“Masters of the Air,” a new Apple TV produced television series, tells the true stories of the crews of American airmen, particularly those of the “Bloody” 100th Bomb Group, as they carried out aerial bombing raids on Nazi Occupied Europe during the Second World War. Produced by Gary Goetzman, Tom Hanks, and Stephen Spielberg, the show is a continuation of two previous World War Two shows that Goetzman, Hanks, and Speilburg produced: Band of Brothers (2002) and The Pacific (2010), with the former focusing on infantrymen in Europe following D-Day and the latter focusing more broadly on Marines in the Pacific theater of the war. Each of these shows, in addition to being focused on the experience of American soldiers, share similar characteristics. First, they are exceptionally well crafted with intense attention to historical detail and accuracy, and with extremely high production value. “Masters” even ups the ante some with a reported budget of 250 million dollars for nine episodes. As the New York Times wrote in its review, “the first–and for many viewers, perhaps, sufficient observation to be made about “Masters” is that the money, more than ever, was right up there on the screen.” Interspersed with delving into the men’s lives in and around the base (and later in POW camps), the show miraculously recreates numerous massive aerial combat sequences involving hundreds of planes. Most impressively, these sequences rarely betray their unreality. They are not only stunning in their visual realism, but utterly visceral in their representation of what aerial combat felt like inside the aircraft. Perhaps the aspect of the show (and this is also true of the earlier World War Two shows from this production team) that I find most commendable is that they create combat sequences that are spectacular, without allowing them to become pure spectacle. It is impossible to walk away from this show without a renewed understanding of just how utterly horrible war can be. I, rather naively, never gave much thought to what happened inside the aircraft during these bombing raids and aerial battles. That has changed. The show does not shy away from graphically showing the horrific injuries and deaths that airmen met. As the show continues, the sickening rates of attrition take their toll and many characters beloved in early episodes are dead. Before raids in later episodes, it is almost possible to feel the fear of the men through the screen. They know the horror many of them will face and so do we.
Another characteristic of these shows, “Masters,” included, is that they center on the heroism of the American soldier. In “Masters of the Air,” there is a carefully crafted sense that each of the central characters (who are based on real airmen) is a “good man.” These men, though imperfect, care deeply for each other and look out for one another whenever they can. In battle, they conduct themselves competently and courageously. Never do we see them commit egregious moral errors. They also seem capable of tremendous restraint. In the final episode one of the central characters, Buck (Austin Butler), refrains from retaliating after a German child kills one of his fellow soldiers after they escape Nazi captivity. Instead, he yells at the child to run away. While it may be true that these men were, by and large, heroes who did extraordinary things when the moment in history made it necessary, it can seem at times that the show is afraid to depict anything that might call the morality or heroism of these men even slightly into question.
In watching the show over numerous evenings, I repeatedly found myself wondering why World War Two shows like this are perennially marketable and popular. One obvious answer is that World War Two was among the most consequential, cataclysmic wars ever fought and thus will inevitably be an object of fascination. However, it also strikes me that there is some part of the American psyche (and of my own psyche) that longs for a moment in time when the justice of war was evident, when through all the horror of combat, destruction, and death, there was an inarguable righteousness of cause. The show, as many before it have, makes painstakingly sure that we know how evil the Nazis are. One of the show’s most disturbing moments comes when some of the American POWs see a train pulling away from a station, with hundreds of arms, presumably of Jewish prisoners, reaching out of the railway cars desperately for help. The show does not need to tell you where that train is going. Of course, as a viewer, there is tremendous satisfaction in seeing the horrific evil of the Nazis defeated and in celebrating the heroism of the people who did so. 
There is a classic cliche moment in the final episode where the POWs raise an American flag over the newly liberated prison camp and everybody erupts in raucous applause. Perhaps it is moments like these that led the New York Times to gently accuse the show of, “trying to celebrate 1940s style patriotism one time too many.” However, seeing an American flag flying over a Nazi prison camp is something I can celebrate. Of course, even in the Second World War, the United States was far from a perfect example of wartime conduct (see Dresden, Tokyo, Hiroshima, etc.) and perhaps no combatant ever is. But it seems that many of our more recent wars, most notably Vietnam and Iraq, have lacked the clarity in objective, righteousness of cause, and crucially, victory, that World War Two had. It is perhaps for this reason that watching a film like American Sniper leaves me with far more ambiguous feelings, even though it is still seeking to depict a heroic American soldier. Chris Kyle (at least as he is depicted in the movie) might have been a good man and a great soldier, but questions about the justice, necessity, and outcome of the war he was fighting in are always in the back of my mind as I watch the film. While that may not make his character any less heroic, it still makes the viewing experience a far more complicated one. When I see the American flag on the poster for that film, it creates feelings of confusion and doubt. It’s a similar cliche use of the flag to the one in “Masters,” but in the context of a different time, a different war, and a different story, rousing even a momentary feeling that the flag represents righteousness and justice, at least for this viewer, is a far more difficult task.
By: Rod Cardamone
Link: https://tv.apple.com/us/show/masters-of-the-air/umc.cmc.7bxcni0vwgll9kmicq738k5q2
Works Cited
Hale , Mike. “‘Masters of the Air’ Review: Hanks and Spielburg, Back at War .” New York Times https://tv.apple.com/us/show/masters-of-the-air/umc.cmc.7bxcni0vwgll9kmicq738k5q2. Accessed 4 Apr. 2024.
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