Flight 4K 2012

Robert Zemeckis’s new film opens with a lengthy erotic scene of waking up in the morning, in which a naked young woman dances around the sleeping protagonist, a pilot named Washington, while the camera captures her from every angle. It’s immediately clear—this is going to be a great movie! But when the camera, having had its fill of the girl, gradually shifts its angle away, zooming in on a close-up of the protagonist—who is gleefully pumping himself full of stimulants after a drinking binge—things start to get even more interesting.

The themes of conscience, honesty, and the struggles of addiction come to the forefront sharply and suddenly. The rather lengthy prologue (which follows the vivid erotic opening) is devoted to a horrific plane crash and the brave pilot who saved countless lives. Perhaps the best pilot of all time. However, he suffers from a severe alcohol addiction. Unfortunately, the “talent wasted by alcohol” is far from rare, both in real life and in cinema. So Zemeckis fails to break new ground or come up with anything original.

On the other hand, Denzel Washington gives it his all, surpassing the abundance of his previous characters by playing with emotions, trembling facial expressions, and his eyes, working wonders with his magnificent acting portrayal of a highly controversial and intriguing protagonist—all while practically begging for an “Oscar.” Another theme is alcoholism—an addiction that cannot be overcome—which begins to destroy the life of even such an experienced and talented man as the story’s main character. Zemeckis approaches the destruction of the protagonist’s personality from every angle, ranging from divorce and the loss of family to the loss of friends and complete loneliness.

Another prominent theme of the film is lies. Lying to those around him, self-deception—all of this surrounds the protagonist both internally and externally. A collection of contradictions and false beliefs that somehow keep life moving forward, allowing him to survive through deception. And indeed, the climactic showdown can be viewed from very different audience perspectives. Some will find, like the protagonist, that the only salvation and liberation from alcoholism lies in the truth; others will decide that it would have been better to lie to save himself, since all the circumstances aligned so perfectly for that climactic lie.

Thanks to the abundance of perspectives on the situation and the overall ambiguity—both of the main character and the film’s many scenes—the director succeeds in achieving both the necessary dynamism and exquisite emotional tension. Despite the predictability of the plot and even the obviousness of the protagonist’s actions, the film’s narrative is brilliantly constructed using the visual language of cinema, without devolving into a documentary-style collection of facts, court hearings, and a mediocre detective investigation.

Zemeckis tells the story of a talented alcoholic pilot from the most compelling angle, fully immersing the viewer in his work. It begins with the crash and the accident, and from there, following the Hitchcockian conventions of the thriller genre, it only ratchets up the tension even higher and more intensely. Although, of course, you wouldn’t exactly call this film a thriller. But as a powerful, emotionally charged, and tense drama, it is simply brilliant.

"Flight" marks a powerful return to feature filmmaking for Robert Zemeckis, who crafted this tense drama with great talent and cinematic flair, in all the glory of its strict R rating—without resorting to censorship or compromises—while thoroughly exploring the themes raised and pushing Washington to deliver an even more expressive performance than before. And the charismatic John Goodman, who appears in just a couple of scenes but is always a standout, is simply capable of stealing the entire film for himself, leaving an even brighter and cooler impression in this movie than all the other characters. A brilliant film that leaves no one indifferent and fully immerses you in the issues it addresses.