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By
NICK ZEGARAC
David & Jerry Zucker and Jim
Abrahams' Airplane (1980) is a two fold assault on
the artistic sensibilities of American cinema. On
the one hand, it is a valiant send up to the 70s
affinity for grandly epic disaster flicks. On the
other, it is the first master spoof of 50s
overwrought melodrama. But this film buries cliché
upon calamity, emerging as a delightfully whacky
concoction of skits and bits borrowed -- or
perhaps stolen is a better fit -- from other films
that took the same premise of danger in the skies
way too seriously. A prelude to the haplessly
irrelevant feel-good movies that fleshed out the
rest of the decade, "Airplane" soars high in its
lowbrow comedic appeal.
Handsome, though slightly off balanced Robert Hays
headlines as Ted Striker a once hot shot/now has
been pilot whose fear of flying is tested on a
disastrous trip that begins as a means of
rekindling his amour for dumb-as-a-post buxom
flight attendant, Elaine (Julie Hagarty). The name
'Striker' is actually a send up to a character
veteran noir actor Dana Andrews once played in a
truly painful adventure flick entitled "Zero
Hour." In fact, "Airplane" lifts the plot of that
movie verbatim, embellishing the absurdity and
never taking any part of it seriously.
Robert Stack -- who previously played over the top
in John Wayne's "The High and The Mighty" returns
as Capt. Rex Kramer, a would be pillar of strength
who literally turns to jelly when the chips are
down. Lloyd Bridges, Leslie Neilson, Peter Graves
and Kareem Abdul-Jabaar appear to wildly
incongruous effect. What is most ironic about
"Airplane" as a movie viewed from a contemporary
vantage is how little its content seems to have
dated. Yes, the humor is decidedly more sexist
than the antiseptic political correctness that the
movies have been homogenized with today -- but
overall that sort of crass (this is how it is)
mentality has retained its ability to be a
sobering, engaging and entertaining experience. We
like the characters because they're likable, gush
at the mismanaged cliché of their actions and
cheer loudly when the plane makes its all points
landing with the foregone happy ending in tact.
Paramount's newly minted 'Don't Call Me Shirley
Edition' of "Airplane" is not all that one might
expect. Though there are marked improvements in
overall image clarity from the previously released
bare bones edition, this new disc continues to
suffer from dirt, scratches, grain and other
age-related artifacts which -- thanks to the
improved sharpness in image resolution on this
transfer -- are all that much more obvious. Colors
are rich, vibrant and slightly dated, but
otherwise accurately balanced. Flesh tones appear
slightly pasty and somewhat orange at times, but
overall retain a natural look. Black levels are
never deep. Overall, then, this image rates
moderately higher than its predecessor but still
has some distance to cover to be considered
flawless. The audio is presented as both a 5.1
remix and original 2.0 stereo. There's some minor
distortion inherent in the recording, but overall
the results will not disappoint. There's little
difference between the 5.1 and 2.0 sound field.
Extras include a surprisingly thorough audio
commentary track, as well as a branching option
that allows you to watch the film with significant
detours provided into its production. Personally,
this reviewer would have preferred the more
conventional and far less obtrusive 'making of'
featurette or six part documentary that had
previously been Paramount's standard. |
