BOMBERS B-52 (1957)

This CinemaScope production is Warner Bros.' answer to the more successful 1955 release, Strategic Air Command, filmed in Paramount’s VistaVision format. It was superior in cinematography and script authenticity by Bernie Lay, an airman himself, who came to the table with firsthand details. Victor Young's opening male ensemble song and dynamic flying score from that film better captured the grandeur of this period. But I digress. Renowned composer Leonard Rosenman, on the other hand, wrote a soap opera opening theme that goes against the bold, three-dimensional title graphically spelled out on the screen. He did write a dynamic B-52 motif, which I address below. Some big bucks were spent here, and it shows. The film gets high points for location filming on an active SAC base, and the camera crew's work on the ground is applauded. This helps distance itself a bit beyond the B-movie category, along with the draw of Natalie Wood, Karl Malden, and Efrem Zimbalist, Jr., all on career upswings.

The film gets low points for a Sam Rolfe story adapted for the screen by Irving Wallace. His soap opera screenplay, which I already warned you about, had an alternate title. Dell's movie promo publication (below) suggests the airmen's sleep-deprived twenty-four-hour missions and perhaps Malden's multi-hour angst over his daughter's late-night dating behavior. Contrasted with this is Wallace's infamous double-entendre about sleepless nights suggested by the poster.

Another low point is an over-the-top performance (once again) by Malden. He can be hard to stomach in this bull-headed, self-centered character. His role as the over-protective father and career airman dominates the movie, despite this being a Wood film. His guest shot on a popular quiz show has all the nervousness of a father awaiting the birth of a newborn. The sequence is a bit embarrassing. Comedy was never his strong suit, as he appeared upset even while delivering humorous quips. The scenes where he paces the floor, blowing off steam to his wife, Marsha Hunt, while downing eight cans of beer, between trips to the bathroom, are humorless. 

If you are an aviation enthusiast of this era, the B-52, as was the B-36 in the “SAC” film, will be your highlight and the main reason for remembering the movie. It is a visual aviation history lesson of the USAF's formative years, including Boeing's B-47 in background shots. The takeoffs and flybys are exciting, if not spectacular. Probably done better in A Gathering of Eagles (1962). The banter between tanker and bomber pilots is fun in one sequence. During a twenty-four-hour flight, Zimbalist's “travelogue” comments and accompanying back screen projected visuals should have been left on the editing floor. The Boeing bomber's interior mockups appear accurate.

Rosenman wrote a majestic march-like theme for brass and strings. Though it takes nearly half the film before we see a B-52, the theme, along with an elevated camera position, is all goose-bumpy, casting long, early morning shadows for an impressive debut as its wings spread out over the tarmac. Once the plane is front and center, we hear the theme frequently. The theme should have debuted with this sequence. But just prior, it is hilariously misplaced during a sequence of Malden riding a ubiquitous scooter several hundred feet. With the gallant theme blasting away, we expect him to end his ride next to the bomber as it fills the screen. Instead, he simply stops at the base barracks after putt-putting past the base gate. Piloting a scooter is just not very majestic.

While "blowhard dad" is in the base hospital recuperating from a bailout injury, Wood, sobbing, apologizes for being only nineteen and confesses she is no longer embarrassed by her dad's occupation. Planes are keen. Wood's constant crying is a bit tedious, but she and her father finally have an understanding. We assume Wood will marry, move out of the house and Malden will cut back on the beer volume. Near the end of the film, Wood looks rearward from Zimbalist's T-Bird, finally understanding the point of the eleven-ship B-52 formation roaring overhead. A large formation that would only be performed for a promotional demonstration. Like in this film.

Notes: I have always found the film’s title a bit of strange syntax, like “Thunderbird Ford.” The alternate title would have addressed numerous aspects of this film. For Paramount’s Strategic Air Command (sorry, Air Command Strategic), recruitment went up about 25% because of its inspiring screenplay and a believable performance by James Stewart. I doubt the Air Force got that much of a jump following this movie’s premiere. Who wants to enlist and be supervised by a character like Malden? Most would gladly choose Stewart's flight engineer, Harry Morgan.

