VON RICHTOFEN AND BROWN
d. Roger Corman, 1971

17 July 2009

Talented but green young Baron Von Richtofen is tutored in air combat by his popular commanding officer, while a newly assigned Canadian flyer named Brown ruffles feathers in the rival RAF group. Von Richtofen, and the RAF pilots, idealize themselves as elite warriors sharing a code of honor even as they strive to kill each other in battle. Brown just wants to get the job done, and the job is to kill the enemy. Eventually they will meet in the air.

VON RICHTOFEN AND BROWN is Roger Corman's GRAND ILLUSION by way of THE BLUE MAX. The small size of the cast and limited locations keep everything but the flying scenes from approaching epic scale, but this actually works in the film's favor. With only a few characters to keep track of, the flying scenes become more intimate. You're more aware that each plane is flown by a single man, engaged for the most part in the business of one-on-one combat.

Where THE BLUE MAX is pompous, empty, and overlong (stretched out, in fact, to roadshow length, complete with intermission), VON RICHTOFEN AND BROWN is lean, topical, and matter-of-fact. MAX focuses on the destructive ambition of one egotist; VON RICHTOFEN contrasts two opposing viewpoints on the role of the warrior, neither of which is right or wrong, but only one of which is fitting for modern war. The story is as sympathetic to Von Richtofen as to Brown.

Given the year of the film - 1971 - and Corman's winning talent for catering to youth culture aesthetics, it seems odd that he didn't take VON RICHTOFEN AND BROWN into the territory previously scouted by 1970's huge hit M.A.S.H. Perhaps he'd had enough of trying comedy with GAS-S-S-S. Perhaps, being a pilot himself, he just wanted to play it straight. Whatever the reason, the decision was the best one.

John Phillip Law is someone whose presence I always welcome in a film, and in stature he is a striking figure, but his Von Richtofen lacks intensity, particularly when contrasted with Don Stroud's belligerent, sniping Brown. He never manages to make Von Richtofen seem like an expert at anything, or passionate about his warcraft. There is also an overall flatness to the direction. With its staccato dialogue reminiscent of Corman's ST. VALENTINE'S DAY MASSACRE, the pace is rapid and not much time is spent developing the mood or any sense of relation between various minor characters. In some ways these facets work to the benefit of the film, but overall they make it difficult to get caught up in the movie.

(For the record, my favorite non-horror, non-SF Corman film is BLOODY MAMA. I would be hard pressed to pick a sole favorite of his horror/SF films. A BUCKET OF BLOOD would likely be one of the ten DVDs I'd rescue from a sinking plane as consolation for being stranded on a desert island, however.)