'Air Force One' never gets off the ground
July 28, 1997
Web posted at: 11:31 a.m. EDT (1531 GMT)
From Reviewer Paul Tatara
(CNN) -- Harrison Ford has always been, and probably always
will be, one of my favorite movie stars, but in recent years
I'd be hard pressed to tell you exactly why I feel this way.
He's still highly charismatic, no doubt about it, but there's
no avoiding the fact that he's slowly become something of a
stick in the mud.
Gone forever, I suppose, are the endearingly sly grins and
swaggering (but still self-deprecating) wit that carried the
day in his best movies, "Star Wars" and "Raiders of the Lost
Ark." There was even a time when Ford displayed a highly
commendable tendency to knock himself off the pedestal in his
more serious-minded stuff, like "Witness."
Not anymore. In a nutshell, the guy has lost his sense of
humor. "Air Force One" is yet another step in the
degeneration of an acting style that used to serve as an
antidote to Stallone and Schwarzenegger's steroid-pumped
jingoism. By now, though, Ford's aw-shucks grin and cocky
confrontational repartee has been replaced by a grimacing,
finger-pointing task master who forever looks like he's
catching kids smoking in the rest room. America wants a hero
they can identify with, and he's decided to become the first
action principal.
"Air Force One" is a pretty darn unbelievable movie, and not
just because it expects us to buy the concept that a group of
Russian terrorists (led by Gary Oldman) could sneak onto the
most secure airplane in the world by pretending to be a TV
camera crew. This is accomplished so easily, they probably
could have dressed up like lobsters and had somebody push
them in on a food cart. No, one of the more ludicrous things
here is that Ford's President Marshall is a physically
vigorous former Congressional Medal of Honor winner who gets
mad when arguing international policy with his Cabinet and
backs up his point by saying stuff like, "It's the right
thing to do, and you know it!" Since when?!
Okay, okay. I'll accept a thoroughly implausible president
(Ronald Reagan, anyone?), but there are more physics-ignoring
situations in this movie than you can shake a slide rule at.
I'm even willing to pretend that a man can successfully hide
from 10 to 12 armed lunatics as they stalk around inside a
jumbo jet, even though it's impossible. But when it comes to
that same man hanging on with one hand while being dragged
behind that same jumbo jet in mid-flight, I have to draw the
line. Granted, I didn't see a speedometer, but the last time
I was on a commercial airliner, it was moving faster than a
tractor inner-tube bouncing along on a tow line behind the
family speed boat.
As the movie begins, President Marshall has just announced
that the American government will never negotiate with
terrorists, so don't even try it, you terrorists, you.
Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought that was already our
policy. Anyway, this is supposed to give the story more
urgency when Oldman and his cohorts suddenly jump up and
start executing half the people on the plane. They want one
of their leaders released from the local gulag so that they
can start reasserting communism (as opposed to capitalism) in
what Oldman actually refers to as "Mother Russia."
Evidently, McDonald's has gotten to him.
During the initial big shoot-out, a sort of presidential
space capsule is jettisoned from the plane. Oldman and his
buddies think the president has gotten away, but they're
wrong, of course. Ford, now in his trademark rumpled suit, is
actually hiding behind a door or a mixing bowl or something,
grimacing and breathing hard through his nostrils. Everyone
is herded into a single room (including the first lady and
the first daughter), while Oldman spitefully negotiates on a
speaker phone with the vice president, played by Glenn Close.
Close has a completely thankless role, alternating between
staring steely-eyed and crying itty-bitty vice presidential
tears while Oldman selects and executes hostage after
hostage. It's no big surprise that the stuff that goes on in
the White House is nowhere near as interesting as what's
taking place on the plane, but we sure do end up spending a
lot of time down in D.C. anyway. (Dean Stockwell is also on
hand as a Cabinet member who is arguing about the president's
mental competence in this situation, as if the movie's gonna
be canceled because Ford is under duress.)
It makes sense that the producers would enlist Wolfgang
Peterson to direct, since he was so successful at creating
tension in an enclosed environment in his masterful submarine
epic, "Das Boot." The problem is that the plane is so
spacious and accommodating, you start to feel like the most
powerful people in the United States are being held hostage
in a flying Howard Johnson's. There are a couple of
well-staged shoot-outs, but this is pretty inoffensive,
by-the-numbers stuff. Not as completely dumb as it could've
been, but not as exciting, either.
Eventually, Peterson is forced to play summer movie hack,
inserting as many computer generated plane lunges and aerial
dogfights as humanly possible. My favorite effect is a big
red digital read-out in the cockpit that evidently is the
only instrument necessary to fly one of these babies. Every
time we see it, it's telling us something different,
information ranging from "PARACHUTE RAMP ACTIVATING" to
"COUNTER MEASURES UNAVAILABLE." It never gets around to
saying "ENOUGH ALREADY."
"Air Force One" has some profanity and is surprisingly
violent, with more than a few point blank executions by
Oldman. One killing of a bright, young woman is downright
gleefully mean-spirited. Rated R. 125 minutes.
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