Vénus en uniforme

Jane Wyman was one of the cutest actresses ever to grace the silver screen and she proves here that she still had IT in abundance in this anachronistic 1951 romp in which she portrays a stewardess adapting to the heady life and unique romantic opportunities that the flight attendant profession once represented for smart career-minded women a long, long time ago. American Airlines would have paid a hefty product placement fee in 2005 for all the great promotion they receive in this film, parts of which were shot aboard a real DC-3 (The Spirit of Washington) as it cruises the skies. The sunny natural cabin lighting does not do Van Johnson any favors inasmuch as the nasty scar across his forehead which MGM's make-up people always managed to conceal so adroitly is prominent to the point of distraction. I found his sardonic graduate-level researcher character to be a bit of an imperious drip. Sullivan is rarely anything more than a plot device: he never seems to be seriously in the running for her hand while Pilot Howard Keel is at his handsomest and he and Miss Wyman seem to share a real chemistry, so I was kept pleasantly off-balance throughout. There are some exciting scenes of downtown Chicago from the air (look for the River winding along Wacker Drive past the Merchandise Mart) and they have a camera fixed beneath the DC-3's fuselage which provides some stunning footage of actual landings. The uniforms are fun, and it effectively shows us the world of air travel that existed just prior to the dawn of the jet age. It's a memorable little trip for commercial aviation buffs, made only five months before Wyman's ex went back to the altar with Nancy Davis and turned her into the second Mrs. Ronald Reagan.

Jane Wyman is a fledgling airline stewardess -- note the tie-in to American Airlines. She is bright, creative, a bit ditzy, and has three beaux, all named Mike: Van Johnson, Howard Keel and Barry Sullivan.

We're definitely entering the cultural 1950s, with Miss Wyman's character considered an oddball, with a view to marriage, and "no ambition to be the oldest stewardess in the business." Careers for women are temporary matters, and her choices are good providers -- an airline pilot and a successful ad executive -- and an idealistic teacher. This was an era far different from ours, when people dressed well to travel on airplanes, and smoked cigarettes while doing so. Airlines were looked on as travel, instead of our modern idea of transportation, when every passenger, from infant to wheelchair-bound nonagenarian is looked on as a potential bomber (given how people dress these days). Stewardesses were the smiling faces of the airlines, sexy drink servers who could deal with emergencies. And that is what this movie offers.

Miss Wyman offers an amusing shadow of her 'ditz' personna from her bleached-blonde-comedienne phase from the early 1940s. Charles Walters demonstrates that his excellence as a director of musical drama does not carry over particularly well into comedy.

Jane Wyman is perky, freshly-scrubbed and impertinent (as usual) playing an stewardess-trainee with American Airlines. She clashes lightly with pilot Howard Keel and passenger Van Johnson up in the air before having a run-in with Barry Sullivan on the ground. All three men--each named Mike--quickly come around with romantic notions--this is the kind of '50s comedy where men can't wait to get hitched--but Wyman is so busy hatching ideas and shooting from the hip that she barely notices all their attention. What begins as a smartly-written and executed glimpse at a stewardess's life in the sky is soon hustled right into romantic comedy territory. The question is obvious: which Mike will our heroine choose? However, I didn't find any of these potential suitors capable of handling Wyman, who is continually mouthing off in a wide-eyed, nonchalantly feminine way. This puff-piece, directed with snap but no flair by Charles Walters, is nearly impossible to critique seriously; if pressed, I would have to say the fistfight in the photographer's apartment wouldn't really be worthy of front page news in the paper (did the fight last long enough for the reporters and shutterbugs to show up?). Walters captures first-day-on-the-job jitters exceptionally well, but Sidney Sheldon's screenplay goes soft too fast. The final line between the men is amusing, but what we don't get see at the fade-out is a career girl who feels alive up in the air quickly tied down in suburbia with kids tugging at her apron. **1/2 from ****

Honestly, there was no way I couldn't like this movie. As soon as I started watching it, I was hooked. Naturally, it was cheesy and unrealistic (IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE MOVIE AND YOU DON'T WANT TO KNOW WHICH MIKE SHE PICKS, DON'T READ ON!). Look, I wasn't expecting a surprise ending. Van Johnson was the first of the "Mikes" in the credits, so naturally my money was on him. I was just hoping for a better explanation of why he got the girl. He didn't do anything the other two Mikes didn't do. Through out the entire movie, Jane Wyman never even showed any favoritism toward him. I hate to say it, but this was an obvious case of "the biggest star" gets the girl. But don't get me wrong. I just think that with a little bit of better writing, they could have pulled it off better. But don't think this movie wasn't worth watching. I loved it!

Personally, I would have picked Howard Keel =P

So which one of the three Mikes will new stewardess Marcy end up with as she tries to learn the ropes of feeding people 30,000 feet in the air.

It's a romantic comedy that's really a Wyman showcase. She's coming off her Oscar-winning Johnny Belinda so her screen time is not really surprising. Her airline stewardess Marcy doesn't have to do much except be charming, which she does in subdued fashion. Since none of the four leads-- Wyman, Johnson, Keel, and Sullivan-- are comedic actors, it's the humorous situations that provide the fun.

As a result, the first part is best (at least in my view) where Marcy has to break-in as a new air hostess. Naturally, it takes a bit of doing like remembering to get the food aboard, so there are plenty of chuckles as she fumbles around. Almost all the scenes in this part focus on air travel; thus we get a good view of American Airlines passenger planes, circa 1950, both inside and out. The second part, however, gets her involved with each of the three Mikes, her air travel left mostly behind. Here, unfortunately, we get more blandly romantic overtures than chuckles.

Of the three Mikes, Johnson is best equipped for comedy, while I expected Keel's baritone to break into song any moment. For me, seeing Sullivan as something other than a gangster took some getting used to. Looks like MGM was more interested in screening stars than undergirding comedy, which may be why the film remains pretty obscure. Too bad the script didn't engage the sprightly girls more than they did, especially Donnell and Kirk, who could have added comedic spirit. Then too, I'm surprised MGM, the king of Technicolor, filmed in b&w, not the usual format for their top stars of the time. Frankly, I suspect there's an interesting backstory to this odd production.

Anyway, the 90-minutes is mainly for fans of Wyman and her cute nose.