The Canadian Caper: The Best Movie Never Made (Part Two)

Previously on “The Canadian Caper: The Best Movie Never Made”:

6 Americans were hidden by the Canadian ambassador in Tehran during the 1980 hostage crisis. The CIA learned about this and decided to “go Hollywood.” Back to where we left off…

Before long, Tony Mendez of the CIA went to Los Angeles, met with his old friend John Chambers (makeup artist of “Planet of the Apes”) and they created a production company—a feat mimicked by every film student ever—called Studio Six Productions. They then dug up a script called “Lord of Light”--a sci-fi film requiring rugged landscapes and bazaars. Despite (or because?) having no real experience in film making, Mendez knew that the title sucked and so renamed it “Argo” before moving onto the actual rescue plan. To boost their credentials, they took out ads in “Variety,” lifted Hollywood matchbooks and threw a pre-production party. Given another couple weeks they probably would have created an IMDB page and edited a teaser using stock footage.

In late January of 1980, Mendez flew to Tehran after meeting with Iranian officials in Germany. He had health cards (remember, this is Canadian healthcare), driver's licenses, maple leaf pins, receipts from restaurants in Toronto and Montreal, the Studio Six business cards, a lens for the cinematographer and other documents for the “Canadians,” and Canadians, he was meeting up with in Iran. Amazingly, to keep from breaking international laws, the CIA did not create the Canadian passports but rather the Canadian parliament held a secret emergency session and voted to grant the six Americans “real fake” Canadian passports.

When Mendez arrived in Tehran, the Americans were dining with ambassadors from Denmark and New Zealand—essentially the only two European countries we can trust anymore. Just kidding, NZ. Anyhow, the six escapees were given their new, “pre-production,” personas as the writer, the transportation coordinator, the set designer, an associate producer, the director and the cameraman. Mendez was the Irish film producer (but really, he just wanted to use the accent). For two days, the seven of them worked on creating their characters and costumes. An Iranian staffer mock interrogated them. They wrote notes about the script. Discussed concept art and took pictures. The “director” made a silver medallion, displayed flamboyantly with his borrowed low-button shirt.

Around this time, back in Hollywood, the CIA agents operating the Studio Six offices anxiously waited to hear from headquarters while being bombarded with scripts, head shots and pitches from Hollywood insiders. Writers from “Variety” and “The Hollywood Reporter” published stories about the studio start up and its brave little endeavor (filming a feature in Iran, that is). CIA agents, knowing their company would disappear any day, were even taking meetings with writers and producers just to remain credible.

"Could you write a movie about how to kill Fidel Castro?"

Early one morning, the Americans in Iran made their way to the airport after nearly 80 days in confinement. It was important to leave early in the day because by mid-day, the airport would become chaotic and the Revolutionary Guard would just take over--kind of like the TSA with sub-machine guns. While waiting in the airport, the “associate producer” tried to look calm by reading the Iranian newspaper before being reminded that he was giving Hollywood producers too much credit. After hours likely more agonizing than the normal hours spent in an airport, the "Canadian film crew” boarded their plane and it took off.

After clearing Iranian airspace, the airplane’s bar was opened and everybody got Bloody Mary’s.

And that's how you (don't) make a movie.