The Sound Barrier

British aviation enthusiasts seek to break the sound barrier by dangerously pushing their jets beyond their limits in this solidly crafted drama starring Ralph Richardson. The film has copped a lot of flak over the years for its historical inaccuracies (the Americans were actually the first to break the sound barrier with very different techniques), however, 'The Sound Barrier' works well as a character drama as long as one takes all the pseudoscience on hand with a pinch of salt. The movie is rather slow to warm up, focusing on a formulaic courtship between Richardson's daughter and an up and coming pilot, however, as soon as Richardson enters the scene, it becomes an experience that rarely lets up. It is quite a sight to see Richardson's boyish enthusiasm for the task at hand, waxing poetic about a "whole new world ... in the grasp of man", demonstrating how aerial flight works during dinner and proclaiming that "it's just got to be done". His character also comes with shades of ambiguity; is he at all guilt-ridden over the deaths of those trying to complete the quest or does he see the deaths as acceptable in the name of human progress? Richardson does very well adding such shades to his character and while none of the supporting players come close to equaling him, he is enough alone to carry the film, or at least when on-screen. The film is also blessed by some great spinning shots within mysterious clouds and as one might expect from a film with such a title, the Oscar winning sound mixing here is highly effective.

This is an outstanding film about the human cost of progress and obsession. Richardson is great as the aviation mogul willing to pay the necessary price for reaching new realms and new worlds. Historically and technically, the film is so out in left field as to be almost laughable (the plot point about control reversal is apparently the result of a writer hearing a valid aeronautical term and misunderstanding it completely) but in the end, the issues raised and the fine performances make Sound Barrier a winner. The aerial photography is outstanding, and there is one beautifully composed shot from below the nose of the Comet airliner that perfectly emphasizes the sleek lines of that most beautiful jet.

This mid-period David Lean picture is one of his most unusual – a drama woven out of a story of scientific exploration. Not an easy kind of picture to make, but one held together by Lean's refined direction, a great cast and a surprisingly good script by Terence Rattigan.

Although Lean was to make two small-scale pictures between this and Bridge on the River Kwai, this is perhaps more than any other a transition film between his early intimate dramas and the later massive epics he is now best known for. From the start Lean had always tried to photograph the psychological states of his characters, but The Sound Barrier is the first time he tells a bigger story through the personal experiences of individuals. This is the formula that has made Kwai and Lawrence of Arabia so popular and enduring. Like those later pictures, in the Sound Barrier the narrative switches to carry on the story through the eyes of other characters.

A story like this, concerning test pilots, engineering and scientific breakthroughs, will only work if there is a strong drama underlying it – otherwise it's only going to be of interest to techies. Lean seems totally aware of this and emphasises the human story behind the science. He directs with his editor's eye, composing action sequences with series of still shots, then throwing in the occasional sharp camera move to punctuate an emotional moment. He is moving away a little from the rather obvious expressionistic techniques of his earliest films towards a more straightforward yet effective style.

By the early 50s the golden age of British film was over, but there was still a good crop of acting talent on offer, and there are plenty of names to mention in The Sound Barrier. Ralph Richardson plays (as he often did) the overbearing father-in-law, and lends the film a touch of class. Ann Todd, who was Lean's wife and not an exceptional actress, here gives what is probably her best performance – she has the most difficult part in terms of emoting, but she carries it off brilliantly. This is also a great before-they-were-famous film, featuring a young Denholm Elliott (best known as Marcus Brody from the Indiana Jones films) and Leslie Phillips in his pre-Ding Dong days. The real acting treat here though is the rarely-seen John Justin, who failed to achieve stardom not through lack of talent, but through lack of interest on his part. His poignant final scene is one of the strongest in the whole picture.

Of course, it's not just the plot of The Sound Barrier that is a work of fiction – the science is complete nonsense as well, so don't go thinking that pilots really reverse their controls to get through the sound barrier. In many ways, this film reminds me of Dive Bomber, made ten years earlier with Errol Flynn and Fred MacMurray. That's also a test pilot drama, with a fair few plot similarities. One major difference though is that whereas Dive Bomber deliberately and bluntly disposes of any romantic angle, writing the female characters out of the story halfway through, in The Sound Barrier it is the pressures on the wives and sisters that is pushed to the fore. Ultimately, it is the way The Sound Barrier deals with loss and guilt that make it a strong and satisfying film.

A young RAF pilot test's his father-in-law's prototype supersonic aircraft to the limit, at a time of intense development activity in the field of aviation, just as commercial jet airliners are about to come into service.

This is one of David Lean's less well-known films, in which some of the development milestones and incidents in contemporary UK aviation were put into a dramatic context. It should be mentioned that the aero industry was probably the UK's largest single industry by the end of WWII; it is thought that approximately 25% of the entire UK economy was devoted to aircraft manufacturing and allied industries; for four long years air power had been Britain's main means of striking back at Germany. Although activities were somewhat reduced in peacetime, the UK lead the way in several key aviation fields in the late 1940s and early 1950s; there was a new Cold War to be fought.

