elijahbailey Reviews

Sky Commando (1953)

Not so much a movie as a raid on the combat footage library

[1/10 · 22 September 2008]

This film, with the merest of story lines to hold it together, is really just an excuse to cobble together stock combat footage, both American and German, of a mixture of American bombers, mostly B-25 Mitchells, but also B-17 Flying Fortresses, B-24 Liberators, and an occasional B-26 Marauder, all of which get intercut without regard to any sense of continuity. All cockpit interiors are of a B-25, interior fuselage shots appear to be B-26s, and in the latter half of this so-called "film", on a mission in B-24s, the close-up of the cockpit is a B-26. High-level B-24 group footage is mixed with Ploesti low-level training and mission footage without any regard to believability. Several crash sequences created for the movie are hokey-looking models. What little new-shot footage of flying done is all of training B-25s in a southwestern U.S. location without unit markings or tailcodes, intercut with stock footage of flying formations in combat paintschemes. The same stock shots of German 88 mm. anti-aircraft guns are reused several times.

When the main pilot's "B-24" is hit, the long-shot of it going down is a Boeing B-17, followed by a cheesy Liberator model crashing. Cut to five "survivors", supposedly down in Yugoslavia, who are repatriated within minutes, with the film wrapping up almost immediately thereafter.

As for a plot, there really isn't one. Bad acting, poor script - stay away from this stinker unless you just want to see combat film.

The Virginian (2000 TV Movie)

Disappointing rewriting

[16 September 2006]

I was ready to give this latest version of "The Virginian", one of my favorite novels of all time, a whirl when it aired.

I could not believe my ears, though, when in the first meeting by the black-haired man with his nemesis Trampas while playing "cyards" in Medicine Bow, Wyoming, the critical line that sets up the whole protagonist situation of the story was altered!

Owen Wister's novel reads as follows:

It was now the Virginian's turn to bet, or leave the game, and he did not speak at once.

Therefore Trampas spoke. "Your bet, you son-of-a ----,"

The Virginian's pistol came out, and his hand lay on the table, holding it unaimed. And with a voice as gentle as ever, the voice that sounded like a caress, but drawling a very little more than usual, so that there was almost a space between each word, he issued his orders to the man Trampas: --

"When you call me that, SMILE!" And he looked at Trampas across the table.

Yes, the voice was gentle. But in my ears it seemed as if somewhere the bell of death was ringing; and silence, like a stroke, fell on the large room. All men present, as if by some magnetic current, had become aware of this crisis. In my ignorance, and total stoppage of my thoughts, I stood stock-still, and noticed various people crouching, or shifting their positions.

"Sit quiet," said the dealer, scornfully, to the man near me. "Can't you see he don't want to push trouble? He has handed Trampas the choice to back down or draw his steel."

Then, with equal suddenness and ease, the room came out of its strangeness. Voices and cards, the click of chips, the puff of tobacco, glasses lifted to drink, - this level of smooth relaxation hinted no more plainly of what lay beneath than does the surface tell the depth of the sea.

For Trampas had made his choice. And that choice was not to "draw his steel."

In the Pullman production, the critical line becomes, "When you call me that - smile, so I'll know we're still friends.

EGAD!! This is both fiction - the two men had never before crossed paths, and it completely undercuts the whole tone of the exchange!

At this, I gave up on the project and turned it off. Hollywood probably thinks it can improve on the balcony scene in "Romeo and Juliet", as well!

Zelig (1983)

Historical goof in Zelig

[9/10 · 6 February 2006]

In Woody Allen's mockumentary "Zelig", a historical error creeps in during the new-shot footage of Leonard Zelig with his psychiatrist, Eudora Fletcher, when they visit with an aviatrix at an airport. In one shot they are walking towards the camera and a pair of fabric-covered wings are seen stacked against a wall in the background. The partial registration number visible on the surface of one wing is N15. If this were the 1930s as the footage purports, the civil registration would have begun NC15. The Bureau of Air Commerce, later the Civil Aeronautics Authority, and then the Civil Aeronautics Administration, would not drop the "C" portion of the United States national registration until 1948.

Orca (1977)

Worst movie I paid cash to see

[1/10 · 1 July 2005]

Without a doubt, this is one of the worst pictures I ever actually paid money to see - the kind of flick you choose out of desperation at the mall cinema during a Christmas holiday when you have missed the start times for anything good but still are dead set on seeing a movie! And that is exactly how I came to see this stink bomb...

At the distance of the better part of three decades I can still smell the rotting fish that constitute this story line. Unbelievable plot - that a killer whale carries a grudge against an individual not of the sea - is laughable. And that's about all, except for a completely out-of-place "love theme" that plays over the finish of a film devoid of a love story. At least Charlotte Rampling is lovely (in a two dimensional role) but Richard Harris just chews up the scenery. He was no Captain Quint (Robert Shaw) and this is no "Jaws". Mercifully, I have put most of it out of mind and when I run across it on television air casts I move on immediately. "Danger, Will Robinson!" See the current t.v. commercial showing a husband and wife whale-watching ("Orca - I love Orca...") - at least it is over in sixty seconds. This flick represents 92 minutes of my life that I will never get back.

Dream Girl of '67 (1966–1967)

More notable for the interruption than the show

[8 June 2005]

This was a short-lived attempt at placing a beauty pageant program in the context of a regular daytime game show - a sort of early American Idol format without the focus on talent. Aired in mid-afternoon on, as I recall, ABC-TV, it really represented little more than filler on the last-rated national television network at the time. ("Batman" was ABC's only real hit in that era.) That it was little more than eye-candy pap is strongly suggested by the fact that in its one year run it had no fewer than three regular hosts.

