A propaganda piece for the recent, flawed, US involvement in the Korean conflict, this feature struggles to raise itself above raw patriotism and is further hindered by its focus on a romantic attachment which fails to, pardon the cliche, 'take off'. Where the film redeems itself somewhat is in its depiction of some events based on the real-life exploits of one Captain Lillian M Kinkella, the most highly-decorated officer of the 801st Medical Evacuation Squadron sent to Korea. After her mother was abandoned by her father, Lillian and her two siblings were brought up in a convent, where her witnessing of the nuns' administering to the needy led her to seek a career in nursing. Her career-long wartime service, with 175 evacuations in Korea, adding to the 250 she carried out from the D-day landings to Patton's progress through France, made her the ideal technical advisor to this feature. Given the screenplay's propensity to wax lyrical over the efforts and dedication shown by all those who saw active service within, or supported the troops' struggles in pursuing victory in, the Korean conflict, one can clearly detect the heavy influence of both the United States Airforce and Department of Defence upon the feature, as acknowledged within the opening credits. Nevertheless, the paucity of true quality within the script, equally could denote the lack of apparent energy the writer, Alan Le May, could spare for the project, given the fact he was probably working diligently on his novel 'The Searchers', published the following year, which, aside from being turned into a true movie classic by John Ford just three years later, would set Le May's future career path more firmly into literature as opposed to writing screenplays - this would be the penultimate screenplay of his career. Hence, this could explain the lengthy quantities of internal dialogues delivered by the main protagonist, as opposed to more meaningful interactions in the script. Amidst these, horror of horrors, recourse is even given to rhymes which set this reviewer's teeth on edge, such as on the following plea to God to protect one of the casualties - 'His tired face is dark with pain/Lend him your strength till he smiles again'.
The leading role of Lt. Polly Davies was undertaken by Joan Leslie, who, just like the rest of the supporting female cast, had long since enjoyed her spot in the 'celluloid' sunshine. Her parts had dried up since being blacklisted by Jack Warner as a result of her 1946 legal success in releasing herself from her Warner Bros contract. In addition, over recent years, she had also taken the decision to place her career on the back-burner to focus more instead on rearing her children.
Yet, whatever this feature's weaknesses are, her earnest portrayal of the dutiful application and selflessness of these 'Angels Over Korea', as heralded by this feature's alternative film title, constitute the best scenes the movie offers. As her character declares, in what the audience will learn to appreciate more fully in her final decision on where her true heart lies: 'There's nothing more gratifying on earth than being needed and able to do something about it'. The only contradiction to her resolute preparedness being the amusing need to touch up her make-up as the aerial transport is about to splash down in the middle of the sea.
By contrast, some of the weakest scenes of the feature surround the 'love triangle' between our flight nurse, her rescue helicopter pilot fiancé, and the pilot of her air ambulance who decides to contend for her affections. Fortunately, the latter is played by the regular top-billing actor in the B-movies at Republic Pictures, Forrest Tucker, whose screen presence effectively means that his love rival is much more invisible before his helicopter is downed with his disappearance behind enemy lines. Ironically, it is the vacuous Arthur Franz, unconvincingly cast to all intents and purposes as the love interest, who in real-life had the most dramatic wartime service. Whilst serving as a navigator on a B-24 heavy bomber in the Second World War, Franz was shot down over Romania, and incarcerated in a POW camp, from which he daringly escaped. In terms of the supporting cast, many had seen their own career on screen decline with the end of hostilities in 1945, including Richard Crane, who comically plays the worst room-mate any girl holding out for any hope would wish to have show them round their missing partner's quarters.
Shot entirely on Travis Airforce Base in California, any realism this film captures is grounded by the use of stock footage of the Korean conflict, as well as the use of military hardware so key to the story of the Medical Evacuation Squadron - the Douglas C-47 Skytrain.
The director, Allen Dwan, was a helmer of more than considerable experience, having worked on features for the likes of Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, and more than anyone else, Gloria Swanson, for whom he was the director of choice. Noted for cultivating an unadorned style, Dwan certainly felt no need to embellish the story being told here. Yet, perhaps both his and Le May's greatest failing was in not toning down the level of open 'commie-bashing', which points more towards the paranoia mindset of the dangers of communism which afflicted the US at that time. Hence the inclusion of one dialogue focusing on the enemy's use of 'brainwshing' between Polly and her friend and colleague, Lt. Anne Phillips, played by the ever-reliable Jeff Donnell. Even our dewy-eyed heroine cannot hide her unabashed joy at seeing an enemy fighter shot down. Worst of all is the extended scene in which the questioning of a liberated POW is allowed to take place before an open courtroom, including the evacuation nurses, leaving a bitter aftertaste in this reviewer's mouth of how much it smacks of the excesses of McCarthyism. This is despite the fact that the testimony-giver that we the audience get to observe, ludicrously appears to enjoy an equal measure of misfortune and blind unadulterated luck on a par with Catch-22's bomber-pilot Orr, with his recurring recapture by the enemy and survival of at least two execution parties.
