Douglas Bader (1910-1982) was one of Britain's most popular heroes of WWII, a celebrated combat pilot and Flight Commander. His triumphs during the Battle of Britain proved significant in the Allied victory. In 1941, after he was taken prison in German-occupied France, Bader caused headaches for the enemy with repeated escape attempts, and he was eventually confined to Colditz Castle, a prisoner-of-war camp reserved for such trouble-cases. And did I mention that he did all these things without the use of his legs? On December 14, 1931, Douglas Bader had crashed his aeroplane while attempting low-altitude maneuvers, sustaining such injuries that doctors were forced to amputate both legs. The characteristically resilient pilot later understated the gravity of his disaster with this laconic note in his logbook: "Crashed slow-rolling near ground. Bad show." Following the success of Paul Brickhill's biography, British director Lewis Gilbert (most noted for later directing several James Bond films) brought Bader's story to life, an inspirational testament to a man for whom "impossible" was not a word.
The natural comparison for 'Reach for the Sky (1956)' is Wyler's 'The Best Years of Our Lives (1946),' which starred a real-life war veteran (Harold Russell) who had lost both arms in combat. There are biographical distinctions, of course – Bader lost his limbs in peace- time, and later fought while "disabled" – but the basic theme of overcoming one's handicaps through hope and determination holds firm. Kenneth More {whom I recently discovered in the gripping Titanic docu- drama 'A Night to Remember (1958)'} brings a likable cockiness and fierce determination to the leading role. Bader's dogged resolve at times seems terse and even stubborn; his notion of success appears to hinge upon rejecting the helping hands of friends and loved ones. In his attitudes, there is a certain conceitedness, perhaps a necessary attribute for a pilot who rose to the military rank of Group Captain. More's portrayal certainly imparts these elements of vanity, but one can't help but be inspired by a man whose never-say-die outlook knows no bounds.
Muriel Pavlow plays Bader's wife, Thelma, a delicate woman who seems unfairly neglected while her husband chases his ambitions. Though given substantially less screen-time, the film's most interesting female character, I thought, was Dorothy Alison's nurse, who tends Bader back to health following his accident. Her appearance is brief, but incredibly subtle: just watch the series of conflicting emotions flicker across her face as Bader departs, love and sadness and everything in between. I had expected the nurse to make an appearance later in the film, but she appears to have been shunned permanently from Bader's life. This ties in nicely with the leading character: after resolving himself to be entirely self-sufficient, he must reject the one woman on whom he once relied so heavily. In Wyler's film, Russell's character accepts that he'll never be entirely independent, and it's only fitting that he should marry a woman who'll always be there to offer a helping hand. Bader rejects this helping hand; he's not much of a husband, but he is one hell of a battler.