Possibly its most memorable moment had nothing to do with the show itself. On August 25, 1967, this viewer was killing a bit of summer vacation before sixth grade classes began in a fortnight, watching the show in Falls Church, Virginia, when the local Washington, D.C. network affiliate broke in on Wink Martindale to give a news bulletin that American Nazi Party founder George Lincoln Rockwell had been slain while pulling out of the parking lot of an Arlington, Virginia laundramat by a disaffected follower, a location only five miles from my home.

Aside from this singular event, I doubt that I would have any recollection of the program, which died a deserved death at the end of the only season it was aired.

The Carol Burnett Show (1967–1978)

TV great moment

[2 June 2005]

The Carol Burnett Show was the last great stand of the variety show format and what a stand it was! One of the best comedy talent line-ups ever to grace a sound stage, enhanced by wardrobe genius Bob Mackie's fabulous costuming, gave the country a weekly joy ride.

One of the funniest moments in the history of American television came during the show's send up of Margaret Mitchell's epic Civil War story retitled "Went With The Wind." The moment that "Miss Starlett" (Burnett in the Vivien Leigh role) appears at the top of the staircase in the green velvet dress made from curtains, complete with rods, ranks as one of television's most exuberantly hilarious sight gags. And one of the longest sustained laughs. This sketch alone fully justifies the Carol Burnett Show being remembered as one of the most entertaining comedy programs ever. And there were so MANY other skits as well!

Stealing the Superfortress (2001 TV Movie)

How the Soviets stole the B-29

[9/10 · 29 May 2005]

This is a well-researched documentary explaining how the Soviet Union gained their first long-range heavy bomber design by reverse-engineering the Boeing B-29 Superfortress. Three examples were interned by the Soviets in World War II when their U.S. Army Air Force crews flew them onto Russia after bombing Japan where they suffered battle damage or suffered mechanical failures. These were named "Ramp Tramp", "Ding Hao" and the "Gen. H.H. Arnold Special." The flight crews were eventually permitted to secretly "escape" through Iran and reassigned stateside to keep their return from creating an international incident and antagonize the Japanese over "neutral" Russia. But the Russians kept the bombers.

Development of the state-of-the-aviation-art B-29 by Boeing and the USAAF is covered as well as details of deployment of the "Superfort" to the Pacific Theatre.

Extensive information and footage about the Russian mission to copy the complex B-29 design then follows, including details of Josef Stalin's pressure on Russian aeronautical engineers working under Andre M. Tupolev to complete the duplication. The Soviets had known of the Superfortress through comments made by Eddie V. Rickenbacker during a visit to Russia and coveted the design details. They mounted a significant espionage effort to gather information on the B-29. Then the three combat aircraft fell into their hands providing a template for an incredibly difficult task of reverse engineering. The pressurization and remote control weapon systems proved especially tricky for the Soviet engineers as these represented a quantum leap for the Russian aircraft industry. The "Gen. H.H. Arnold Special" was completely dismantled to provide templates for the copies.

The first production TU-4, as the "new" bomber was designated, was delivered in May 1947, and made its public debut at the August 1947 Tushino Airshow, startling Western observers. Furthermore, a single example of a transport version, the Tupolev TU-70, proves to the West that the Soviet Union has successfully copied the Superfortress technology and is not merely displaying the original three captured B-29s. Nearly 850 TU-4s would be built and they served into the 1960s although they were used for training and transports after the mid-1950s. Coverage of the TU-4's operational service is provided including an interview with a pilot who flew on the only near-combat mission the TU-4 saw, a possible strike against Hungarian uprising headquarters on 30 November 1956 which was recalled. Footage is shown of the sole preserved TU-4 in a Russian aviation museum at Monino. "Fifi", the resurrected B-29 operated by the Commemorative Air Force (formerly the Confederate Air Force) is shown.

All in all, a very informative documentary effort.

The War Lover (1962)

War Lover back story

[7/10 · 15 March 2005]

Aviation author Martin Caiden (his books were the basis for the film "Marooned" and the t.v show "The Six Million Dollar Man") published a book entitled "Everything But The Flak" that detailed the efforts to revive three Navy PB-1 Flying Forts and the ensuing flight adventure of moving them across the Atlantic to England for the making of "The War Lover" which is a "must read" for those interested in the making of this film. He accompanied the flight crews and although his larger-than-life account of their hijinks (rumbling with Soviets in the airport in Greenland, being locked up by Interpol in Portugal on suspicion of smuggling illicit warplanes - after all these three B-17s had active gun turrets) must be taken with a grain of salt, the guy sure could spin a great yarn! The book is probably WAY out of print but is well worth seeking out as it gives some idea of the difficulty of reactivating three WW II bombers years before the warbird revival got underway. Unfortunately, due to import/export duties in England in the early 1960s, Columbia Pictures scrapped two of the three Fortresses after filming was completed and only one has survived, used for promotion of the film before being passed onto other hands.

The movie itself has lots of B-17 action of the planes taxiing around the airfield prior to mission take-off that is frequently edited out for television broadcast to save time for commercials or to fit into a specific airtime envelope. If it airs uncut, notice the patchy paint on the Fortress noses as three airframes portray a much larger squadron, with nose art changed several times.

Mark Sublette, Falls Church, Virginia