REVIEW: ‘Masters Of The Air’ Shows Terror And Humanity At 25,000 Feet

Ever since capturing the bracing, guttural horror of World War II in Saving Private Ryan, Tom Hanks and Steven Spielberg have remained committed to attaining the same scope and scale on the small screen. The duo executive-producers of Band of Brothers and The Pacific two of HBO’s most memorable miniseries. Both timeless in their vision of war’s horror and camaraderie. Their newest undertaking with Gary Goetzman, Masters of the Air, marks a departure from not only HBO but the bullet-ridden battlefields of Europe.

The limited series tells the story of the 100^th Bomb Group (grimly dubbed “The Bloody Hundredth”) as they conduct death-defying raids over Nazi Germany. While the series’ jump from HBO to AppleTV+ was a slight cause for concern in eager viewers, Masters of the Air triumphantly takes to the skies, defying all odds and valiantly standing toe-to-toe with its lofty predecessors.

Yet, the triumph of Masters of the Air lies not only in how it breathtakingly depicts terror at 25,000 ft but the honour and humanity in this air force crew as well. Impressively, the limited series’ best moments take place in between the carnage, in the somber conversations and jabbing banter between the airmen. Whether it be a stern mission briefing or a late, drunken night in the mess hall, Masters of the Air makes us fall for each character—rendering the skirmishes that much more haunting and heartbreaking in their enormity.

Barry Keoghan’s turn as Lt. Curtis Biddick especially shines in the more talky segments, lending an unfurled edge to the show’s clean-cut array of characters. While imbuing the show with a great sense of levity, he also prepares us for tragedy, with each smirk giving way to a painfully solemn gaze.

Callum Turner holds his own as Major John Egan, while Austin Butler’s take on the suave, toothpick-sporting Major Gale Cleven oozes a brand of charisma that makes it all too easy to hang on each word. Though they embody the typical, picturesque mid-century American, they carry with them an immense sadness that looms over each valiant act, separating them from the other dapper heroes that litter the genre. But it’s Anthony Boyle as the perpetually airsick Major Harry Crosby who steals our hearts. At once bumbling and wholly relatable, it’s not hard to see ourselves in him as he finds himself caught between the call of duty and the call of his heart.

Though his narration—which is meant to underline each sacrifice as an important piece in the war effort—is a tad overplayed, commenting on areas the series already dramatizes so well. It’s an unnecessary addition that detracts more than anything. Nonetheless, Masters of the Air’s commitment to both daunting spectacle and deeply human characters is key to its staying power, shedding an all-important light on the toll this conflict took on each soldier, regardless of whether they lived to see its end.

When the series does throw us into the sky, especially in its early batch of episodes carefully directed by Cary Joji Fukunaga, it doesn’t disappoint. Masters of the Air does a stellar job of getting viewers painfully familiar with each nook, crevice, and turret pod of the B-17s Flying Fortress, attuning us to the tin can of death these men will soon call their home and ultimate grave.

Its visceral blend of bloodshed is both horrifying and engrossing, awing us in one breath while weighing on us the next, particularly in a stunning sequence where debris seemingly begins to float in a flak-ridden sky, caught in time as bombers zip past them. There’s a solemn, rhythmic majesty the cinematography and editing tap into that renders Masters of the Air an emotionally arresting experience at each turn. Blake Neely’s triumphant, goosebump-inducing score only serves to heighten the effect.

Masters of the Air maintains its momentum even when it grounds its turnstile cast of characters in the latter half, taking us through romantic escapades in London and a dreary POW camp in the heart of Germany. It’s here where the miniseries begins to confront its characters with not only the slogging agony of war but the racial inequity of the nation they are dying to protect.

The entry of the Tuskegee Airmen—Alexander Jefferson (Branden Cook), Richard Macon (Josiah Cross), and Robert H. Daniels (Ncuti Gatwa)—plays a vital role in portraying this, capturing men who both dodge fire from enemy aircraft and hateful stares from their fellow countrymen. These are men who understand they are not only battling Nazi tyranny but fighting for the chance to make it home and help America become the nation it proclaims itself to be.

While Masters of the Air doesn’t go all in on those themes—focused more on the relationships of its characters to each other than their country—it’s a series that remains cognizant of America’s troubled history, giving its due to the varied men and women who gave everything to protect it. The tender, pensive touch Director Dee Rees brings to these later episodes is especially crucial in painting this portrait, beautifully conveying how one might master the air but not the toll it takes on the soul. It’s this examination that casts Masters of the Air as one of the great entries into the WWII canon.

Though Masters of the Air can be a tad too sentimental in its brotherhood, it survives as an honest, heartfelt document of war—its gravity, brutality, and ultimate humanity on full display. It’s a wonderous successor to HBO’s canonical miniseries, glorifying the sacrifice of the 100^th Bomb Group but never the war they found themselves in.

Masters of the Air premieres January 26, exclusively on Apple TV+