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Python to Cobra - Who's the Man?

How long has it been since we've watched a movie where my boyfriend Robert Mitchum valiantly fights a war and at some point winds up in a cave hiding from bad guys? Or one in which my boyfriend Robert Mitchum grapples (in a purely manly fashion, to be certain) with a love that can not be had? The answer, of course, is that it's been too long. It's also been too long since I wrote about a movie in which things blow up. So let's solve all these problems at once with a Korean war film in yummy Color by Deluxe called The Hunters.

Since my emotional interest in RM isn't going to come as any surprise, let's start instead with the explosions. Dick Powell's The Hunters is about fighter pilots in the Korean War. They drink and smoke and wear jaunty pilot uniforms and get supersonic with some REALLY OLD jets. There is a whole posse of them, but they deploy in smaller battle groups called squadrons. Robert Mitchum, naturally, is a leader of one of these squadrons. He's pretty much awesome at the piloting and the shooting down of the bad guys. And even though I have stressed how dated the jets are, watching these planes dance through the sky is still cool. It's one of those things where the scope and the spectacle is really well captured on film, as opposed to trying to imagine these aerial escapades through reading or in some other way. The jets get in dogfights up in the air over Korea, and when one succeeds in shooting down another one, it usually means an explosive, fiery, blown up end for someone. And as such, the stakes for our noble American flyboys are pretty high.

But, honestly, you can't call Robert Mitchum a boy at this point in his career. Though he very much appears to be too old for a combat assignment, the movie is self aware about that, and addresses and makes fun of his age several times, which I love. So what if the dude is old? If we learned anything from Gregory Peck, it's that age doesn't have any dampening effect on a true American hero's ability to kick ass. Kicking ass is a cinch for such fellows - negotiating the personalities, emotions and relationships of one's literal wingmen, however, is not. Especially, if, say, you've got a serious crush on May Britt, who plays the pretty blond wife of one of your wingmen, a wingman who happens to be inattentive to said pretty wife, is struggling with feelings of martial inadequacy, and is an alcoholic on top of that. Say pretty blond wife likes you back (because, well, you're my sexy boyfriend Robert Mitchum), but she cares still for her husband and wants you to look out for him when you go into battle. You can see how that could get complicated.

Initially with this movie, I was all about the romance. But with subsequent, more careful viewings, I came to also really dig the way this movie handles the issues of the war. To over-generalize, I think I expect certain ugliness and despair to be explored in more modern war films, but that older movies will gloss over some of that darkness with feel good glory and shiny patriotism. But I found that in this movie, the manly flyboys do talk about and struggle with the death and the despair they face - Robert Wagner's character, who's young and ballsy and cute, even cries. But these guys deal with the heavy stuff in a manly, nonchalant, unindulgent fashion. And you know Robert Mitchum wouldn't have it any other way.

My heart was broken the first time I saw the end of this movie. I was unwilling to believe it. The second time around I was hoping it would go down differently - it didn't. But I have come to appreciate the ending. I want to finish this entry with a witty conclusion about whether or not one can succeed as both a lover and a fighter, but I don't want to give anything away. Perhaps I can just say that it's not always easy to be a hero. Even for my boyfriend Robert Mitchum.