiasts for freedom's cause.
The studio probably reached the height of its courage with "Confessions of a Nazi Spy" in 1939. Based on the true story of a group arrested and prosecuted in New York, it showed not just espionage agents in action, but German American sympathizers in full regalia, stirring hatred (although, as usual, it stopped short of full-scale anti-Semitism).
This sent Breen into a tizzy. He administered, with extraordinary prissiness, a code that contained a clause prohibiting criticism of foreign nations. You must show all the good Hitler has done for Germany -- autobahns and Volkswagens -- he argued.
To their infinite credit, the Warners told him to stuff it, and off their preachy film went to market, and unprofitability.
Warner Bros.' actions may seem little enough to modern eyes. But it was considerably more than their competitors did. All of this is mentioned in Welky's droning pages.
"The Moguls and the Dictators," however, does not sufficiently emphasize the elephant in the room -- the industry's fear of the anti-Semitism that was close to endemic in Washington and everywhere else in the U.S.
Even after the United States entered the war, Office of War Information polling showed that at least 40% of Americans were openly anti-Semitic and judged that the rescue of European Jewry was not a war aim to be mentioned in the popular culture.
I can, in fact, think of only three wartime films that openly alluded to the topic: "None Shall Escape," "Address Unknown" and "Mr. Skeffing- ton."
Still, a lot of people knew what was going on. Ben Hecht mounted a pageant called "They Will Never Die" -- featuring famous movie stars playing venues such as the Hollywood Bowl -- which gave an accurate (for its moment) count of the Nazi death camp toll, then 2 1/2 million. Many prominent Jews urged both Hecht and Hollywood to keep silent.
