I saw the new Hollywood film Red Tails earlier this week. I really wish I hadn’t. It’s a dreadful, repugnant, insultingly, appallingly bad film. I was insulted–I, the middle class white guy–sitting in the theater. Please, for the love of anything and everything holy, someone keep George Lucas from making any more movies. Star Wars Episodes 1-3; Indiana Jones and the Crystal Skull; and now Red Tails. George, you may have made some of the seminal movies of the ’80s. But it ain’t the ’80s no more.
Red Tails is supposed to tell the stories of the 332nd Fighter Group, the first combat group of African-American fighter pilots in World War II. It’s an inspiring, worthy story and I’m more than a little surprised there have been so few films made about them. If for no other reason than greater awareness and a damn good story I’d suggest more movies get made. But for the next couple, let’s concentrate on making them good movies, okay?
Here’s why this specific film sucked giant hairy donkey dong.
- Horrible writing. I mean, really horrible writing. Even the stereotypical characters were flatter than necessary–it’s like every third line of dialogue was taken from a ’50s newsreel out of context and and tacked in. If you imagine characters on storyboards–the cocky pilot, the worrisome commander, the sagelike senior officer, the dirty German bad guy, etc.–and then think that maybe they lifted the dialogue from the pitch session instead of putting some effort into something realistic and not stilted, you might not be too far off.
- Crap word-building. We’re to assume the Tuskegee airmen are the best simply because they’re black. In other words, since the film opens with one of those disgustingly racist quotes about African-Americans being unsuitable for combat because they’re somehow less than white Americans, the film is going to refute that simply by example. I don’t make this example to suggest they weren’t talented pilots or as able as any other men on Earth–the combat record of the 332nd proves that argument false all by itself. They were damn fine soldiers and airmen. What I’m saying is that it would have been far better for the filmmakers to show how the Tuskegee pilots overcame institutional racism and other badness to still learn what they needed to know to survive and succeed in combat. Instead, Red Tails just says “assume it.”
- Crap Consistency. It’s damn hard to “assume it” about talent and skill when the characters are going around contradicting their own dialogue. One character will lecture another about the importance of discipline and doctrine in combat; and then in the next scene show those same characters ignoring that doctrine and discipline to succeed. If there were military advisors on this film I’m certain they threw up their hands at some point and said “Fine, we’re just going to stop going for any sense of realism at all. Sure, solid bullets make ships explode. Yeah, you just let pilots wander off with their planes in combat zones whenever they want…”
- Assume the Romance. There’s a romance subplot between David Oyelowo’s Lighting and Daniella Ruah’s Sofia. They go from the standard fumbling move meet-cute to becoming engaged to marry. Which is fine, except the whole relationship happens off-screen. We see him fumble an introduction when neither of them speak each other’s language. They kiss once or twice. And suddenly they’re engaged. It’s a great romantic subplot and the actors involved do a very good job, but the whole bloody thing happens off-screen. They love each other. No one knows why–least of all the audience.
- No elegance. At all. It’s a movie that feels like it was made by 12 year olds for 12 year olds. Almost all the characters are caricatures of themselves, even the Germans. The head bad guy growls racial slurs and — dum dum dum — has a huge facial scar, because Bad Guys Have Ugly Scars. The hick pilot has an accent, plays guitar and dispenses the down-homey-time wisdom. I’ll give the actor, Ne-Yo, his due–he did it well. But it’s like casting checked a box marked “Supporting Character, Hilljack, Musician, One Each.”
But this is a George Lucas movie. And although he only produced and financed, not directed, it’s not difficult at all to see his hand in the production. The special effects are, as one might expect, top-notch. But in a world that’s seen and embraced war filmmaking on a scale of Saving Private Ryan, The Thin Red Line, Band of Brothers and The Pacific, the realism in Red Tails is a joke. And the subject of this film is worth far more than a joke.







