For sheer movie adrenalin rushes and pure 100% fun thrills, nothing beats a classic serial – a staple of kiddie Bijou-pop-eyed wonder from the 1920s-50s (prior to the Jazz Age, the chapter plays were more adult-oriented). The excitement and “holy crap!” factor from the vintage stuff remains unsurpassed, since, before CGI, blue and green screens and even back-plate projection, all that derring-do was breathtakingly real. And sometimes with dire consequences. These folks were truly insane, risking (and, as indicated, occasionally giving) their lives for a couple of reels of celluloid. Seriously, WTF!?
A good amount of this craziness is apparent in a surviving silent serial, 1928’s THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN, now on DVD from the picture show addicts at The Sprocket Vault.
Is the above the greatest serial ever made? No. Is it the most exciting? Nuh-uh. Is it relevant in any way to cinema? Actually, yes. Is it fun? HELL, YEAH!
The plot, like most chapter plays, can be described in one sentence (stretched to ten weekly episodes): Ace flyer has revolutionary new equipment that baddie airman and motley crew desire. Of course, the ace flyer and his adversaries can be seamlessly replaced by detective, cowboy, railway engineer, circus performer or orthodox rabbi (well, nix the last one – just wanted to see if you’re paying attention) – you get the idea.
What makes THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN so remarkable is its timing in history – a year after the Lindbergh flight, as well as basking in the smash aftermath of the blockbuster Wings. Aviation always held a fascination for movie buffs, and these aforementioned events simply underlined that jones with a passion.
THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN also has an amazing take on wing-flapping flappers. Not one, but TWO gorgeous ladies are integral to the plot – not stay-at-home girlfriends of the rock-jaw heroes, but actual aviatrixes, who get in on the action without any male condescending title-card comments, smirking or eye-rolling glances. Pretty cool for 1928 (also the year when the fictional Phryne Fisher took to the air).
In the ten chapters that comprise THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN, we learn that Frank Baker (Walter Miller) and his flying mate Shirley Joyce (Eugenia Gilbert), thanks to the latter’s genius pop (C.H. Allen), are privy to a new device that will change the future of aviation. This MacGuffin is called the James Joyce Aerometer (as if writing Ulysses wasn’t enough!), and, of course, the evil Pilot X and his nasty (and revoltingly unhygienic) Air Hawks want to get their grubby mitts on it, so that they can sell it to an unnamed foreign power (who nonetheless have Russian-sounding names). Enter detectives, Secret Service agents, government muckety-mucks and more to help (and even hinder) Frank and Shirley’s fighting the good fight.
Like all solid serials, THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN has its share of red herrings and clichéd characters. There’s a sneaky eavesdropping butler (Arthur Morrison), a good-bad rival air service, headed by Bill Craft and Fawn Nesbitt (Robert Walker and Dorothy Tallcott), a less scrupulous couple than Frank and Shirl (and therefore, far more compelling and interesting). And, natch, there’s Pilot X, who, we all know, is likely to be one of the trusted Baker crew. Note: if you can’t figure out who it is from the first chapter, you need to turn in your Captain Midnight Decoder Ring immediately!
What’s unusual about THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN is the villain’s killing off a main character early in the game. Generally, captured good guys get mussed up, but survive. Here, it’s absolutely insidious. Pilot X takes the poor bastard up to high altitudes knowing he has a coronary condition, thus causing the dude to suffer a fatal heart attack. If I must play Devil’s Advocate, Pilot X, in his favor, does have a monkey accomplice, always a good thing.
Another atypical sidebar of THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN revolves around one of the two women mentioned previously. It’s Fawn, and we’re fawning over her. Looking amazing in leather and silk ascot togs, Fawn is introduced in every chapter as the lass wanting to be the first woman pilot to go “around the world.” Of course, they’re referring to flying, as the lady seems to be more than experienced in another more salacious meaning of that term. Ergo, a mid-serial segment where her squeeze, Bill (and Frank’s rival) suggests she “vamp” Baker to get crucial information and/or the actual aerometer. Fawn shrugs, with about as much shock to being pimped as having to go with vanilla yogurt ‘cause the honey-cinnamon was sold out. Compounding this rather extreme move is the fact that Fawn and Shirley are BFF’s. Indeed, THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN sometimes seems to transcend mere Saturday matinee kiddie filler, aspiring to the loftier heights along the lines of Mabuse for Juniors.
Then, there are the planes – including a 1920s state-of-the-art private passenger cabin cruiser – gorgeous stuff! And the era’s roadsters, which, like their flying counterparts, are frequently involved in chases and pursuits with hair-raising results.
THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN, was a decently priced serial, released by The Weiss Brothers through their Artclass Pictures Corporation (their motto: “APC, The Sign of a Good Picture”). Its obscurity is infamously heralded by the reams of inaccurate information listed in books and online sites regarding the picture’s credits, narrative and even chapter titles. To keep it clear, the movie was directed by Harry Revier, though “supervised” by George M. Merrick, written by Arthur B. Reeves (from an adaptation by Harry P. Craft), and photographed by William Miller and Bert Longenecker. The chapter titles are as follows: Air Raid, The Girl Who Flew Alone, Flaming Wings, The Flying Torpedo, The Air Pirate, The Hawk’s Nest, A Leap for Life, The Winged Avenger, The Warning from the Sky, and The Air Battle.
Only one 35MM nitrate print is known to exist, and this was the source material that The Sprocket Vault was able to obtain from the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences Archive. For the most part, the quality of the surviving film is in outstanding shape. Slight surface wear aside, the clarity, contrast and physical condition is terrific. Having just recently watched a double-bill of Hands Up! and Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em, I bemoaned the sad truth that these “A” Paramount titles don’t look one-fiftieth as good. AIRMAN even contains some of the original tints and tones; that said, decomposition has taken its toll on Chapter 9, giving up Reel One (which is explained via inter-titles and stills/lobbycards).
The Sprocket Vault has gone the distance to include a specially prepared serviceable score by Andrew Earle Simpson, audio commentary by film historian Richard M. Roberts, publicity materials, the 1928 New York Board of Censor recommendations, and a suitable short subject (also from 1928), Flying Cadets.
Aviation fans make up a large sector of the DVD/Blu-Ray collector base, so I’m sure they’ll be champing at the bit to add this rarity to their libraries. Serial junkies will want it, too – to say nothing of silent movie aficionados.
Serials, of course, should never be watched in one sitting, a lesson I learned all too well many moons ago. A chapter prior to the main feature – be it a selection from the serial’s vintage or Get Out!, is the way to go. It was with great remorse that I saw the final two reels spin on my DVD player. For the next couple of weeks I missed many of those clueless, cloud-hugging knuckleheads. But mostly, I yearned for the further adventures of Fawn – sincerely hoping that she insatiably at last made it around the world.
THE MYSTERIOUS AIRMAN. Black and white w/tints and tones. Full frame [1.33:1]; silent w/2.0 stereo score. The Sprocket Vault/Kit Parker Holdings, LLC. CAT # 35059. SRP: $24.99.
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