Al's Omniflick: Non-Stop

Sunday, March 2, 2014

Non-Stop

**Spoiler Alert** Dir. Jaume Collet-Serra, Starring: Liam Neeson and Julianne Moore Liam Neeson plays Air-Marshal Bill Marks, a former alcoholic and NYPD cop who boards a cross-Atlantic flight, only to be challenged by someone on board who threatens to kill passengers every twenty minutes unless a $150 million ransom is paid. Many suspects and red-herrings create a mystery for Neeson and viewer alike. Moore is a mysterious suspect--at least to the viewer--but is one of many. As dead bodies began to appear, Neeson is implicated in the crime when a passenger forwards a video taken of the air-marshal roughing-up a passenger. Before long, Neeson is branded the hijacker, prompting a miltary response in the form of fighter jets. A ticking bomb is discovered--previously disguised as cocaine contraband; one more complication the air-marshal must address. Collet-Serra employs the ticking-clock, passenger-mutiny and the air-marshal's seeming guilt to create a taut, thrilling situation. Neeson delivers a convincing, exceptional performance while Moore makes her motivations seem plausible even as the audience may see them as anything but. Michelle Dockery from Downton Abbey is a flight attendant trying to maintain order in a combustible situation while oscar-nominee Lupita Nyong'o is unfortunately seldom seen and heard. Non-Stop will most likely be a hit and deservedly so, in spite of some missteps. I left the theater wondering if Hollywood might try to squeeze a sequel or franchise out of it. Stay tuned.

No comments:

Post a Comment

On DVD

Fury (1936)

Director: Fritz Lang

Though we might normally think of the films M and Metropolis when director Fritz Lang becomes the topic of conversation, less known is the legendary director's work in Hollywood. Having fled the ever-growing menace of Nazi Germany for America in the early 1930s', Lang eventually found himself under contract for MGM.

Though his work in Hollywood is very uneven, one standout is Fury, from 1936. Starring Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney, the film's condemnation of mob justice seems spectacularly daring now, considering lynching was still a reality in Depression-era America. We don't see one black person in the film entire but we know precisely for whom Lang film is sympathetic.

Spencer Tracy plays Joe Wilson, who is arrested in a small town while en route to meet his fiance, Katherine (Sylvia Sydney). Suspected of being part of a kidnapping of a little girl, Wilson is arrested on the flimsiest evidence. While he sits in cell; angry and indignant, Katherine is puzzled as to why her fiance hasn't arrived at their prearranged meeting place.

But Wilson's fortunes take a darker and more dangerous turn when a mob--already on edge--is roused to anger. Egging one another on, the mob moves on the jailhouse where Wilson is being held. As the angry gathering becomes a mass, drawing citizens of the town into their swelling numbers, a lynch-mob begins to form. The sheriff, determined to see due process take its course, refuses their forceful demands. Becoming angrier and angrier and bolder and bolder, the crowd storms the jail, overwhelming the sheriff and his deputies. Unable to unlock the cell doors to reach Wilson, the mob sets the jailhouse ablaze as an alternate method of lynching.

Katherine, having arrived on the scene, faints when she sees flames engulf the cell where her fiance is held.

In spite of the mob acting as a faceless entity, its principle members are brought to trial though the town and the defendants maintain a conspiracy of silence, hoping to escape convictions and censure.

A sure acquittal seems imminent until damning evidence assures their guilt. When the majority of the members receive death sentences, Wilson turns up at his brothers, having survived the fire. Knowing the public is unaware of his survival, he vows to stay in hiding to ensure the mob conspirators are executed.

The scene where Katherine, nearly insane from grief, comes face to face with Joe is a powerful moment in the film. As she slowly recovers from her state, she realizes Joe's vindictive determination to see the mob hang is in itself a great injustice.

The story climaxes during a stirring courtroom scene that brings the fascinating story to a close.

I would have never expected Hollywood to make a statement as powerful as Fury made in 1936. Given the fact that lynchings in America at the time went unpunished, the movie railed bravely, in spite of the main character being white rather than black, against what was then the status quo. The Oxbow Incident would make a similar and commensurately powerful statement seven years later.

The film's willingness to peer into the darker side of American life could be partly attributed to Lang, who co-wrote the story and who was no stranger to exploring the darker side of humanity. Having seen evil flower in his home country, it makes sense Lang would choose to tell this story.

Spencer Tracy and Sylvia Sydney give wonderful, emotionally layered performances. Katherine's near descent into madness is depicted touchingly by Sydney. To see Tracy's mild-mannered Wilson become angry and vengeful is heartbreaking.

Even watching Lang's film on a small screen does little to diminish its power. Weeks after the viewing, I still can't shake its indelible images or its angry indictment of one of America's great crimes. One couldn't devise a better title than one it was given eighty years ago. Fury indeed.