The title makes it sound as if this were some science fiction movie but it's really a celebration of the United States Air Force, circa 1956 -- a kind of enjoyable infomercial. Lots of high-echelon guys in snappy blue uniforms, Ineractional antagonisms, personal demons, technical challenges, and a nice-looking dame thrown in.
As for the plot, it could be a recycling of one of the Warner Brothers' frames from the 1930s. The general in charge of flight testing at Edwards Air Force Base is Lloyd Nolan, but it could have been Pat O'Brien. The younger test pilot, anxious to prove himself after being tortured by the North Koreans, is William Holden but it could have been Jimmy Cagney. The pointless comic relief is supplied by the adjutant, Edward Brophy -- I mean L. Q. Jones. The dame is the general's secretary, Virginia Leith, who would have been somebody like Barbara Stanwyck in 1935.
Overall, though it lacks originality in the narrative, it's an interesting movie, especially if you like the jet fighters and experimental rocket ships of the mid-50s. There's not much of it because most of the screen time is taken up with the muted competition between Holden and Nolan, both for the first "double-rocket" ride in the X-2, and for the affections of secretary Leith. (Guess who wins her heart?) Virginia Leith is an attractive enough woman and in real life, I imagine, a paragon of probity. The problem is that she can't act. She has the same problem with her voice that Sean Young had. There's nothing much they can do about it but neither has ever uttered a believable line. There's a scene between Leith and Holden, about half-way through, when she chides him for giving up on himself. They snap at each other and she runs away in tears. It's like watching a deliberate display of professional talent infused with boredom on Holden's part and an inability to act at all on Leith's, who leaves her dignity in a crumpled heap on the floor.
The director is Mervyn LeRoy, who had been around for a long time. He tries to inject into some of the flight sequences the thrill of being aloft and having shed the surly bonds of earth but somehow it doesn't work, so what we see is a wide-eyed Holden in a big helmet intercut with aerial shots of the Mojave desert, accompanied by music designed to signal awe. LeRoy is sometimes careless too. The frightened Lieutenant, Jones, who tries to do everything by the book to please his general, accompanies Nolan to a departing airplane by more or less strolling after him instead of walking in step, per protocol.
In a way, Lloyd Nolan as the general has the most appealing role. It's not nearly as dramatic as Holden's, yet Nolan does at least as good a job, and the character is more human. We can only imagine what Holden went through as a tortured prisoner of war. But we can all more easily identify with Nolan -- a man who is growing older, no longer fit for the rigors of test flying, never been married, in love with a younger woman who is attracted to a younger, more handsome man. A case study in declining potency. He has nothing to look forward to but his allegiance to the Air Force and a dull desk job in Baltimore. Now that's a real tragedy.
As for the plot, it could be a recycling of one of the Warner Brothers' frames from the 1930s. The general in charge of flight testing at Edwards Air Force Base is Lloyd Nolan, but it could have been Pat O'Brien. The younger test pilot, anxious to prove himself after being tortured by the North Koreans, is William Holden but it could have been Jimmy Cagney. The pointless comic relief is supplied by the adjutant, Edward Brophy -- I mean L. Q. Jones. The dame is the general's secretary, Virginia Leith, who would have been somebody like Barbara Stanwyck in 1935.
Overall, though it lacks originality in the narrative, it's an interesting movie, especially if you like the jet fighters and experimental rocket ships of the mid-50s. There's not much of it because most of the screen time is taken up with the muted competition between Holden and Nolan, both for the first "double-rocket" ride in the X-2, and for the affections of secretary Leith. (Guess who wins her heart?) Virginia Leith is an attractive enough woman and in real life, I imagine, a paragon of probity. The problem is that she can't act. She has the same problem with her voice that Sean Young had. There's nothing much they can do about it but neither has ever uttered a believable line. There's a scene between Leith and Holden, about half-way through, when she chides him for giving up on himself. They snap at each other and she runs away in tears. It's like watching a deliberate display of professional talent infused with boredom on Holden's part and an inability to act at all on Leith's, who leaves her dignity in a crumpled heap on the floor.
The director is Mervyn LeRoy, who had been around for a long time. He tries to inject into some of the flight sequences the thrill of being aloft and having shed the surly bonds of earth but somehow it doesn't work, so what we see is a wide-eyed Holden in a big helmet intercut with aerial shots of the Mojave desert, accompanied by music designed to signal awe. LeRoy is sometimes careless too. The frightened Lieutenant, Jones, who tries to do everything by the book to please his general, accompanies Nolan to a departing airplane by more or less strolling after him instead of walking in step, per protocol.
In a way, Lloyd Nolan as the general has the most appealing role. It's not nearly as dramatic as Holden's, yet Nolan does at least as good a job, and the character is more human. We can only imagine what Holden went through as a tortured prisoner of war. But we can all more easily identify with Nolan -- a man who is growing older, no longer fit for the rigors of test flying, never been married, in love with a younger woman who is attracted to a younger, more handsome man. A case study in declining potency. He has nothing to look forward to but his allegiance to the Air Force and a dull desk job in Baltimore. Now that's a real tragedy.