If The Hunters were as in love with certain other aspects of film-making as much as it was with its jets and its coverage of its jets, we might have ended up with a more rounded film. As it happens, it's a perfectly able enough little number about the ties that bind amidst the pilots at the forefront of some rather important missions during wartime; a film which isn't quite on a par with something like Anthony Asquith's The Way to the Stars in its depiction of airbase-set life complete with the romances and complications that spawn as a result of this group of men, and often women, occupying the same space in and around a base, but suffices. By the time the film's final act has kicked in, we've pretty much gone with it; a somewhat maddening and out of place adventure sequence which stretches out to encompass ground action, gun fights and rescue missions formulating into revenge set pieces; sequences which attempt to derail most of what good preceded it, but loosely holds together.
Robert Mitchum plays the lead, the film beginning with a triumphant burst of orchestral music during the opening credits as the name of each performer pops up on screen inviting a rousing reaction from that of whomever is watching. The credits play over that of an extended shot of a large plane, the first of many examples of the film lending ample time to shots of aircraft, as it rolls along a taxiway; Mitchum's flight major Cleve Saville eventually stepping off and treading foot on the soil of Japan, in this, 1952. The reason for his being there is more broadly linked to that of The Korean War, a stretch of warfare which ran from 1950 to 53; a conflict born out of the opposing Communist and Capitalist ideals which erupted post-Second World War, the film itself very much coming to represent a part of that war of words in terms of its propagandist tendencies.
Saville is assigned to an Ameircan squadron utilising Allied Japanese bases in the country for raids on the Communist North Koreans who are fighting the South, he arrives with many-a medal insignia upon on his coat breast and the verbal confirmation of having operated out of the unforgiving conditions of London during World War II implies qualification. His assigning to 54th squadron, a "rough" group of men it seems are very much in need of Saville's expertise, sees him come into contact with an existing higher-up in that platoon named Carl Abbott (Philips) – his Norwegian, of all nationalities, wife Kristina, played by the Swedish born May Britt, arriving in tow. A further, brief history lesson on The Korean War uncovers the fact that it was, at least to my knowledge, the first conflict to have utilised aircraft not driven by propellers; the jet engines which overtook that of the old technology here used for the first time in warfare. The film is aware of this; produced nary many-a year post-conflict, and so with the innovation still somewhat fresh, it goes out of its way to encompass the jets as as much-a character or item of importance as anything else. Carl himself even complains at the difficulties faced in getting to grips with the things, citing headaches and such despite his problem with alcohol; they're new, and problematic – few have fought with such exposure to such things, whereas the film even has Saville pause to take in a proverbial 'view' upon arrival as they hare off overhead.
Saville's integration with the squadron is often put aside for his interactions with Carl's wife, the aforementioned Kristina most call Kris. His altercations with Kris are born out her own concerns and rather wavering feelings towards her husband, for whom she is worried; their coming together eventually giving way to a mutual fondness not glossed over with a montage or what-not but allowed to develop naturally as they interact: an amusing incident highlighting changing feelings occurring when the proclaimed "Iceman of the sky" Saville looses his cool, calm and laid back persona whilst in a post office and in Kris' presence by dropping several items he was carrying.
The whole thing builds to what we presume to be some sort of 'big battle'; a 'final showdown' in the skies between those dastardly Commies and the all-Americans, whom its already been suggested via a montage have superiority anyway, involving Saville and Abbott and a chief threat in the form of an unspecific North Korean pilot doing all sorts in a Soviet-made plane. When the time for that sequence comes, the proof in the pudding is in the film granting the Commies their own takeoff sequence, a blood red flume of smoke from a flair gun overbearing proceedings as each of the enemy leaves the base for the field of combat. As it happens, the dog-fight is just the starter to a more unpredictable main course; the cocktail of a man in Abbott on the edge going hand in hand with Saville, his ties to Kris and Abbott's knowledge of this on top of American pilot-hungry ground Commie troops looking to execute all manner of nastiness on anybody even remotely not attuned to their cause disparately combining and working at once. Ultimately a bit of a propaganda piece, a slice of unabashed flag waving which enjoys the company of its stars and the latest and greatest in innovation of the United States armed forces, The Hunters is a wobbly effort but dimly enjoyable in its own right.