Finally, many noted the twenty-year age gap between Zimbalist and Wood. Until the Internet, Hollywood actors' stats were not readily available. Generally, an older male was/is expected in Hollywood. Note Clark Gable with Doris Day, or John Wayne with Jean Arthur, and many others. Zimbalist, in his first major screen debut, makes it work on-screen because he appears ten years younger than reality. As many have found out since, Warner's original choice was Tab Hunter. He and Wood were hot property during this period and would have been a box office draw. Though it would solve the perceived age gap, it probably made it implausible to believe he was a seasoned pilot in the Korean War, then achieving the rank of Lieutenant Colonel at such a young age. Plus, he likely would not have pulled off the demeanor or vocal authority that Zimbalist brought to the role. Consider a major script revision pairing Wood with the handsome co-pilot, Stuart Whitman. But he and Zimbalist appear the same age! 

FLIGHT TO NOWHERE (1946)

When the Golden Gate Pictures trademark logo appeared on the screen, my knuckles started to sweat in anticipation. Directed by William Rowland and distributed by Screen Guild Productions, this seventy-nine-minute film starts at a fast pace but soon settles into a talky, mundane script, stifling interest. An overabundance of abrupt edits from Gregg Tallas may give you whiplash, as few scenes never seem to finish a thought before cutting to another character’s scene and then back to where the whirlwind began. Carl Hoefle's music score accompanies one scene and then abruptly cuts to another without music. One scene may be at a bar, then a restaurant. They are outside with martinis. Inside with martinis. Flights of confusion from Los Angeles to Death Valley and Las Vegas. Marcel LePicard's camera filters make it difficult to distinguish night from day. 

There are very few actors who might be recognized by die-hard B-movie fans. Jack Holt, the famous early Western star, plays an FBI agent out to retrieve a map containing the location of uranium deposits, which was stolen from a Korean national and subsequently murdered after leaving a dinner party. This is the first studio film to deal with an atomic bomb angle. Certain guests at the party are suspects, and Holt arranges to have his trusted pilot and former FBI agent, Alan Curtis, tail them. Curtis was a frequent player during this era and does his best Clark Gable impression at times. Their washroom scene provides some well-delivered witty lines by Curtis. The scene simply supplies the background of their espionage days during World War II. Holt pops up throughout the film to keep the viewer and Curtis abreast as the story drags on. Curtis’ witty comments are the only spark to an otherwise droll script to nowhere. He gets hit over the head more than the average charter pilot, each time accounting for his loss of a secret map. If the map gets stolen, there is a music cue by a harp to confirm it. 

Women seem attracted to Curtis, and one gets the feeling he is not surprised. First up is dinner guest and supposed countess, Micheline Cheirel, who hires him to fly her to Death Valley along with her party of four. Fans of the low-budget films of the Forties and Fifties will be familiar with Evelyn Ankers. She and Cheirel are in an atomic hat war upon their screen entrances. Cheirel’s headwear gives her an “MST3000” Crow T. Robot look while Ankers went with a breakfast-themed, fifteen-inch, ten-dollar pancake. Adding to the overall confusion is a secret letter about one of the passengers, which gets stolen five times in a matter of minutes. Numerous characters bounce from scene to scene in a disjointed fashion, so why not add another? Inez Cooper, playing Curtis’ ex-wife, arrives to complete the character maze, which includes Ankers’ brother, two other male suspects, plus a few other males that muddy the story. Cooper’s purpose in the film appears to highlight her trade secret, that of a professional pickpocket. This might explain Curtis's divorce. She is so good that a large, valuable ring disappears from Ankers’s finger, who is none the wiser. Cooper steals Curtis's (sabotaged) plane, and the subsequent crash removes her from the script. The ending in Las Vegas is precisely nineteen minutes later than it should have been, as all the atomic secrets are secured after a few suspects either die or get arrested. While in Vegas, Curtis takes the plunge at a nearby chapel. That amazing pancake hat on Anker's head was simply irresistible.

Note: This project may be most notable for bringing Hoot Gibson out of his retirement...er...element. All the filming was done on location in Chatsworth, California, and Iverson Ranch, reflecting a budget reminiscent of the films that made Gibson famous. His minuscule appearance as the sheriff is notable for his cowboy hat and a cue-perfect entrance.