BOMBERS B-52 (1957)

This CinemaScope production is Warner Brother's 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 first-hand 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 does 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 ground camera crew's work is to be 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 Irving Wallace's soap opera screenplay which I already warned you about. Perhaps because of this, there are some authentic Air Force procedural details that are overlooked. 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 devoted husband dominates the movie, despite Wood receiving top billing. His quest shot on a popular quiz show he obsesses over and the sequence of an antsy father awaiting Wood's pre-dawn return from a date with Zimbalist is a bit embarrassing. Comedy was never his strong suit, being typically 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. The takeoffs and flybys are exciting, if not spectacular. 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 to be well done.

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 bail-out 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 strange. Not normal wording. As if stating, “Automobiles Ford.” The alternate title used in some outlets, “No Sleep Till Dawn” makes more sense for this flying soap opera. Note the Dell publication promo above, left. The title would have covered the airmen's twenty-four-hour missions and Malden's twenty-four-hour angst over his daughter's behavior. For Paramount’s “Strategic Air Command”―Air Command Strategic―recruitment went up about 25% because of its inspiring screenplay and an endearing 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, one may need a big dose of suspended disbelief when considering the twenty-year age gap between the real Zimbalist and Wood. Yet it works on-screen if you mentally subtract and add five years, respectively. Zimbalist, in his first major screen debut, and Wood were contracted to Warner Bros. It would have been unlikely to have replaced either. As many film buffs know, Warner's original choice was Tab Hunter. This would have solved the age gap but probably made it implausible to believe he had achieved the rank of Lt. Colonel at such a young age. Given a larger role, maybe the better Wood paring would have been a romance with handsome co-pilot, Stuart Whitman, with only ten years between them. Curious to consider, too, three up-and-coming actresses cutting the age gap by about a decade: Anne Francis, Tippi Hedren, and Elaine Stewart. Either would have eliminated the “stay at home” daughter premise and, in turn, saved us from Malden's clichéd daddy performance.

FLIGHT TO NOWHERE (1946)

When the Golden Gate Pictures trademark logo appears on the screen my knuckles start 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 of note in this one. Only die-hard B-movie fans might recognize them. FBI agent, Jack Holt, needs to retrieve a map containing the location of uranium deposits which was stolen from a Korean national who was subsequently murdered after leaving a dinner party. Certain guests at the party are all suspects and Holt arranges to have his trusted pilot and former FBI agent, Alan Curtis, tail them. Curtis, at times, does his best Clark Gable impression. 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 a bit 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. She and passenger, Evelyn Ankers, are in an atomic hat war of grand proportions 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. There are more than enough characters bouncing 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' divorce. She is so good, that a large, valuable ring disappears from Ankers’ finger, who is none the wiser. Cooper steals Curtis' plane, now sabotaged, 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 is probably the first film to deal with an atom bomb angle and 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 which made Gibson famous. His minuscule appearance as the sheriff is notable for his cowboy hat and a cue-perfect entrance.