These disaster movies almost always start the same way. People involved in the coming catastrophe are just getting out of bed and ready for the day. In this case it's the airline pilot, bulky Ernest Borgnine (R.I.P.) and his pretty wife, Carol Rossen, tumbling around in bed with their children. Usually, the characters are cheerful and in love, as this unlikely couple are. Except that Rossen has a strange feeling -- "Don't go out today." That's typical too, but usually occurs later than the first two minutes. However, this made-for-TV production is anxious to get to the calamity and its hallucinatory aftermath, so we have to rush a little bit through Borgnine's shower and shave.
Nice to see Kim Basinger in an early role. She was my supporting player in the poetic masterpiece, "No Mercy." Flight 401 leaves New York for Miami but in approaching the airport they notice a light on the panel indicating that the nose wheel is not down. A frequent cause is that the light bulb or its contact is defective, more of an irritation than a cause for alarm.
The captain puts the plane on autopilot and bends over to help the engineer extract the noisome bulb. He sends co-pilot Borgnine down into the electronic bay to try to visualize the nose wheel. Meanwhile the airplane is descending from its assigned 2,000 feet over the Everglades, ineluctably, until it flies at cruising speed directly into the swamp and crashes.
The film doesn't make clear how the accident happened, being more interested, I suppose, in the human drama. What happened is that the autopilot, once set, keeps the airplane at a steady altitude and direction. But the controls are sensitive to touch, in case the pilot has to yank them quickly, and the autopilot is instantly and automatically disengaged. Someone fiddling with the light or on his way to the electronic bay brushed against the controls and disengaged the autopilot, so the airplane began a slow descent. As the altitude decreased to dangerous levels, a signal -- chimes -- was sounded but no one heard it because they were busy elsewhere. It was a juxtaposition of unfortunate events.
The dialog is predictable. Borgnine is lying in a hospital bed, dying, his wife and a priest at his side, and he gasps out his last words: "I love you." The writer responsible for this garbage is Robert M. Young. But every once in a while, when no one is looking, he unbuttons and slips in a droll line or two. "Money can't buy everything -- it can't buy poverty." And, "So now you're the perfect company man?" "Well, nobody is perfect." And, "Jordy, that's like saying, 'Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?'"
The irregular appearance of Borgnine's ghost on later flights turns frightening. At first he's glimpsed sitting silently in a passenger seat, then he begins to issue warnings and proclamations. Finally, it becomes irritating enough that a séance of the principal participants lays the ghost.
Was the apparition "real"? The first college classroom I ever entered was at San Mateo Community College at Coyote Point, just south of San Francisco International. The class was in introductory psychology and the instructor, Dorothy Miller, gave us a brief questionnaire. One of the questions was, "Do you believe in ghosts?" My answer was, "No." It was the wrong answer. The correct answer was, "Undecided." I learned a lot from that one question: namely, to keep an open mind. That said, it has to be added that sometimes the imagination hijacks our perception. My forthcoming volume -- "Beware The Naked Boogeyman" -- explains it all.
Nice to see Kim Basinger in an early role. She was my supporting player in the poetic masterpiece, "No Mercy." Flight 401 leaves New York for Miami but in approaching the airport they notice a light on the panel indicating that the nose wheel is not down. A frequent cause is that the light bulb or its contact is defective, more of an irritation than a cause for alarm.
The captain puts the plane on autopilot and bends over to help the engineer extract the noisome bulb. He sends co-pilot Borgnine down into the electronic bay to try to visualize the nose wheel. Meanwhile the airplane is descending from its assigned 2,000 feet over the Everglades, ineluctably, until it flies at cruising speed directly into the swamp and crashes.
The film doesn't make clear how the accident happened, being more interested, I suppose, in the human drama. What happened is that the autopilot, once set, keeps the airplane at a steady altitude and direction. But the controls are sensitive to touch, in case the pilot has to yank them quickly, and the autopilot is instantly and automatically disengaged. Someone fiddling with the light or on his way to the electronic bay brushed against the controls and disengaged the autopilot, so the airplane began a slow descent. As the altitude decreased to dangerous levels, a signal -- chimes -- was sounded but no one heard it because they were busy elsewhere. It was a juxtaposition of unfortunate events.
The dialog is predictable. Borgnine is lying in a hospital bed, dying, his wife and a priest at his side, and he gasps out his last words: "I love you." The writer responsible for this garbage is Robert M. Young. But every once in a while, when no one is looking, he unbuttons and slips in a droll line or two. "Money can't buy everything -- it can't buy poverty." And, "So now you're the perfect company man?" "Well, nobody is perfect." And, "Jordy, that's like saying, 'Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how was the play?'"
The irregular appearance of Borgnine's ghost on later flights turns frightening. At first he's glimpsed sitting silently in a passenger seat, then he begins to issue warnings and proclamations. Finally, it becomes irritating enough that a séance of the principal participants lays the ghost.
Was the apparition "real"? The first college classroom I ever entered was at San Mateo Community College at Coyote Point, just south of San Francisco International. The class was in introductory psychology and the instructor, Dorothy Miller, gave us a brief questionnaire. One of the questions was, "Do you believe in ghosts?" My answer was, "No." It was the wrong answer. The correct answer was, "Undecided." I learned a lot from that one question: namely, to keep an open mind. That said, it has to be added that sometimes the imagination hijacks our perception. My forthcoming volume -- "Beware The Naked Boogeyman" -- explains it all.