Netflix Monday: Disney's 'The Rocketeer'

Part of the reason why I liked Tomorrowland — and yes, I liked Tomorrowland — was unabashed desire to create whimsy. So often today movies go for brooding, menacing looks at violence, inner struggles and lost determination. While I can enjoy those too in the right context, sometimes it’s just fun to get engulfed in a happy-go-lucky story. Every now and then, you simply want to find a story with just enough heart and rousing action to make you forget about the world and its problems.

The Rocketeer isn’t quite all that, but in many ways it succeeds on the same level. Joe Johnston’s sophomore feature, an adaptation of the Dave Stevens graphic novel of the same name, isn’t without snags and faults. Its reverence to its 1938 backdrop and the traditional filmmaking style of its time is mostly charming, but its benevolence can also grow cumbersome solely in how readily it aims for their clichés and narrative shortcomings. Also, Johnston’s inexperience in the director’s chair can also be apparent based on some lackluster staging. Plus, it also doesn’t help that future Oscar winner Jennifer Connelly appears as indifferent with her Jenny as possible, struggling to make her feel authentic or charismatic in any way.

But these are often overshadowed by just how competently inspired this project seems through-and-through. Even with the mixed filmography he created after this Disney project, Johnston always appears most comfortable under the sentimental gaze of period actioners and dramas. Between this, and the eventual October Sky and Captain America: The First Avenger, the director so clearly admires the rituals of filmmaking past, yet he still finds engaging and lovable ways to make these qualities sing without having them overpower the story at hand and therefore produces enjoyably old-fashioned entertainment all ages can enjoy.

In short, he feels at home making movies like this, and it shows. Beyond his earnest affections, the set pieces here are richly designed, the action is well-paced, the tone is appropriately balanced between playful and dour — this to showcase the grave threat of Nazi Germany plaguing American fears during this time period, and this even comes squarely into the narrative — and the film’s sense of humor is likably cheesy. Normally, the almost groan-inducing one-liners and overly spunky or wisecracking attitudes of all the characters would feel unbearably forced and overcooked. But much like The Hudsucker Proxy or, more appropriately, Dick Tracy from this decade, The Rocketeer’s dated comedic sensibilities only add to the enchantment.

Despite its nostalgic filmmaking traits, the special effects here are pretty impressive for its 1991 release. While clearly outdated based on what’s been brought to the screen today, the CG and green screen hold up mostly well, all things considered, and Johnson’s time with Industrial Light & Magic had a stern influence. Even when they appear old-fashioned, they unintentionally add to the nostalgic allure of this picture.

While sometimes equally as captivating, the cast in general is something of a mixed bag. As the titular Rocketeer and the man behind it, Cliff, Billy Campbell gives just the right aw-shucks wonder to make his fairly shallow character sing. The one primary disappointment with him, however, is how the story never truly sees him grow into the Rocketeer. Although each big action moment finds him becoming more proficient with the equipment, he basically adopts the technology and persona almost instantaneously. And this is a shame, for if he grew as a person with his man-made powers — much like Tony Stark did with Iron Man in that first film — then Cliff’s journey would be even more satisfying. Despite this, however, his high-flying work nicely both in terms of spectacle and character.

The real scene-stealer, however, is Terry O’Quinn as Howard Hughes. His performance thankfully never becomes just an impression and it’s one sadly only seldom seen throughout. Also unfortunately short-changed is the always-welcome Jon Polito, whose penny-pusher Bigelow is perfectly balanced between scumbag and lovably low-level businessman. Timothy Dalton too gets fine time to parade his thespian skills as the mischievous Hollywood superstar Neville Sinclair. As seen in this and Hot Fuzz, the former 007 clearly holds a knack and flair for these dastardly characters, and while he’s to be remembered for his hero type, he’s seem much more fun as a baddie. Hopefully he gets more of these kind of roles in his future.

Alan Arkin gets some nice moments as Cliff’s mentor Peevy, but his inconsistent accent and typically subdued persona doesn’t make him appear a right fit for the part. Paul Sorvino also can be a little too insubstantial in his delivery for Eddie Valentine, but often his by-the-books performance fits the procedural character he embodies. Also, while constantly hidden by some nice make-up work, Tiny Ron Taylor plays up the menacing yet darkly cheeky Lothar with stride in manners all-too-many actors would either ham up or play too straight. It’s an underused performance to be sure, and he easily could have been the film’s main antagonist convincingly.

Regardless of this and its other missed opportunities and shortcomings, The Rocketeer is a clever, handsomely made and ever sweet-natured blast from the past — no pun intended — which sadly never quite found the audience it should. Its free-for-all gunplay, Nazi bad guys, occasionally violent murders and genuinely threatening henchmen likely make this one of Disney’s most adult live-action films even today, but despite this there’s a breezy, clever family adventure here that’s worth exploring. Particularly if your loved ones decided to not take my word on Tomorrowland.