Flying High (1929): A Glimpse into the Wild Blue Yonder (Sort Of)

Look, if you're not already deep into silent-era films or early talkies, Flying High (1929) isn't going to be your next casual Friday night pick. But for those who love digging into aviation history on screen, or just want to see what 'exciting' meant almost a hundred years ago, there's some peculiar charm here. Anyone expecting fast-paced action or crisp dialogue will probably be bored pretty quick. Consider it a time capsule, really. 🕰️

The film throws us into a world of open cockpits and daring maneuvers, or at least the *idea* of them. Our hero, played by Robert Livingston, is this earnest young aviator, always looking skyward. You can tell he’s supposed to be the optimistic type, but he spends a lot of time just looking thoughtful, maybe a little too thoughtful.

Dorothy Gulliver, as the love interest, has this perpetually worried look. Even when things are going perfectly fine, her brow is just a little furrowed. It’s like her default setting is 'mildly concerned.'

Walter Brennan pops up in a small role, and even then, he’s got that distinctive gravelly voice starting to form. It's just a few lines, but you absolutely notice him, even amongst the, well, less memorable performances. It's a nice little "hey, it's him!" moment. 👋

The flying sequences are… a product of their time. There’s a scene where a biplane does a loop-the-loop, and you can almost feel the editor trying to make the most of about three different camera angles. It feels very much like they just filmed what they could and hoped for the best.

One particular shot of a plane taking off, I swear it’s the exact same footage used again for a landing, just reversed. You see the same dust cloud kick up in the exact same way. Subtle, it is not.

The pacing feels a bit off, like a plane trying to find its altitude. Some scenes linger a little too long, especially the dramatic stares between characters. Then, all of a sudden, we're on to the next plot point without much transition.

There's a whole subplot about a rival pilot, a bit of a scoundrel, trying to sabotage our hero. It's pretty standard stuff, but the way he twirls his mustache is just *chef's kiss* for the era. You know exactly what kind of guy he is.

The dialogue, being an early talkie, sometimes feels like it’s fighting the microphone. Lines are delivered a little too slowly, a little too carefully. You can hear the actors _projecting_, almost as if they aren't quite sure the sound equipment will pick them up otherwise.

The crowd scenes during the big air race have this oddly empty feeling, like half the extras wandered off for a snack. It’s supposed to be a huge, thrilling event, but it mostly looks like a polite gathering.

The dramatic climax, involving a mid-air emergency (of course), feels a bit rushed. One minute the plane is in trouble, the next, everything's fine, and the hero's landed it perfectly. It's almost too neat, considering the earlier build-up of danger. You can almost feel the movie trying to convince you this moment matters more than it actually delivers.

Overall, Flying High is less about high-octane thrills and more about the simple wonder of early flight, seen through a very early cinematic lens. It's a gentle, if sometimes clunky, reminder of how far both aviation and filmmaking have come. Not a masterpiece, but a fascinating peek. ✈️

Didja notice?

• That one background extra who just keeps staring directly into the camera? For like, five whole seconds. 👀
• The villain's dramatic wink after he thinks his plan worked. So understated.
• The sudden, almost jarring cut to a title card explaining what just happened, even though it was an early talkie. They couldn't quite let go of the silent film habits.
• The musical score sometimes just kinda *stops* abruptly. Like the conductor took a coffee break.
• How clean everyone’s uniforms stay, even after a supposed harrowing flight or a dusty crash landing. Spotless.