On June 21, 1940, Hitler accepted the surrender of the French government at a ceremony in Compiegne, France. He melodramatically insisted on receiving France's surrender in the same railroad car in which Germany had signed the 1918 armistice that had ended World War One.

After Hitler accepted France's surrender, he stepped backwards slightly, as if in shock. But this isn't what audiences in the Allied countries saw who watched the movie-reel of the ceremony. Instead they saw Hitler dance a bizarre little jig after signing the documents, as if he were childishly celebrating his victory by jumping up and down. The scene was played over and over in movie theaters.


Following the war, it was revealed that John Grierson, director of the Canadian information and propaganda departments, had manufactured the clip after noticing that Hitler raised his leg rather high up while stepping backwards. He realized that this moment could be looped repeatedly to create the appearance that Hitler was jumping with joy.

The film clip served the purpose of provoking popular outrage against Hitler.

Tanis Chandler was a 20-year-old woman working as a teletypist in a Hollywood brokerage office, but dreaming of becoming a movie star. However, she was having trouble getting any roles, so she decided to try another strategy. There was a shortage of male actors in 1943 because of the war, so Tanis figured she might have better luck if she were a man. She put on a pair of pants and presented herself at a casting office as "Robert Archer." The casting office, believing she was a man, gave her a part as a sheik in a Warner Brothers movie, The Desert Song. Luckily for her, the part required her to wear long flowing robes that covered her curves. More→

Too much dialogue, not enough exposition, weak story line Casablanca is arguably the most famous movie in the history of film. It won the Academy Award for Best Picture in 1943, and was voted as one of the top three American films ever made by the American Film Institute. It's a movie that everyone in the film industry should instantly be able to recognize. But in 1982 freelance writer Chuck Ross asked himself this question: Would contemporary Hollywood movie agents actually be able to recognize Casablanca if it was submitted to them as a script? Or failing that, would they at least be able to recognize it as great writing?

To find out, Ross devised an experiment. He retyped the script of Casablanca, changed its title to "Everybody Comes to Rick's" (the title of the original play by Murray Burnett and Joan Alison), changed the name of Rick's sidekick from Sam to Dooley (after Dooley Wilson, the actor who played that character), and submitted it to 217 agencies as a script supposedly by an unknown writer, "Erik Demos." More→

Ever since the rumored crash of a flying saucer near Roswell, New Mexico in the summer of 1947, UFO theorists had speculated that the body of an extraterrestrial had been collected from the wreckage and autopsied. In May 1995, British music and video producer Ray Santilli announced he had acquired footage of such an autopsy. A broad coalition of expert ridiculed the footage as an obvious hoax. Physicians pointed out that the surgeons shown in the film were holding their instruments incorrectly, indicating they were not real surgeons. Special-effects artists noted that the body being dissected appeared to be made of rubber. In 2006 Santilli confessed that the footage was indeed a hoax. He had filmed the footage inside a London apartment. The body of the alien had been created by sculptor John Humphreys. More→

In 1999 The Blair Witch Project became a multimillion-dollar box-office sensation. Much of this success owed to a clever marketing scheme centering around a website, blairwitch.com.

The premise of the site (and the movie) was that in 1994 three student filmmakers had disappeared in the woods near Burkitsville, Maryland while shooting a documentary about the local legend of the Blair Witch. Supposedly the Blair Witch was Elly Kedward, a woman who had been accused of witchcraft and child murder back in 1785 and had been banished from the town, left to die of cold in the woods. Her spirit was said to still haunt the area.

Visitors to blairwitch.com could view detailed historical information about the legend of the Blair Witch, including old photographs, police reports, letters, and interviews with officials. It was all so convincing that many people were fooled into believing that Elly Kedward was a real historical figure, and that there really was a legend of a Blair Witch. There wasn't. The entire tale was fictitious.

The site revolutionized internet marketing. Movie studios started churning out hoax websites to accompany their movies, in the hope of generating the same kind of buzz that the Blair Witch Project enjoyed. But none of these efforts has yet matched the success of BlairWitch.com.

No matter how bad the movies of Columbia Pictures were, there was always one reviewer sure to heap praise on them — David Manning of the Ridgefield Press. For instance, while other reviewers skewered Hollow Man, Manning declared it, "One helluva scary ride! The summer's best special effects." The sophomoric comedy The Animal impressed him as "another winner," and he singled out Heath Ledger of A Knight's Tale as "this year's hottest new star." These comments all appeared prominently in print ads for these films.

David Manning's rave reviews might have gone forever unnoticed. After all, few people pay much attention to the hyperbolic comments that grace most movie ads. However, during the course of investigating the journalistic subworld of movie junkets, Newsweek Reporter John Horn uncovered the curious truth behind David Manning. The Ridgefield Press, a small weekly newspaper based in Connecticut, had never heard of the man. Nor was Manning known by any of the other reporters who frequented the junket circuit. In fact, Manning didn't exist at all. He was, Horn discovered, the fictional creation of a young marketing executive at Sony, the parent company of Columbia Pictures. More→