Howard Hawks’s tortured 1936 antiwar film suffers from a pretentiousness that very seldom appeared in his work, but the pervasive angst of this vision of men at war (coscripted by William Faulkner) provides the necessary subtext of despair repressed but always present in Hawks’s films. Warner Baxter is the commander who collapses under stress; Fredric March is the squadron leader whose hard-won callousness eventually and inevitably fails him.