When The Great Waldo Pepper opens with the now obligatory nostalgia of an evocative montage of period photographs, it looks as though one is in for another no-holds-barred assault on the box-office. As it turns out, George Roy Hill keeps his penchant for whimsy well under control, only once, and quite acceptably—the winning smile near the beginning which tells us that Waldo won't really be so mean-spirited as to fail to keep his promise of a free ride to the boy who has laboured all afternoon on his behalf—fringing the cuteness which marred Butch Cassidy and The Sting. [Roger] Corman's The Red Baron, of course, dug much deeper into the mystique of daredevilry and deathwish associated with World War One aces; but in this third exploration of shrinking frontiers, which is really a homage from one dream factory to another closed long ago by the encroachments...