The producers must have rubbed their hands with glee at the prospect of this cinematic spectacle: a glistening armada of B-17 “Flying Fortress” bombers cruising in formation across the Channel to pulverise Hitler’s war machine and teach “Ay-dolf” a lesson he’ll never forget.
Led by the resplendent, implacable and impossibly attractive figure of Austin Butler behind the controls, it follows an ensemble cast of heroes including the equally well-chiselled Callum Turner, new Doctor Who lead Ncuti Gatwa and reliable loose cannon of the moment Barry Keoghan.
Based on the 2007 book by Donald L Miller, the seven-word pitch would have been “Band of Brothers takes to the skies”, as the same team is behind this nine-parter and it's equally glossy despite the blood and guts.
We begin in a bar in the US where Buck (Butler), Bucky (Turner) and their soon to be brothers in the air are saying farewell to wives and girlfriends before flying to their bombing base in East Anglia (you won’t see many strong female characters from now on as dropping bombs did tend to be men’s business). And don’t worry, they’re not all confusingly called Bucky/Buck/Bucko either.
There’s also an ominous sign once the men arrive in Norfolk to join the 100th Bomb Group, aka the “Bloody Hundredth” due to the heavy losses they endured, as the camera lingers over the on-base chapel and the chaplain solemnly introduces himself. Not all of these men will make it out alive.
While it does focus on the toll that the death and destruction of war wreaks on these people, it’s the action and heroics that happen thousands of feet above ground where this series really soars.
A “first mission” formation of dozens of B-17s are high above the Channel, pilots Buck and Bucky the vision of indomitable confidence, while air-sick navigator Harry Crosby (Anthony Boyle, the series narrator) is vomiting into a paper bag… and then the Nazi anti-aircraft flak starts hitting.
The aerial cinematography is kinetic, full-bore, metal-flailingly spectacular stuff, as the Flying Fortresses head closer to their target and swarms of German fighter planes swoop down on them.
Bullets fly with nerve-shredding intensity, bombers burn, men’s faces are shockingly blown off, while others manage to bail out in parachutes. It’s not quite the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan good (Spielberg and Hanks are producers on this), but it’s fairly close.
The stuff in the skies is terrific, but watching bloody bombing mission after bloody bombing mission would be repetitive, so there’s also drunken hijinks back at base, guilt-ridden romance and, of course, what happens to the men who bailed out over enemy territory. These bits are somewhat predictable.
Butler, Turner, Keoghan and the rest are all excellent. However, it would be more satisfying if they had been given more than two dimensions of a character to play.
Buck is smoulderingly aloof, while giving off a subtle hint he’s not totally sure about this whole war thing. Bucky is gung-ho and temperamental. Keoghan's Curtis Biddick is simply wild. Surely these men (because they were real, actual wartime heroes) had more sides to them.
Small gripes aside, this is still a highly watchable tribute to a group of airmen who, every time they stepped into a plane, knew they had one foot at death’s door. All praise to them.
