Flight: Zemeckis Clings to Our Calvinist Origins

I was very excited to watch Robert Zemeckis’ newest film, Flight, because I have fond memories of watching his thrilling yet metaphysical movies like Contact and Cast Away, where the characters are transported to different worlds and learn so much about themselves. But while Flight features interesting metaphors, film techniques, and great acting, its moralizing character study occasionally renders it to be off-putting. This film realistically portrays how the alcoholic refuses to acknowledge that his problem has catastrophically affected other people’s lives. It also explores the consequences of abusing one’s privileges and betraying the public’s trust, giving the film a slightly preachy Calvinist edge—i.e., every incident happens for a reason, and one must close-read these events as signs of God’s will. Although it verges on becoming excessively didactic and moralizing, Flight provides for an interesting case study of a troubled soul who must reassess his life of debauchery.

 We first see Whip Whitaker (Denzel Washington) waking up in a hotel room, hung-over from excessive alcohol and drug use. Although he has barely gotten any sleep, he is scheduled to fly a plane through the storm. He picks himself up with a drink and a snort of cocaine. His plane starts to falter and ultimately fails, forcing him to land the plane in an open pastoral field (which happens to be next to a church). While most people pronounce him a hero, the NTSB has started to investigate probable causes for the plane crash. If convicted, Whitaker would face life in prison for the manslaughter of the four passengers that died in the accident.

While the investigation and trial is going on, we see an interesting parallel sequence between Whip and a heroin-addicted photographer and actress, Nicole (Kelly Reilly), who suffers a terrible overdose and crash. Whip’s good-natured yet slightly condescending demeanor towards the stewardesses and his co-pilot indicate that he’s been allowed to abuse his privileges of his position, class, and masculinity. His female counterpart, on the other hand, must work her way up from the moral dregs of society (practically prostituting herself for drugs) until she can finally get clean and rehabilitate herself. The parallel begins to feel a little heavy-handed as these plots intersect in a predictable way; they fall in love. As the film progresses, spectators will inevitably sympathize with the woman who accepts and takes control of her drug addiction and they will wag their fingers at the man who refuses to seek help.

I felt compelled to draw metaphorical conclusions about Whip’s relationship to flying and driving as his pursuit of control. The camera shots depict how Whip clutches onto the control stick and struggles to maintain order over the turbulence that mirrors his addiction. Whip seems to be the only person who feels confident that he will be able to land this plane. He prides himself on being able to game the system. The others in the cockpit, including the head flight attendant and his co-pilot, see this dangerous situation for what it is, foreshadowing that Whip will fail to realize the gravity of his situation until much later.

Flight is a perfect title for this movie because the protagonist is always looking for an escape. Unfortunately for Whip, somebody needs to account for the lost lives. This film challenges Whip to realize that his habit hurts not only himself but also other people, including those passengers, his estranged family, and his closest allies.

The film started to get a little stale when they inserted scenes of Alcoholic Anonymous meetings, and indications that a higher power had designed this incident. Even the rational Lang tries to play guardian angel, signaling that he has successfully added “an act of God” as one of the probable causes for the crash. Also, when Whip visits his co-pilot, the co-pilot and his wife condemn him for flying while intoxicated and sit him down for a collective prayer. His wife cries out, “Praise the Lord Jesus.” It felt a little hyperbolic and absurd, and I wasn’t sure if the screenwriter or the director had anticipated that it would come off that way. However, I might have felt this way because I was not expecting a redemption narrative about how all this was predestined to happen so that this one man could reevaluate his choices in life. One could still argue that these various regressive points are presented to challenge the hyper-individualism of Whip, who insists that he has everything under control. Appealing to our deep-seated Calvinist origins, the film encourages us to root for our hero so that he can break through a post-Lapsarian world of lies, hedonism, and debauchery.

Washington delivers a compelling performance of the alcoholic pilot who learns to accept that his destructive behavior has manifested in fatal consequences. It was refreshing to see him play a more ambiguous and insidious antihero than his usual investigative role. Cheadle manages to steal the scene whenever he appears, and the same applies to the oddly cheerful drug dealer that John Goodman plays.

Flight is definitely a film for adults, as it includes startling and graphic scenes of drug and alcohol abuse. For those who appreciate films with moral messages, this may be a great choice. Those who can withstand prolonged scenes of self-destruction without losing focus should also consider this film. Be warned that you are not walking into a typical Denzel Washington thriller or suspense film. This film will frustrate, engross, and scare audiences, and it can get emotionally taxing. It will make viewers do a lot of work reexamining any complacency they’ve had about their vices.