THESPIRITOFST.LOUIS

Here's an idea for a film. How about one guy flying alone an airplane for half the film. The rest of the film? He gets the plane ready for the trip. Love interest? The guy really likes his plane.
How about one of Billy Wilder's better movies. As you might have guessed from the title, the film's about Charles Lindbergh's historic solo flight across the Atlantic in 1927. The name of his plane, "The Spirit of Saint Louis", was from the city whose businessmen financed the operation. From our present vantage point we can hardly hardly imagine how inspiring a feat that was now that airplane engines are dinning in our ears and a flight across the Atlantic is available to anyone with a few hundred dollars. But watch the film newsreels of the time though; the ticker-tape parades, the politicians straining to get in the same picture with him. It seems idiotic, but there it was. The nearest we would now is if a man would construct his own rocket and fly to Mars.
The film has three acts: the young flyer gains his wings, preparing for the big attempt and flying the Atlantic. The flying fool days are presented in flashback, and attempt to round Charles Lindbergh's character; they're for the most part badly done slapstick, but one thing shown is the wonderful freedom those early flyers of the twenties felt. As yet there were no rules, no licenses to get, just buy a used plane and start flying. If you had engine trouble or were tired, no problem, just land anywhere, a farm field or open space would do. Flying high in the sky must've been an awesome experience in those days, before instruments, communications and lots of red tape. One scene shows two flyers who see each other in the sky; they signal for a landing; land in a farm field; and have lunch under the shade of some trees.
The film walks at a leisurely pace through the preparations for the flight and the building of the plane, with Wilder's humorous and sarcastic touches for seasoning. But the flight itself is like stepping into a different film; the stakes are large; all of a sudden the news media and thus the world's attention are focused on the young pilot. Lindbergh was one of the new breed of technocrats, who didn't really understand the fuss, they just wanted to do the job. World War II found them designing the instruments of destruction that were war-winning, and ultimately led the the atomic bomb. But in 1927, technology was still thought of as the solution, not the problem; and the skies didn't reek of gasoline.
The drama notches up as Lindbergh walks to his airplane. Several people had recently died trying to do just what Lindberg was about to try. A women breaks through the police line to give him her compact, he'd asked for a mirror, symbolizing the hopes of millions of ordinary people who are rooting for him. Its raining; the plane is overweight, but he makes it into the air and is off. Now comes an amazing journey across thousands of miles by one man. He does a lot of talking to himself, or to the fly that has hitched a ride in his plane too. Its a spare and claustrophobic, but harrowing and heroic journey. You don't have to be a heroic figure to identify, you can be anyone whose ever gone through a tough time alone, be it on the job, or a personal trial. Lindbergh had been too nervous to sleep the night before, so he's a little punchy as he flies the arc over first Nova Scotia, then the far north Atlantic, even dozing off for a few minutes while the plane does loops in the sky. It's a taught piece of work, by a great filmmaker and actor team.
Jimmy Stewart was the actor emeritus of America in 1957 and his interest in flying was born from his service in the Army Air Force in WWII. Stewart continued to play an active role in the United States Air Force Reserve after the war, eventually achieving the rank of Brigadier General. By I957, he's a little old to play the young Lindbergh, but he puts his all into it, you can feel his joy at making this film about the sky god of the I920s







Col. Stewart being awarded the
Croix de guerre with palm by Lt.
Gen. Henri Valin, Chief of Staff of
the French Air Force, for his role
in the liberation of France. I945