Next Story 
August 26, 1995
Airing at 8 tonight, Tuskegee tells the story of a remarkable group of men who became the first African-American fighter pilots in the U.S. Army Air Corps. Ironically, to fight for their country, they first had to fight their countrymen, some of whom didn't believe blacks were smart enough or brave enough to fly.
Despite numerous obstacles, 445 eventually made it to combat overseas, and between May 1943 and June 1945 were awarded more than 850 medals. None of the bombers they were charged with escorting none were lost to enemy aircraft. And 66 of the Tuskegee Airmen made the ultimate sacrifice for a largely uncaring nation.
Generations are now largely unaware of the cruelty with which white America treated its black minority. Those unfamiliar with the contributions of these brave men need to see this film to learn about an important part of our past.
Sadly, that is the only reason to see it. The production is surprisingly lifeless, especially since the subject matter is replete with the potential for great movie moments.
Tuskegee follows the fortunes of several recruits Hannibal Lee (Laurence Fishburne), Billy Roberts (Cuba Gooding Jr.), Walter Peoples (Allen Payne), Leroy Cappy (Malcolm-Jamal Warner) and Lewis Johns (Mekhi Phifer) through training, and, for those who make it, into combat.
But this is not a war film; it is an interpersonal drama. For it to work, we have to get to know and understand and care about the characters. That never happens.
For example, the film opens with a young Hannibal Lee lying in a field with a toy plane in his hand. In the next scene, we see an adult Lee leaving for training in Tuskegee, Ala. hence the name Tuskegee Airmen. Lee's is apparently the only black family in Ottumwa, Iowa. But that's all we know, and we only know that because with the exception of his family everyone at his goodbye party is Caucasian.
What was there in Lee's background that made him believe he could leave home and succeed as a pilot? What in his family background gave him the strength to ignore the racism he faced during training, to laugh off the white bomber pilot who is insulted when he discovers his life was saved by a black? We never find out.
It's much the same with recruit Peoples. All we know is that he is an aeronautical engineer and had a pilot's license before reporting to Tuskegee. Peoples proves the best of the bunch, but is kicked out of the flight school when in a fit of Top Gun bravado he buzzes the field.
Efforts to get his punishment reduced fail, so he takes a plane on a suicide flight. Why? Certainly there are a host of psychological explanations but because we don't know Peoples, we never know what motivates him. The characters' actions often seem less a consequence of who they are than a dramatic device to move the film along.
Another problem is the screenplay's lack of depth. The white training officer, Maj. Sherman Joy (Christopher McDonald), would rather work with "real pilots. But his boss, Col. Noel L. Packer (Daniel Hugh Kelly), believes in the program. Was there anything in between? In one scene, the Tuskegee pilots are raw recruits; in the next, superb pilots.
How did most of the pilot trainers feel? Did they work with the recruits or against them? This film would have benefited from narration to provide perspective.
Overall, the performances are restrained and competent. John Lithgow as the evil Southern Sen. Conyers, determined to kill the Tuskegee program, lights up the screen with his sheer venom. (An aside to Malcolm-Jamal Warner, who seems far over the weight limit for a flight program: You got the Cosby residuals? Get a personal trainer.)
Tuskegee Airmen picks up some steam when the pilots are assigned to combat, but by then, it is too late. It's unfortunate. This is an important subject, and this could should have been a film we could point to and say: See, this is what television really is all about.
The National Musuem of the Tuskegee Airmen is at Detroit's Historic Fort Wayne. For tours call (313) 834-2043.