The sort of idea that initially sounds intriguing - Journey's End only with war pilots. You can see the appeal - a great piece of material, similar sense of doom, constant death, only they're out in the open. I can see why Nat Cohen greenlit it.
However the film doesn't work. In hindsight, Sherrif's piece is more effective when cramped and damp. This is too open. Maybe it could have worked. But there's no atmosphere. You never ( I didn't anyway) feel the desperation and impending doom or the sense that people are cracking up. Jack Gold didn't do much of a job directing. I had trouble telling characters apart. Compare it to say the 1938 Dawn Patrol - that was full of urgency and desperation.
The emotional undercurrents aren't there. In Sheriff's play it's very clear - the young guy hero worships the older guy who is cracking up. There's an old duffer who in a great scene chats with the young guy before they go off on the mission. That's all missing here.
Part of it is the acting. This features three big stars-to-be of English cinema: Simon Ward, Malcolm McDowell, Peter Firth. None rise to the occasion. Firth is a blank slate. You can see why he didn't become a star - there's nothing there. Ward has a flashy role as a pilot who is cracking up but he can't do it. Neither can, more surprisingly, McDowell. Maybe McDowell could have played Ward's role - just ate up the scenery.
Howard Barker who wrote the script dismissed the film, saying the original idea was bad and that the final movie was basically public schoolboys flying over Surrey. This is mean, if true.
Plane fans will get a lot out of it. I think they've have been better off remaking Dawn Patrol.
No comments:
Post a Comment