A Different Sort of Splash
Things have got to the point where, if you're not paying close attention, you could almost start to get Woody Allen and Clint Eastwood mixed up with each other: both hugely respected actor-directors, both of about the same vintage, both rather less frequently seen before the camera these days... and, it should really be said, both of them perhaps not quite delivering the goods with quite the same consistency as was the case back in the 70s and 80s (your mileage may obviously differ, and it would be remiss of me not to admit that Eastwood is currently on the biggest hot streak of his career in terms of simple commercial success). It's still quite rare that either of them serves up something genuinely bad, but as often as not these days their films are most likely to make you go 'Mm,' and change the subject onto something a little more prepossessing. I offer as the latest exhibit Clint Eastwood's new movie Sully, which rather puts me in mind of an episode of the long-running medi-soap Casualty.
Or, more precisely, something I once heard said about Casualty by a writer who briefly worked on the show. Doing his research, by both watching old episodes and hanging around in A&E departments, he came to the conclusion that Casualty (the show) was filled with people who had accidents which conveniently allowed them to articulate whatever personal and emotional issues they happened to be going through, while Casualty (the department) was simply filled with people who had had inconvenient (at best) accidents. So he started writing episodes which he felt were truer to life – ones where the central crisis, rather than serving to unveil a secret conflict or enable personal growth, just happened to unsuspecting, undeserving people. And he lasted about two episodes before they sacked him. Fiction ideally demands outrageous drama.
Reality generally has different requirements to fiction, of course, which is one of the main things you notice about Sully. This presents itself as a docudrama about the 2009 'Miracle on the Hudson' incident in which a passenger jet made a water landing on the Hudson River after both its engines were disabled in an encounter with a flock of birds. Tom Hanks and Aaron Eckhart play the pilots of the troubled plane; Eckhart has the bigger moustache but Hanks gets the bigger role, as Chesley Sullenberger (our research indicates this really is his name), a hugely experienced aviation professional who finds himself wholly unprepared for the media and administrative circus which consumes his life immediately after the crash – or, as he is very careful to describe it, 'water landing'.
I've already inflicted one overelaborate metaphor on you, but never mind: here's another one. Imagine watching two men build a dry stone wall. Between them these guys have been building things for seventy or eighty years. You are in the presence of two of the greats. Every move they make is nothing less than measured and precise and immaculate. What they are doing is effectively beyond criticism. However, they are still building a dry stone wall, which is not the most exciting structure in the annals of architecture, and nothing they do can really distract you from that for too long.
In other words, while Chesley 'Sully' Sullenberger – careful, reserved, precise, particular, dry as an old biscuit, an unlikely candidate to even have a nickname – may be exactly the kind of man you want flying the plane next time you travel by air, he's not exactly sparkling material when it comes to a true-life movie drama. All right, so he has a few traumatic flashbacks and nightmares, and it's suggested he's a bit economical with the actualite when it comes to using his first job to promote his second (aviation safety consultant), but that's still pretty slim pickings when it comes to putting together a movie even as brief as this one (a practically bite-sized 96 minutes).
It may also have been an issue that all the really exciting stuff in this film technically happens at the start of the story, which would explain a slightly curious structural choice where the actual movie begins post-crash – sorry, post-water landing, and then goes on to showcase the incident and its aftermath in the middle of the movie. And then show the plane going down once again just before the closing credits, presumably because it's such an exciting bit the audience aren't going to complain about watching it a second time.
And I suppose they're right, because the post-goose-meets-jet stuff is far and away the most interesting and engaging part of the film. The rest of it is just grey and lacking in a clear focus: it could be about how the media sensationalises everything, even things which were pretty sensational to begin with, or about the loss of trust and simple human decency in a machine-dominated world, or the importance of remembering to take our basic humanity into account. It certainly feels like a film with A Big Message, it's just not certain what that message is. Like any other American film about a plane-related incident these days, it also feels just a bit po-faced and reverential. I'm not surprised that the transport safety people have been complaining about this movie, given they are presented as a sort of Spanish Inquisition (no, I didn't expect that either), but this entirely contrived plot thread is all the film can come up with when it comes to generating actual conflict and drama. However, it's telling that their pursuit of Sully, which forms the closest thing the film has to a conventional climax, is essentially resolved by watching people play Flight Simulator, which isn't that exciting when you play it yourself, let alone watch as a spectator.
Tom Hanks is one of the great actors, and he's on full power here – and Clint Eastwood is one of the great directors, and likewise he does nothing wrong (and, fair's fair, this film has given him the biggest domestic opening of his career). Nobody really drops the ball here, not Eckhart, not Laura Linney as Sully's wife... well, I suppose you might want to have a word with the screenwriter, perhaps. It's just that, as Sully himself observes, the incident only lasted 208 seconds, and the rest of the events just aren't that dramatic enough to sustain a full-length movie narrative. All the things that make this exactly the sort of air-travel incident you'd choose to be involved in are the same ones that keep it from being a genuinely gripping drama.