For a director celebrated for his groundbreaking special effects work, Flight is a confident and accomplished return to live-action filmmaking for Robert Zemeckis. The film is a character study of genius pilot Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) who saves the lives of nearly every passenger on board when his plane encounters a catastrophic failure mid-flight. Forced into rolling the aircraft upside down to stabilise an uncontrollable nosedive, Whip escapes the crash landing with minor injuries and is branded a hero by the adoring public. What they are unaware of is Whip’s toxicology report which reveals him to have been heavily drunk and under the influence of cocaine while flying the plane.
Directed very simply (mid-shots all the way), Zemeckis’ camera is quiet and unobtrusive, allowing the actors to play the drama through without too much stylish trickery. Despite this, he delivers the special effects-laden plane crash sequence with as much gusto as you’d expect. It is, up to now, the most gripping I’ve seen and will do nothing to soften my only recurring anxiety dream.
Main man Denzel Washington is superb. He gives the impression of a highly skilled professional convinced he can hide his alcoholism with his genius (even to his own eyes) – a subtle trick. He isn’t likeable but, due to the performance, we understand his disease and struggle with him all the way. (The groans around me as Whip slips again and again into drunkenness were nearly loud enough even to drown out the screening’s ubiquitous popcorn rustle.)
My one main problem with Flight was strangely its most enjoyable element – I’m talking about Whip’s drug dealer, played by John Goodman who seems so alien and removed from the stern drama that his presence threatens to twist it upside down into a completely different film. It argues with the overall preachy tone of the film. I never enjoy being preached to, but at least if you’re a preachy film, don’t dish out the light relief fun drug thing at the same time to punctuate the lecture in an attempt to make it palatable. Every time the pony-tailed dealer shows up, The Rolling Stones let loose in the soundtrack and Goodman delivers enough good jokes to conflict with the film’s message.
It might work if it wasn’t for the soundtrack and the camera language (the only stylish touches Zemeckis adds are crash zoom cocaine rushes and rack focus on a heroin needle) which back Goodman up. It is as if the film is saying “Drugs are ruining this man’s life. Also, here’s a bit where we’re going all Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas with non-judgemental, light-hearted, some-people-have-a-good-time-on drugs segments… But seriously though, drugs are bad… But actually look at John Goodman here, isn’t he funny?… But SERIOUSLY, addiction=bad.”
The reason it jarred so strongly with me is that, while I appreciate the pacing, the struggle, the drama of Flight, Goodman’s interjections reminded me that the film I’d kind of rather be watching would be the one where his character was the lead. The writers don’t help themselves with this character, or maybe they simply didn’t count on Goodman doing such a good job.
The scene where writer John Gatins really does shine is for me the standout moment of the film: Whips first meeting with Nicole (Kelly Reilly) on the hospital’s stairwell. He is recovering from a plane crash, she is recovering from a heroin overdose and in trundles the character named in the script as “Gaunt Young Man” who is most definitely not recovering from terminal cancer. The ensuing conversation is paced brilliantly, and the perspective offered from the Gaunt Young Man who is both upbeat and resigned to his fate is the catalyst for Whip and Nicole to try to make a life recovering together.
Ultimately, Flight is a Hollywood film and certain ideologies have to be maintained, events must have their consequences and ruined lives must be redeemed. These aren’t plot spoilers; from the moment Whip wakes up in hospital after the crash, we all know how the story is going to shake out. But the film knows we know and the important thing is how engaged we are from A to B. Thankfully the answer is: quite engaged. Invested enough to recommend it as a good watch, which is what I’m doing now.
Jon Bates Writes 