I kind of enjoyed this, despite the stagy performances at the beginning, the ligneous leading man, and the period visual effects. It was written by Spig Wead, the protagonist of John Ford's "The Wings of Eagles", and directed by Frank Capra before he became warm and populist. Fay Wray is a cute and unwittingly sexy as she was in the same year's "King Kong," even if she does keep her dress on this time around.
Ralph Graves is a hot-shot aviator in the 1932 US Navy. You ought to see him do outside loops and laughing at orders not to do it. Jack Holt is his superior officer who is committed to the giant dirigibles that fly out of the Naval Air Station in Lakehurst, New Jersey. Graves is married to Fay Wray, whom Holt loves from afar, in a gentlemanly kind of way. Graves doesn't take Wray seriously when she complains that he's more interested in headlines and aviation trophies than he is in her. He placates her with lines like, "Say, honey, you must know nothing means more to me than you." He thinks he's smart but he's pretty dumb.
Graves is chosen to pilot a flight over the South Pole and dropping a flag on it. He decides to land the airplane and plant the flag in person, the happy-go-lucky lug. Well -- maybe not so lucky. He cracks the plane up. Two of the four-man crew wind up dead. And Graves carries the third guy until he collapses from exhaustion, hunger, and cold, abjectly accepting death. But before they can snuff it, the two men are rescued by a dirigible flown by Holt.
The first part is a little goofy. The actors speak as if they're on a stage and have to shout to reach the balconies. But the last two thirds of the film are packed with action scenes, and fairly convincing, considering the year. The suffering undergone by the crash survivors isn't stiff-upper-lip stuff either. Roscoe Karns is a wisecracking radioman on the crew. Usually these characters survive and sometimes they're given the final witticism as the film closes on the lovers kissing. But when his foot is injured and he's being hauled along on a sled, he breaks down and shouts with pain, squealing, "I don't want to cry! I don't want to cry!" It's a little horrifying. It's done with such artlessness that it's believable, and the cure turns out to be worse than the disease.
It's a commercial enterprise, not a masterpiece. Capra uses some stunning shots from high up in the rafters of the dirigible hangars but aside from that it's a straightforward and somewhat familiar adventure story. It will likely sweep you along by sheer momentum after you're through the initial exposition. Interesting to note that even in 1932 radio operators used speed keys.
Ralph Graves is a hot-shot aviator in the 1932 US Navy. You ought to see him do outside loops and laughing at orders not to do it. Jack Holt is his superior officer who is committed to the giant dirigibles that fly out of the Naval Air Station in Lakehurst, New Jersey. Graves is married to Fay Wray, whom Holt loves from afar, in a gentlemanly kind of way. Graves doesn't take Wray seriously when she complains that he's more interested in headlines and aviation trophies than he is in her. He placates her with lines like, "Say, honey, you must know nothing means more to me than you." He thinks he's smart but he's pretty dumb.
Graves is chosen to pilot a flight over the South Pole and dropping a flag on it. He decides to land the airplane and plant the flag in person, the happy-go-lucky lug. Well -- maybe not so lucky. He cracks the plane up. Two of the four-man crew wind up dead. And Graves carries the third guy until he collapses from exhaustion, hunger, and cold, abjectly accepting death. But before they can snuff it, the two men are rescued by a dirigible flown by Holt.
The first part is a little goofy. The actors speak as if they're on a stage and have to shout to reach the balconies. But the last two thirds of the film are packed with action scenes, and fairly convincing, considering the year. The suffering undergone by the crash survivors isn't stiff-upper-lip stuff either. Roscoe Karns is a wisecracking radioman on the crew. Usually these characters survive and sometimes they're given the final witticism as the film closes on the lovers kissing. But when his foot is injured and he's being hauled along on a sled, he breaks down and shouts with pain, squealing, "I don't want to cry! I don't want to cry!" It's a little horrifying. It's done with such artlessness that it's believable, and the cure turns out to be worse than the disease.
It's a commercial enterprise, not a masterpiece. Capra uses some stunning shots from high up in the rafters of the dirigible hangars but aside from that it's a straightforward and somewhat familiar adventure story. It will likely sweep you along by sheer momentum after you're through the initial exposition. Interesting to note that even in 1932 radio operators used speed keys.