The Hunters (1958)
Planes, Yes, And a Battle Between Two Wars
The provocatively titled The Hunters is mostly routine, patriotic stuff with some small twists of plot and motivation to keep it interesting. The general tone and the general outcome are givens. There are two halves to the movie. The air-to-air combat, which is exciting if you like that kind of action, and well filmed, and a human plot which lopes along with little consequence. This human half is is filmed so well, you can watch it all and soak up the sets and framing and the gently moving camera scene after scene. It's a good example of a CinemaScope production using the wide wide look, edge to edge.
The most beautiful sections are set in civilian Japan, which is an interesting emphasis for a Korean War movie. There are some pretty night shots that have great atmosphere, filled more with charcoal colors than inky black shadows. The brighter interior sets are really stunning in their horizontal sweep and photographed with a kind of professionalism that's easy to take for granted--conservative, beautiful camera-work. Add a little moment here and there, like the longing in the woman's look after she moves to the door 14 minutes in, and you have a hint of missed opportunity. And I don't just mean Mitchum's. I know other people will like the dogfights and military stuff, and if you do, check this out. It's not at all corny or clumsy, but it all looks too much same to me, even if I worry a little about who will get shot down next. A little. Notice how the movie gets far more compelling in the last half hour of fighting on the ground, looking more like WWII. And still filmed beautifully.
Significance? Actually, yes. One serious theme throughout is weighing the small Korean Conflict against World War II. Mitchum, a grave, no-nonsense veteran from the earlier war, is not only older and more experienced, he has the credentials of the real thing. He's fighting in Korea because it's the only war going on, and he's a soldier. He has the nickname the Ice Man, but the name feels patched on so the movie can show he really has a heart underneath his steely reserve. It's a paradigm for a great kind of man, I think, and an attractive one even when oversimplified. By contrast, the young pilots are casual and wisecracking, lacking discipline and any sense of commitment, mostly because their war doesn't demand it. One of them (played by Robert Wagner) is so cocky we know he's covering his cowardice. Another is an alcoholic, and his beautiful, lonely wife gets a little quality time with Mitchum, who isn't above sneaking something past one of his young colleagues (she's the little known Swedish actress, May Britt, who later married Sammy Davis, Jr.).
Anyway, Mitchum makes good in the end. They all do, those still alive.
Underlying all this is the way the Korean War in its dubiousness made these men less substantial, somehow, compared to the men formed by WWII. It's a kind of Generation X syndrome, and it feels real, these Korean War Americans driven mostly by indifference, ultimately distorted by the weird fact that they needed something bigger and more meaningful to react to. It's only after some thinking about it do you realize that Mitchum's strength of character might not be a result of WWII, after all, but of some innate sense of being a fighter. He's not looking for a cause, but for a war. In this movie, he gets a little of both.
Planes, Yes, And a Battle Between Two Wars
The provocatively titled The Hunters is mostly routine, patriotic stuff with some small twists of plot and motivation to keep it interesting. The general tone and the general outcome are givens. There are two halves to the movie. The air-to-air combat, which is exciting if you like that kind of action, and well filmed, and a human plot which lopes along with little consequence. This human half is is filmed so well, you can watch it all and soak up the sets and framing and the gently moving camera scene after scene. It's a good example of a CinemaScope production using the wide wide look, edge to edge.
The most beautiful sections are set in civilian Japan, which is an interesting emphasis for a Korean War movie. There are some pretty night shots that have great atmosphere, filled more with charcoal colors than inky black shadows. The brighter interior sets are really stunning in their horizontal sweep and photographed with a kind of professionalism that's easy to take for granted--conservative, beautiful camera-work. Add a little moment here and there, like the longing in the woman's look after she moves to the door 14 minutes in, and you have a hint of missed opportunity. And I don't just mean Mitchum's. I know other people will like the dogfights and military stuff, and if you do, check this out. It's not at all corny or clumsy, but it all looks too much same to me, even if I worry a little about who will get shot down next. A little. Notice how the movie gets far more compelling in the last half hour of fighting on the ground, looking more like WWII. And still filmed beautifully.
Significance? Actually, yes. One serious theme throughout is weighing the small Korean Conflict against World War II. Mitchum, a grave, no-nonsense veteran from the earlier war, is not only older and more experienced, he has the credentials of the real thing. He's fighting in Korea because it's the only war going on, and he's a soldier. He has the nickname the Ice Man, but the name feels patched on so the movie can show he really has a heart underneath his steely reserve. It's a paradigm for a great kind of man, I think, and an attractive one even when oversimplified. By contrast, the young pilots are casual and wisecracking, lacking discipline and any sense of commitment, mostly because their war doesn't demand it. One of them (played by Robert Wagner) is so cocky we know he's covering his cowardice. Another is an alcoholic, and his beautiful, lonely wife gets a little quality time with Mitchum, who isn't above sneaking something past one of his young colleagues (she's the little known Swedish actress, May Britt, who later married Sammy Davis, Jr.).
Anyway, Mitchum makes good in the end. They all do, those still alive.
Underlying all this is the way the Korean War in its dubiousness made these men less substantial, somehow, compared to the men formed by WWII. It's a kind of Generation X syndrome, and it feels real, these Korean War Americans driven mostly by indifference, ultimately distorted by the weird fact that they needed something bigger and more meaningful to react to. It's only after some thinking about it do you realize that Mitchum's strength of character might not be a result of WWII, after all, but of some innate sense of being a fighter. He's not looking for a cause, but for a war. In this movie, he gets a little of both.