Ashvegas movie review: Flight

Review by The Isolated Moviegoer:

Robert Zemeckis’ Flight earns its R rating right out of the gates.  Featuring full frontal nudity, drugs, alcohol, and big boy profanity, it badly wants to be a hard-nosed dramatic picture.  That’s fine, except that such an approach clashes with the decidedly non-edgy filmmaking of the man behind Forrest Gump and Back to the Future.  In his first R-rated venture since 1980’s Used Cars and first live action work since 2000’s Cast Away, Zemeckis seems unsure of himself in these mature settings.  As a result, he takes the safest route possible through an already cliché-riddled script, the combination of which leads to one increasingly vacuous film.

Denzel Washington stars as Whip Whitaker, an airline pilot whose introductory scene provides all of the aforementioned R-rated requirements.  Hungover and with a cocaine boost to get him going, he takes off in a treacherous storm heading from Orlando to Atlanta.  Despite some initial turbulence, Whip gets the plane to clear skies, but just before descent, a mechanical failure occurs and sends the bird into a drop.

In the event of a plane crash, few actors can encourage the level of trust and confidence as Washington, and in these riveting opening scenes, he delivers the goods.  His charisma likewise inspires Zemeckis, who shoots and chops this sequence for maximum tension.  Such thrills, though, are sadly short-lived.  Waking in a hospital room, Whip must deal with the consequences of the crash, namely the toxicology report that found drugs and alcohol in his blood.

At this point, Flight comes to a fork in the road and, instead of going one way, thinks it can take both routes.  On one side is the investigation into the crash.  Preparing for a potential lawsuit, Whip’s union rep (Bruce Greenwood) and the attorney they hire (Don Cheadle) bring the crackle of a courtroom drama as they combat the case’s legal side.  Inextricably linked to Whip’s gray fault, however, is his addiction, and in the hands of Zemeckis’ vanilla filmmaking, this exploration is a heavy-handed bore.

To understand this unfortunate side of our lead, Zemeckis and screenwriter John Gatins put Whip through the wringer of alcoholic clichés.  All the requisite speech-slurring and tripping over tables are here, as are the disconnected interactions with those around him.  A parallel story of heroin addict Nicole (Kelly Reilly) is similarly unfortunate and goes nowhere, even after she links up with Whip.  Her attempts to get him help have all the charm of an After School Special, and as part of a larger problem, each time Flight goes deeper into Whip’s addiction, it takes away from the intrigue of the investigation.  Unable to reconcile the storylines, the less-appealing side eventually consumes the promising one until the latter is unrecognizable.  After nearly 2.5 hours of this see-sawing, even Washington’s charisma wears thin, though hope for him somehow salvaging the project evaporates fairly early on.

Further hampering the film are some of the most unimaginative musical cues possible.  For Whip’s hangover?  “Feelin’ Alright.”  For Nicole shooting up?  “Under the Bridge.”  Then there’s John Goodman’s drug dealer, whose life is perpetually scored to “Sympathy for the Devil.”  Like the opening scene, his pair of appearances yearn to herald something wild and daring, and though his odd brand of gonzo is little more than a distraction, in a strange way he’s exactly what this overly comfortable film needs.  At least Goodman goes for something, the same of which can’t be said of his surrounding players.  They’re too busy pushing Whip to confess his addiction, a long drawn out process that’s no fun to endure.  As Flight’s lone rebel, Goodman is out of place and must exit shortly after he arrives.  If only we could leave with him.

Grade: C-

Rated R for drug and alcohol abuse, language, sexuality/nudity and an intense action sequence.

Flight is currently playing at the Carolina Cinemas on Hendersonville Rd.