Now, lot of reviews here assume that the events portrayed were completely fictional (a la U571); whilst no film is beyond reproach in this respect in point of fact in this case nothing could be further from the truth; this film used no fewer than eight of the UK's most experienced test pilots as consultants. One of the eight, John Derry, reached supersonic speeds on 9th september 1948, whilst in a shallow dive in the third DH108 prototype.

The phenomenon of 'control reversal' at transonic speeds can and does occur with some wing designs; essentially at very high speeds the angle of attack of the wing is dramatically altered (because the control surface loads twist the wing essentially) and thus the intended effect of the controls can be reversed. This phenomenon is known to have afflicted aircraft such as early marks of spitfire, and this could limit the safe speed in a dive until a (torsionally stiffer) revised wing was introduced. It is just one of the many things that can occur in or near the transonic regime, and was probably chosen for the film because it is both simple and dramatic, and by then fairly well-known.

Flying military jet aircraft at that time was incredibly dangerous even without being shot at; peacetime training accidents were numerous. On some types an aircraft would be lost for every 1000 hours flying time and in a little under half of those losses the pilot was killed too. Test pilots had it worse than that; one of the eight test pilots who was consultant on this film was credited posthumously; he passed away between when the film was shot and released. Indeed the film refers to the loss of Geoffrey de Havilland (which in reality occured in 1946) again in a DH108 prototype. It is sobering to note that there are no surviving DH108 prototypes because they were all lost in (fatal) crashes.

In this film the human drama is played well enough with fine ating and good production values, but all this definitely takes second place to the aircraft and the flying. We see (apparently) a wartime spitfire in a high speed dive, Supermarine Attacker WA485, De Havilland Comet G-ALYR, a De Havilland Vampire and a Supermarine Swift.

In one magical sequence they have breakfast in the UK, fly to Cairo for lunch whilst delivering an aircraft, and then cadge a ride home on a Comet undergoing evaluation testing for BOAC. All at high altitude, high speed, jet-smooth, way above the clouds; something airline passengers of the time could only imagine until the Comet entered service during 1952.

Comet G-ALYR (one of the first batch of production Comet Mk 1 aircraft) was badly damaged in a taxi-ing accident a year or so after this film was made. Nonetheless it had already flown about 750 times and the fuselage was eventually used for water-tank fatigue testing, the lessons of which were learned from world-wide and are still relevant to this day.

This film isn't technically perfect but it is by no means as flawed as others would have you believe. It is stronger as a film about flying than a drama, but it is by no means bad in either respect. It gets a solid 8/10 from me.

By many standards, David Lean's production of the film he directed in 1952, "The Sound Barrier" is both unusual and I suggest rewarding. The screenplay by Terence Rattigan I found to be riveting throughout. This I judge stems from the fact that its subject is men of vision, and what they do to about their greed for something unnameable, necessary and sometimes deadly. The author in the film is at pains not to paint such men as glory hunters, nor seekers after excitement alone; in one scene, the central character talks about the fliers of the past, and then suggests the men of the future will need vision even more than flying skills to conquer what awaits us--and the answer to what that is is given as "the stars"--called the final frontier in this film in all but name. There are three fliers we meet in the film at a fictitious industrial empire called Ridgefield. The boss's son who hasn't got what a flier needs, Tony, who marries his daughter and reaches his limit because he lacks the necessary genius, and Philip, who has "the right stuff". What I find extraordinary about this very well-directed cinematic tale is that it is always about the people and the joy and danger of flight at the same time, without the focus ever losing sight of the people. The music for this film was supplied by Malcolm Arnold, and it is extraordinary almost everywhere but I find never intrusive. One sequence involves one of the three pilots taking his new wife for a swift flight to Cairo from England; the scene accomplishes many things at once. She learns because of her journey, what some men see in the serenity of the sky, and even its danger; it introduces us to the third pilot and his wife; and we are given a sense of the camaraderie of the men who flew in those days; another such moment occurs when the French ace Geoffrey de Havilland is killed trying to break the sound barrier ahead of all others. Jack Hildyard and several others supplied the cinematography and aerial scenes; Elizabeth Hemminges did a fine subdued job on the costumes; Vincent Korda is credited with the Art Department's superb work while Muir Matheson is acknowledged as music director. Among the smallish cast, the pilots are all beautifully played. bright Nigel Patrick is likable ace Tony, young Denholm Elliot stands out as the boss's son, and John Justin is just right as the third of the trio, Philip. Joseph Tomelty is admirable as Will Sparks, the designer tormented by his own part in causing test pilots to risk their lives; Ann Todd is good as the tormented Susan, wife to Tony and daughter of the boss of Ridgefield. Dinah Sheridan is also lovely as Philip's brave wife; but it is Ralph Richardson's powerful realization of John Ridgefield, former pilot, towering presence and inspiring and dangerous leader of men who along with Justin gives the film its unusual dimension of mind and purpose. One may quarrel with the motivations attributed to Richardson in the last scenes; but he has been so alone in his vision and at such a cost, he may be forgiven for asking at last to be understood. The ending I find to be most satisfying, the film's climax tremendously moving. This is a great film, which has never been appreciated as it should have been. It is B/W film-making at its dramatic best for my money. Its science may not be perfect, but its depiction of human merit and what happens when that quality is lacking in a man is powerful indeed. Not to be missed.