ACES HIGH revisits the ‘gallantry’ and waste of The Great War (so dubbed until the much greater Sequel blew in 21 years later), exemplified by the ‘Knights of the Air’, the one aspect of that idiotic slaughter-fest that could pretend Science Shall Not Vanquish Tradition—at least until you burned to death in a writhing plummet to earth. Now, be a good chap and do make sure that the King/Kaiser/Czar/Emperor/President hears the echo of pride in your scream.

In autumn 1916, British fighter ace ‘Maj. John Gresham’ (Malcolm McDowell) makes a home front visit to Eton College, where his talk inspires graduating friend ‘Stephen Croft’ (Peter Firth) to enlist in the Royal Flying Corps, serve King & Country and teach the Hun some manners. A year later, starry-eyed Croft, now a lieutenant, joins Gresham’s squadron in France. Among the men (most barely more than boys) are jaded ‘Lt. Crawford’ (Simon Ward), his nerves brittle to breaking, and older, steady and reassuring ‘Captain Sinclair’ (Christopher Plummer) nicknamed ‘Uncle’. Croft’s initiation to the actual combat (and ‘manhood’ with a French prostitute) is quick; the turnover for pilot survival is about two weeks. Pretty much a one-way ticket.

R.C. Sherriff’s 1928 play “Journey’s End” was set in the trenches with the infantry: this adaptation by prodigious playwright Howard Barker moved the guns & guts from the muddy carnage of No Man’s Land to the glory-beckoning skies above it and Sherriff’s cannon fodder Cockney’s to the well-elucidating toffs of the Royal Flying Corps. Barker also employed material from “Sagittarius Rising”, a WW1 memoir from British ace Cecil Lewis, later a founder of the BBC.  Jack Gold (The Bofors Gun, The National Health) directed on a budget of £1,250,000, roughly £8,184,050 in 2024.

There are prestige cameos from John Gielgud (Eton headmaster extolling nobility from a comfortably safe distance) and as a trio of jolly officers at headquarters (also tidily away from the messy fray) are Ray Milland, Trevor Howard and Richard Johnson. The acting all round is fine, with only Firth a weak link, not charismatic enough to generate much audience identification. Plummer, as usual, is excellent, though at 46 he’s a good two decades older than his character would have been in real life. Other than different faces in the uniforms, the material offers little new to what had been done in earlier, bigger, more exciting and involving WW1 air sagas (or their ground-pounder equivalents), all the way back to the Silent Era. Even the dogfights feel lackluster. Fanciers of antique flying machines may enjoy picking over the planes chosen for the production. The most telling elements are scenes of the German anti-aircraft artillery blasting away from below (the sound effects crew on target) and one truly bracing bit with a pilot, bailed out of his plane, sans parachute (they were not issued), hurtling to the ground—while on fire.

Compact, well-intended picture tries but doesn’t ignite sufficiently to make more than a polite, dutiful impression. Those keen for the subject are advised to aim for Wings, Hell’s Angels, The Dawn Patrol or The Blue Max. In a pinch, Captain Eddie or Darling Lili. If desperate, Lafayette Escadrille, Von Richthofen and Brown or last-ditch, Flyboys.

Cogerson gives its US gross at $1,400,000. placing 132nd among the films from 1976–although the States release didn’t come until the end of 1977. Bloody hell, old man! Accurately calculating box office figures isn’t as hazardous as instantly deciding just how long of a burst one ought loose at a Boche Fokker E-111 closing at 500 yards, but the frustration element for us terra firma volunteers can often provoke the sort of fatalistic attitude shared by yore’s countless outnumbered. 114 minutes.