Robert Mitchum plays the lead, the film beginning with a triumphant burst of orchestral music during the opening credits as the name of each performer pops up on screen inviting a rousing reaction from that of whomever is watching. The credits play over that of an extended shot of a large plane, the first of many examples of the film lending ample time to shots of aircraft, as it rolls along a taxiway; Mitchum's flight major Cleve Saville eventually stepping off and treading foot on the soil of Japan, in this, 1952. The reason for his being there is more broadly linked to that of The Korean War, a stretch of warfare which ran from 1950 to 53; a conflict born out of the opposing Communist and Capitalist ideals which erupted post-Second World War, the film itself very much coming to represent a part of that war of words in terms of its propagandist tendencies.
Saville is assigned to an Ameircan squadron utilising Allied Japanese bases in the country for raids on the Communist North Koreans who are fighting the South, he arrives with many-a medal insignia upon on his coat breast and the verbal confirmation of having operated out of the unforgiving conditions of London during World War II implies qualification. His assigning to 54th squadron, a "rough" group of men it seems are very much in need of Saville's expertise, sees him come into contact with an existing higher-up in that platoon named Carl Abbott (Philips) – his Norwegian, of all nationalities, wife Kristina, played by the Swedish born May Britt, arriving in tow. A further, brief history lesson on The Korean War uncovers the fact that it was, at least to my knowledge, the first conflict to have utilised aircraft not driven by propellers; the jet engines which overtook that of the old technology here used for the first time in warfare. The film is aware of this; produced nary many-a year post-conflict, and so with the innovation still somewhat fresh, it goes out of its way to encompass the jets as as much-a character or item of importance as anything else. Carl himself even complains at the difficulties faced in getting to grips with the things, citing headaches and such despite his problem with alcohol; they're new, and problematic – few have fought with such exposure to such things, whereas the film even has Saville pause to take in a proverbial 'view' upon arrival as they hare off overhead.
Saville's integration with the squadron is often put aside for his interactions with Carl's wife, the aforementioned Kristina most call Kris. His altercations with Kris are born out her own concerns and rather wavering feelings towards her husband, for whom she is worried; their coming together eventually giving way to a mutual fondness not glossed over with a montage or what-not but allowed to develop naturally as they interact: an amusing incident highlighting changing feelings occurring when the proclaimed "Iceman of the sky" Saville looses his cool, calm and laid back persona whilst in a post office and in Kris' presence by dropping several items he was carrying.
The whole thing builds to what we presume to be some sort of 'big battle'; a 'final showdown' in the skies between those dastardly Commies and the all-Americans, whom its already been suggested via a montage have superiority anyway, involving Saville and Abbott and a chief threat in the form of an unspecific North Korean pilot doing all sorts in a Soviet-made plane. When the time for that sequence comes, the proof in the pudding is in the film granting the Commies their own takeoff sequence, a blood red flume of smoke from a flair gun overbearing proceedings as each of the enemy leaves the base for the field of combat. As it happens, the dog-fight is just the starter to a more unpredictable main course; the cocktail of a man in Abbott on the edge going hand in hand with Saville, his ties to Kris and Abbott's knowledge of this on top of American pilot-hungry ground Commie troops looking to execute all manner of nastiness on anybody even remotely not attuned to their cause disparately combining and working at once. Ultimately a bit of a propaganda piece, a slice of unabashed flag waving which enjoys the company of its stars and the latest and greatest in innovation of the United States armed forces, The Hunters is a wobbly effort but dimly enjoyable in its own right.