William Wellman was born to direct 1927's Wings, winner of the first ever Oscar for Best Movie. Nicknamed "Wild Bill" due to his penchant for literally trading punches with actors (notably Spencer Tracy), off stage stunts, and wild parties, Wellman had joined the French Foreign Legion at the outbreak of WWI, flying in the Lafayette Escadrille. After the war, he continued his flying career as a barnstormer before turning his attention to film directing.

Indeed, the flying experience enabled Wellman to film landmark action flying sequences that continue to stand up today. Realizing that the bi-planes in Wings are not CGI-generated adds to the wonder of those action scenes--spinning tricks, near misses, dizzying drops, and spectacular crashes. Wellman seamlessly weaves archive war footage into these sequences, adding credibility and realism unheard of in movies of the period. It also had a huge budget of around two million dollars, making Wings a Titanic-sized blockbuster of the 1920s--quite a studio risk, given Wellman's spotty box office results.

Again history steps in and aids the film industry. Flying was popularized in 1927 with the historic Charles Lindbergh flight, and Lindbergh himself is quoted on the opening screen giving credit to the flying heroes of WWI that people never read about (comparisons to the patriotic fervor created after 9/11 and continual homage to firefighters and policemen).

Add to the mix the fine work of Clara Bow, who lights up the screen as Mary Preston, the girl next door that can't even get a decent kiss from Jack Powell (Charles "Buddy" Rogers) with direct references to shooting stars and an unrequited lip pucker. David Armstrong (Richard Arlen) gets a better smack on the lips from Jack in the now famous death scene cited in The Celluloid Closet as evidence of a hidden gay subtext.

They have a point. Jack talks the talk of a straight man--he supposedly lusts for a woman he can't have (one who belongs to David)--but he virtually ignores Mary, who throws out so many passes that Jack's indifference becomes comical. She really throws herself at Jack at Paris' decadent Folies-Bergère, but all he wants to do is follow the champagne bubbles. The only time Jack elicits deep emotion occurs at David's death scene and during his subsequent meeting with David's parents. Of course, viewers can see this as typical war buddy dramatics, but more could be intended. After their spirited love-hate boxing match, the pair are inseparable and overtly express their friendship

A gay sub-text is clearly indicated for the effeminate acting Herman Schwimpf character (played by Ed Brendel), used for comic relief throughout. A standard joke is a play on his German sounding name to which he flexes his biceps to reveal a waving American flag. He's also the one to get knocked down with a single punch and be assigned to non-combatant ground duty instead of playing war hero.

Also notable is a small cameo by Gary Cooper, but he lasts long enough to deliver the war philosophy that has kept many a soldier going over the years--the idea that luck plays no part, and it's fate that determines when your time is up. Of course, any flying ace that leaves his luck piece behind is doomed in the movies, as a way to cushion the blow for the audience. You can also count on the cinematographer to grant a close-up on that lucky charm.

Melodrama is what we expect from the silent era, and Wings delivers abundantly without going over the top. The plot has been copied so often that modern viewers will see it as dated and cliché--even Pearl Harbor rips off the idea of the flying ace buddies who are in love with the same girlfriend, so a fist fight brings them closer together but one must die by the final reel. I really hate to mention that embarrassing Michael Bay hack job in the same sentence as this 1927 classic, but the two stories only have the war backdrop and general plot in common. The difference lies in the details.

Clara Bow and Buddy Rogers develop their characters and bring far more life to the screen than anyone in the forgettable Bruckheimer-Bay rip-off WWII love story. I'll remember a fair number of scenes from Wings for years to come while Pearl Harbor's only lasting memories will consist of one well photographed bomb and a coke bottle--the incredible flight stunts and camerawork, Bow's screen charisma, and the classic death scene all stand out.

Now if only Paramount will preserve Wings on DVD format, more generations can recognize early movie wizardry--at least the ones open-minded enough to watch a silent film. If you're really fortunate (as I was this past weekend), you'll find a screening of a 35-mm print, accompanied by live organ music. That's the way all silents should be viewed! A pity so few opportunities remain.