Patriotic ‘Reality,’ Brass-Approved

They zoom, they swoop, they streak. They sweat, they fret, they anguish. They schmooze in the squadron bar.

Cleared for takeoff on CBS is “AFP: American Fighter Pilot,” a documentary-style series, with actual fliers, benefiting from Air Force salutes and the tailwinds of Sept. 11.

At the top of the show comes that terrible encore--news footage of a commandeered jetliner slamming into one of New York’s twin towers--dissolving to President Bush saying, “A great people has been moved to defend a great nation,” and an off-camera voice announcing: “In the end, war awaits, and the nation is calling for heroes.”

Here they are tonight, right on cue, even though “American Fighter Pilot” was conceived more than two years ago and its eight episodes taped mostly before last year’s terrorist attacks, which seem to have warmed audiences to movie and TV accounts of U.S. forces in action.

Although shooting was completed, the series was updated with interviews and other material to reflect America’s biggest, bloodiest nightmare of the young millennium. “We’re not going to let that happen again,” a pilot here vows about Sept. 11.

Wearing its Air Force brand and never-again fervor like campaign ribbons, “American Fighter Pilot” raises the troubling question of how far impresarios of prime time will go to make the world safe for democracy. And with whom in officialdom they will collude on behalf of putting on a profitable show with legs.

That applies to any series or movie made with the participation and blessing of the military or an arm of government, however patriotic and noble the intent at a time when Americans instinctively want to unite behind their leaders in opposing terrorism.

But surely not at the expense of entertainment shows becoming government mouthpieces.

“American Fighter Pilot” is the first of the post-Sept. 11 so-called “reality” series sounding a bugle for the nation’s warriors, roaring out of the blocks ahead of Pentagon-approved shows from VH1 and ABC, whose coming “Profiles From the Front Line” is produced by Jerry Bruckheimer (“Pearl Harbor”).

Air Force brass, who granted “American Fighter Pilot” rare access, have seen the series. “And they love it,” executive producer Tony Scott (“Top Gun”) told reporters in a conference call recently.

No wonder, for its trio of F-15 fighter pilot trainees is the latest in a glamorizing line extending back more than 60 years to Ray Milland, William Holden and Wayne Morris as fictional student flyboys in “I Wanted Wings” at the onset of World War II.

The difference? Officers Todd Giggy, Marcus Gregory and Mike Love (who at age 28 is the senior member of this group) are real--three spotlighted fliers in a class of eight learning from instructors with such nicknames as Bubba, Bean, Stump and Shark in 110 days of rigorous training at Tyndall Air Force Base near Panama City, Fla.

Growls Bubba: “We don’t carry briefcases, we don’t use umbrellas and we damn sure don’t color our hair!”

He means Giggy’s dye job, for just as Gregory is a devout, church-going Christian and Love the sober father of two young sons, this cocky yellow-top is the Tom Cruise maverick competing for “top gun” honors. He surfs, rides a motorcycle, drives a red Porsche, calls his comrades “dudes” and returns home each night to a golden wife. If he doesn’t cut it here, there’s always “Survivor.”

But is Giggy too big for his flight britches? Will he wash out before getting a chance to “kick the living crap outta any MIG-29 on the planet?” And do tough, manly, anti-wimp Air Force guys really say “crap” when they mean something else? Or do they tailor their euphemisms for the cameras?

Hoping to freshen its demographics, gray-streaked CBS is again throwing a Frisbee into the ring to attract the younger set that most appeals to advertisers. In line with that, “American Fighter Pilot” tries mightily in initial episodes to build suspense about Giggy’s future as he struggles to remain alive in the program.

Everything about him coincides with the high-style, low-content flash of this series, which closely resembles the youth-oriented documentaries of MTV: fast-cutting, grainy black-and-white inserts, big graphics and choppy sound bites driven by loud, exciting, pulsating drum music.

Although MTV has employed that technique successfully with subjects as epic as the Holocaust and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., this paean to tape editing resonates on CBS as something of a video game.

Although you taste a bit of the pressure they’re facing, Giggy, Gregory and Love are initially little more than pop-ups, assigned with their instructors to roles that support military technology. Undeveloped as characters, they take back seats to those $30-million F-15s and the Air Force’s arsenal of eye-catching training gizmos.

Later episodes will return to the post-Sept. 11 hot war in Afghanistan, as viewers learn the outcome of training. “At least one of the pilots did make it through and is involved [in the war] today,” said another executive producer, Jesse Negron, during the conference call. Negron said he couldn’t disclose more because it was “classified.”

A reporter wanted to know if Negron meant “classified” by the Air Force or the show. He responded carefully, saying only that he was able to “go to a neutral area and ask them [pilots] general questions and things.”

Which is probably more access than the military grants news media covering the anti-terrorism war. “A lot of the reasons the military has a problem with the press” relate to “context,” Negron explained. “They trusted me that I was gonna tell the real story.”

Negron, who is best known for his work on the film “Pop & Me,” seemed to be saying that the Air Force finds entertainment producers more trustworthy than journalists. They’re surely more pliant.

Although the Air Force checks the series to make sure nothing is classified or can “compromise a pilot’s safety,” said Negron, it has no editorial control. No need. Bank on the producers having done nothing to offend the Air Force and endanger future access should the series become a hit and they opt for “American Fighter Pilot 2.”

When flying high for your country in wartime, no sense shooting yourself in the foot.

“AFP: American Fighter Pilot” premieres tonight at 8 on CBS. The network has rated it TV-PG-L (may be unsuitable for young children, with an advisory for coarse language).

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Howard Rosenberg’s column appears Mondays and Fridays. He can be reached at howard.rosenberg@latimes.com.