Clouded Differences

FLYING DUKES OF THE AIR

In Hollywood, when in doubt, repeat. A rule quickly learned by all (would-be and established) producers, specifically Edmund Grainger who wisely parlayed that truism into a blockbuster with 1951’s FLYING LEATHERNECKS, now on Blu-Ray from The Warner Archive Collection.

Grainger had previously scored large in 1942 with Flying Tigers (see last column), the biggest hit Republic Pictures had up until that time. Regrouping at RKO a decade later, he commissioned a script with “Flying” in the title, partnered with Tigers‘s former screenwriter Kenneth Gamet (who came up with the story for the script written by James Edward Grant and Bernie Lay, Jr.), and, under the auspices of studio head Howard Hughes (who pretty much green lit any picture with an airplane in it), defiantly soldiered on. As with Tigers, which partially based its narrative on Howard Hawks’s Only Angels Have Wings, Grainger, once again turned to Hawks for “inspiration”, and, in fact, did a retread of The Dawn Patrol. Tigers also had a fairly liberal director at its helm, David Miller; Grainger upped the game with the unusual choice of Nick Ray – so progressive and liberal, that he made Miller look like Joe McCarthy. Furthermore, this redux would be filmed in Technicolor – a major upgrade. And, oh, yeah, for his star, he went with his 1942 lead, John Wayne, essentially playing the same role (this time as Major Daniel Xavier Kirby).

LEATHERNECKS had some very noteworthy elements, primarily Wayne’s character’s nemesis, Captain Carl Griffin. RKO likely would have preferred one of their contract males, whom Wayne could have easily steamrolled, but Ray flexed his directorial muscles, and demanded Robert Ryan – a progressive liberal like himself, and one of Nick’s best friends in Hollywood. Ray figured Ryan’s charisma could kick Wayne’s ass on-screen (or at least equal it), and he was right.

The movie chronicles the diminishing numbers of American fliers practically marooned on a South Seas atoll, under constant attack from the Japanese. Their ability to fly under the enemy’s radar on super-dangerous missions provide the plethora of the suspenseful, expertly-filmed action sequences.

The conflict between Wayne and Ryan is neck-and-neck, with Ryan the more compassionate (only because Wayne has been broken by too many deaths); both give worthy performances. A bit of Ray-Ryan empathy comes into play when Wayne chastises the newbies of being like a bunch of college kids. “They ARE kids!,” snaps back Ryan.

Female participation, while prominent in the posters, was minimal but crucial, and kept to brief flashbacks, and briefer furlough scenes (including Kirby’s home life); these bits were enacted by a handful of beauteous RKO starlets, including Gail Davis (later TV’s Annie Oakley), always dressed for housework in jewelry and lipstick.

The cast, in toto, is in actuality, quite good and additionally comprises Don Taylor, Jay C. Flippen, William Harrigan, James Bell, Barry Kelley, Adam Williams, Maurice Jara, James Dobson, Carleton Young, Michael St. Angel, Gordon Gebert, Milton Kibbee, Keith Larsen, Harry Lauter, John Mitchum, Milburn Stone, Dick Wessel, (soon-to-be casting-director-extraordinaire) Lynn Stalmaster, and, representing the ladies: Janis Carter (as Kirby’s wife), Inez Cooper, Jane Easton, Shela Fritz, Mona Knox, Patricia Prest, Elaine Roberts, and Mavis Russell.

The picture pulled a few punches in the authenticity department, mainly via the generous usage of recently lensed color footage from the then-Korean Conflict. The planes are obviously much advanced from the air power used during WWII. That said, quality and grain aside, Ray and editor Sherman Todd did a superlative job of matching the film with the studio-shot material. And that fade-out visual is a masterpiece of timing and staging. Bravo, Nick!

The Warner Archive Blu-Ray of FLYING LEATHERNECKS is a revelation, like owning your own pristine 35MM Technicolor print. The color, in particular, must be mentioned, as the decades of WOR-TV prints (they owned the RKO library) were lousy – not reddish (like the MCA Paramounts), but faded and dull. I knew this couldn’t be the way they originally looked – and restorations of She Wore a Yellow Ribbon, The White Tower, Sinbad the Sailor, etc. proved my suspicions correct. This platter looks outstanding – a tribute to cinematographer William E. Snyder. A nice score by studio talent Roy Webb compliments the visuals.

I briefly worked with Nick Ray in the mid-1970s, and asked him about this movie. Initially, he termed it as probably “the worst picture I ever made at RKO, and, naturally, my biggest hit there!” I countered with a hypothetical battle between him and Ryan vs. Wayne. While Ray admitted Wayne’s politics were “impossible,” he also (as usual) proved me wrong. “Let me tell you about John Wayne. He’s is perhaps…THE most professional [screen actor] I’ve ever worked with. Never late, never missed a line or a mark. Always available at moment’s notice. I’d work with him again. I’d work with him now.” Apparently, the Duke concurred, and, I once heard committed to Samuel Bronston’s Circus World due, in part, to Ray’s being attached to the project (Nick bolted, refusing to even consider directing, but did retain a co-story credit). Curiously, they both passed in 1979, five days apart (Wayne on June 11^th, Nick on June 16^th).

FLYING LEATHERNECKS Color. Full frame [1.37:1; 1080p High Definition]; 2.0 DTS-HD MA. The Warner Archive Collection/Warner Bros. Home Entertainment. SRP: $21.99.