"Air Force One" is a flight from reality every red-blooded American could stand behind. It's got Harrison Ford as a macho gun-toting war hero President. His wife and daughter are both attractive. The bad guys are those darn Russian communists who were so evil back in the good old days.
And after the first hour, you don't have to think much while watching it. In fact, it really helps if you don't think at all.
The first half of the movie has a pretty intelligent set-up: after President James Marshall cracks down on injustice and helps arrest a power-hungry Russian tyrant, the tyrant's supporters, led by Gary Oldman, hijack Air Force One to demand his release.
Fair enough. It's plausible ground for a summer action movie.
Marshall manages to evade the terrorists who don't know he's on the plane. He hides in the belly of the jet and plays a tricky game of cat and mouse. He pulls a few clever tricks with a cellular phone while trying to thwart their plans and save his family.
But the film runs out of intellectual gas at that point.
The ingenious part of "Air Force One" is not changing the setting of a "Die Hard" scenario, but changing the hero from another burnt-out cop to the President of the United States. Unfortunately, that angle is never really played out. No one seems all that surprised that the President of the United States is running around shooting people and beating up Russian terrorists.
If Abraham Lincoln had gotten the drop on John Wilkes Booth at "Our American Cousin" and kickboxed his sorry butt into the mezzanine, the audience at Ford's Theatre would have been shocked. But in "Air Force One," the President clobbers people with furniture, cracks one guy's neck a la Steven Seagal and no one bats an eyelid.
Not that I'm a Russian terrorist, or even a card-carrying communist anymore, but if I were and I saw the President pull a machine gun on me, I'd show a wee bit of surprise.
In "Air Force One," the President is merely another fly in the ointment, and could just as easily be a Secret Service agent or feisty flight attendant.
And the film's second half doesn't finish off the intellectual chess game started in the first half. In "The Fugitive," Ford and Tommy Lee Jones continually tried to outsmart each other and guess their opponent's next move. In "Air Force One," the guns get bigger and the brains get smaller as the movie progresses.
Which is not to say it doesn't have some bright spots. Ford is always a pleasure to watch, as is Oldman, who does a fine job with a relatively flat character. Director Wolfgang Peterson throws in some fine touches like a dizzying view of the President's staff celebrating at the White House and scenes at a Russian prison that evoke the majestic tones of "The Hunt for Red October."
All totaled, though, the movie doesn't compare with Ford's "The Fugitive" or Peterson's "In the Line of Fire." It's just not smart enough.
Glenn Close is squandered in a weak role as Vice President in an irrelevant subplot about whether she should relieve Marshall of command since the stress of the hijacking might have mentally incapacitated him. As if his life would suddenly be in more danger if she took command.
But worse off is William H. Macy, who plays an intelligence-impaired passenger on the plane who explains everything that happens to any members of the audience who find "Air Force One" too tough to follow.
Like when the President looks at a blinking monitor in the cockpit that reads: "Countermeasures Unavailable."
"Hey, we're out of countermeasures," Macy's character chimes in helpfully.
And when a traitor pulls a gun on his character at the end, he has a brilliant flash of insight and shouts, "So it was you!"
Then he gets shot.
Sure, it's fun to see the President kickin' some butt. It would be even better to see him outwit some butt.
"Air Force One" has a great take-off with a strong concept, but after the first hour, the ride gets turbulent and it eventually ends with a bumpy landing.
