Well... you may have read John Robie's look at FLIGHT 180... and dismissed it as being the ravings and rantings of a diseased burglar of felines... And folks... Robie gets all the feline he can handle... But besides that... He does have minor and deep dark mental issues... But The Yattering is merely a tormenting demon bent on torturing Jack's Ulcerated Interiors... He's a perfectly normal everyday demon that loves film and movies and even flicks and cinema. So... let's read this first look from The Yattering...and I hope to hear more from it soon...
Stumbling out from the Pasadena test screening for "Flight 180" three weeks ago, I had a startling premonition: when New Line tries to get its "Twilight Zone" clone off the ground next Spring, it will explode in mid-air. Hopefully burning up with it the big-screen careers of its engineers, the oh-so-trendy Teletubbies Glen Morgan and James Wong. Sure they studied at the feet of Chris Carter. But their Vancouver tv roots go further back than that. And imitation deosn't ALWAYS yield the finest flattery.
Let me now examine the wreckage as I see it smoldering on the ground, so that perhaps at least one of you will decide to stay off this "Flight" next March. The structure of the aircraft itself was quite sturdy; a cool script from writer Jeffrey Reddick. You've probably heard the premise: schoolboy Devon Sawa (whose Denis Leary impersonation in "Idle Hands" at least provided some entertainment in that film), has a premononition upon boarding a Paris-bound plane.
He sees the cabin lurching and ripping open, schoolmates sucked one by one into the night. When his senses return, he warns the passengers of their fate before he and several of his obnoxious friends are forcefully relocated to the terminal. The plane takes off, airbursts, and goes down with his class inside. And one by one, the survivors around him begin to die...
Unfortunately, New Line decided to hire Morgan and Wong to hijack the script and pilot it toward a more generic port. Now matter how you may feel about their Chris Carter collaborations on "X Files" and "Millennium", remember these guys actually started in Vancouver learning the basics of audience-pleasing at the feet of their first master, Stephen J. Cannell. Yes, that's right, they wrote "21 Jump Street".
And so these mechanics worked their magic to "fix" this efficient little script. Some never-before-seen ideas include a dubious bathtub garroting seemingly motivated by toilet water. Yes, toilet water. And a horrible microwave accident begins a murder sequence that plays like it was staged by Jerry Lewis, but thankfully cuts short the irritating, weepy lamentations of the teacher who gave up her seat on that fateful flight. Then...oh, nevermind. I predict that these will be the most inane supernatural killings you'll see at the movies next year.
And director Wong has presided over this farce with a small-screen vision that makes fellow "X Files" alum David Nutter's work on last year's "Disturbing Behavior" seem like David Lean. The plane gag pales even besdie "Alive", let alone "Fearless" or "Fight Club". The visual "style" and lighting is as flat and ugly. The sets and locations evoke long-repressed memories of "Silver Bullet" and the hideous DeLaurentiis backlot. The plot holes have been patched with the obligatory alterna-ballads meant to evoke the angst of SURVIVING. After the third or fourth tune, I wondered if I would...
And the performances...I foresee a coming drought for most involved with this fiasco. Devon Sawa will be lucky to book a Mentos commercial. And Tony "Candyman" Todd, who appears out of nowhere in a hilariously nonsensical cameo that lets him swallow the scenery whole without even chewing, will have to hang the hook up after this one.
It took me weeks to muster the will to write about this miscarriage. Concern for the minds and wallets of the flick's target audience, who won't be admitted to this hard "R" at most theatres anyway, finally rallied me to the keys. In the time that has elapsed since that fateful night, word has come that New Line is paying to shoot a THIRD ending. Maybe they can shoot an alternate first and second act while they're at it. Don't waste any more cash on this crash, guys; not even the genius of Rod Serling could get this dog to hunt.
So don't say I didn't warn you next Spring, when you're barraged during your MTV TRL with New Line's aggressive-as-usual ad buy. And don't be surprised if they try to fool you with another title, such as the apt "Final Destination". The only destination for this "Flight" is Blockbuster oblivion. Mssrs. Morgan and Wong, I hope your agents packed your parachutes.