Overall, aside from the sequence, where their air ambulance has to be ditched, where Le May's script matches the drama behind the events, there is no question that this feature raises as little interest as its bland title. However, the 1954 NY Times review was more than a little harsh when it declared that the resolute and courageous military flight nurses were deserving of a better tribute than they received here.
The leading role of Lt. Polly Davies was undertaken by Joan Leslie, who, just like the rest of the supporting female cast, had long since enjoyed her spot in the 'celluloid' sunshine. Her parts had dried up since being blacklisted by Jack Warner as a result of her 1946 legal success in releasing herself from her Warner Bros contract. In addition, over recent years, she had also taken the decision to place her career on the back-burner to focus more instead on rearing her children.
Yet, whatever this feature's weaknesses are, her earnest portrayal of the dutiful application and selflessness of these 'Angels Over Korea', as heralded by this feature's alternative film title, constitute the best scenes the movie offers. As her character declares, in what the audience will learn to appreciate more fully in her final decision on where her true heart lies: 'There's nothing more gratifying on earth than being needed and able to do something about it'. The only contradiction to her resolute preparedness being the amusing need to touch up her make-up as the aerial transport is about to splash down in the middle of the sea.
By contrast, some of the weakest scenes of the feature surround the 'love triangle' between our flight nurse, her rescue helicopter pilot fiancé, and the pilot of her air ambulance who decides to contend for her affections. Fortunately, the latter is played by the regular top-billing actor in the B-movies at Republic Pictures, Forrest Tucker, whose screen presence effectively means that his love rival is much more invisible before his helicopter is downed with his disappearance behind enemy lines. Ironically, it is the vacuous Arthur Franz, unconvincingly cast to all intents and purposes as the love interest, who in real-life had the most dramatic wartime service. Whilst serving as a navigator on a B-24 heavy bomber in the Second World War, Franz was shot down over Romania, and incarcerated in a POW camp, from which he daringly escaped. In terms of the supporting cast, many had seen their own career on screen decline with the end of hostilities in 1945, including Richard Crane, who comically plays the worst room-mate any girl holding out for any hope would wish to have show them round their missing partner's quarters.
Shot entirely on Travis Airforce Base in California, any realism this film captures is grounded by the use of stock footage of the Korean conflict, as well as the use of military hardware so key to the story of the Medical Evacuation Squadron - the Douglas C-47 Skytrain.
The director, Allen Dwan, was a helmer of more than considerable experience, having worked on features for the likes of Douglas Fairbanks, Mary Pickford, and more than anyone else, Gloria Swanson, for whom he was the director of choice. Noted for cultivating an unadorned style, Dwan certainly felt no need to embellish the story being told here. Yet, perhaps both his and Le May's greatest failing was in not toning down the level of open 'commie-bashing', which points more towards the paranoia mindset of the dangers of communism which afflicted the US at that time. Hence the inclusion of one dialogue focusing on the enemy's use of 'brainwshing' between Polly and her friend and colleague, Lt. Anne Phillips, played by the ever-reliable Jeff Donnell. Even our dewy-eyed heroine cannot hide her unabashed joy at seeing an enemy fighter shot down. Worst of all is the extended scene in which the questioning of a liberated POW is allowed to take place before an open courtroom, including the evacuation nurses, leaving a bitter aftertaste in this reviewer's mouth of how much it smacks of the excesses of McCarthyism. This is despite the fact that the testimony-giver that we the audience get to observe, ludicrously appears to enjoy an equal measure of misfortune and blind unadulterated luck on a par with Catch-22's bomber-pilot Orr, with his recurring recapture by the enemy and survival of at least two execution parties.
Overall, aside from the sequence, where their air ambulance has to be ditched, where Le May's script matches the drama behind the events, there is no question that this feature raises as little interest as its bland title. However, the 1954 NY Times review was more than a little harsh when it declared that the resolute and courageous military flight nurses were deserving of a better tribute than they received here.