Flight Risk (2025)

Score: 1.5 / 5

A US Marshal, placed on desk duty after a botched mission, gets a shot at redemption by apprehending and escorting a key government witness to court against a dangerous mob boss in New York. The witness, a weaselly book-cooker hiding in Alaska, may have been hard for her to find, but he's eager to save his own neck, so he shouldn't be hard to handle. Cuffed and chained to excess by the Marshal, he's put on a small private plane to get to Anchorage, and then on to Seattle and into witness protection. But their pilot, a cocksure and obnoxious man with a Southern drawl, keeps setting off minor red flags for both agent and captive. Could the mob boss have more awareness of this mission than they know? How much peril are they in, floating at 3000 feet among the peaks of rural Alaska, at the mercy of a man who hasn't been vetted?

I love a high-concept, single-location thriller, especially one that leans into its limited budget; the only requirement, in my book, is excellent writing. Flight Risk doesn't have that. Don't get me wrong: it's a smashing idea, not far from several Hitchcockian premises, and the screenplay does occasionally offer its requisite thrills for a B-movie that knows exactly what it is meant to be for a mass audience. But the plot is so overwrought and underbaked that it almost gave me food poisoning.

Why, if it took no fewer than three agents to find and apprehend the witness, does only one remain to escort him to civilization? That was my first annoyed question not even ten minutes into this mercifully brief film. Topher Grace plays the witness, the mononymous Winston, and it's an apt role for the somewhat diminutive actor, who chooses such strange films to join and tends to play himself in them, to varying efficacy. I enjoy watching him, and he has much more to do in this film than usual. But his smart-mouth wisecracks do get old pretty fast, and I had the nagging sensation that the character was intentionally queer coded (whether from Grace, the writer, or the director is clearly uncertain) in a distinctly negative way: he's more than a bit flippant in the face of terror, resorts to biting comedy, is closely attached to and protective of his mother, exhibits incontinence when threatened, and is the target of repeated innuendo to which he merely looks away in shame. That kind of depiction is, frankly, offensive and gross, and I thought had been done away with in the '90s.

I wonder if Jared Rosenberg, the writer, had something to do with this, but without knowing his prior work, I can't say. On the other hand, director Mel Gibson's real-life antics and bizarre periods of hating various demographics is highly suspect. And I'm by no means a Gibson hater; indeed, I am a champion when it comes to separating the art from the artist. That said, sometimes artists can't separate themselves from their work, and when it shows, it really shows (looking at you, Clint Eastwood). Gibson's directorial career (Braveheart, The Passion of the Christ, Apocalypto, Hacksaw Ridge) is one I've long admired and lionized in my social circles (though his acting has lost favor with me in the last, say, decade). And while it's been nearly a decade since his last job in the director's chair, he seems almost bored in his approach to this film. Any director worth his salt would find interesting and exciting ways to maneuver in this cramped setting, perhaps employing long takes or a whirling interior camera, utilizing the mounting paranoia along with the inherent claustrophobia in this situation.

Instead, Gibson and his editor can't consistently manage to hold any tension, moving in and out of the plane at random, jumping from the focal points of almost every scene to unnecessary repetitive shots of each character regardless of dramatic purpose. This becomes especially egregious when the veil is lifted and the pilot is revealed to be a criminal sent to stop the Marshal from taking Winston anywhere safe. The early reveal results in a tense and violent outburst that gets derailed almost immediately. And then, instead of doing the smart thing, the Marshal simply cuffs the baddie in back and tries to fly the plane herself. Gibson keeps trying to paint her as an action hero, a moralistic warrior on her way through purgatory to redemption, but she's written to be so stupid that I was grinding my teeth to keep from yelling at the screen. Not everyone in our auditorium was as reticent as me.

The Marshal, Madelyn, is played by Michelle Dockery, who truly does offer a grounded and solid performance here. But I just have to wonder why she chose this production to be part of, when her character doesn't allow Dockery to do much dynamically. Her tough resolve, if anything, does in fact redeem her, though her final lesson in the film seems to be one of self-forgiveness and how letting go of the past will help you see more clearly and purposefully in the present. She's pretty no-nonsense until one crucial moment, which is when her boss connects her via satellite phone with a pilot who can guide her through flying and landing the plane. The pilot is aggressively flirty with her, a choice that at first felt sweet -- he's disarmingly charming, no doubt to get her to breathe and loosen up and not panic -- but as it continues repeatedly, it starts to feel really icky. And Dockery's reaction is so forced and fake in its cutesy little-girl-blushing way that it completely took me out of the movie.

And then there's the part of the film everyone will be talking about. In fact, the marketing for Flight Risk has all but ensured that everyone's here for Mark Wahlberg. His character, left unnamed except for his alias, is disgusting and horrifying. Cartoonishly drawn, his folksy demeanor devolves quickly after his unmasking, when he's revealed as a bloodthirsty psychopath. Wahlberg does fine enough going gonzo for this role, but it feels like he's in a wholly different movie from the straight-laced Dockery and the bleakly comedic Grace. Apart from his bald cap -- which is actually awful and the makeup and hair stylists for this film should be forced to go back to school -- he's disgusting because most of his dialogue consists of explicit sexual threats to rape and dismember both Dockery and Grace. I've already mentioned the borderline problematic suggestion of queer characterization, but this makes the film feel more in line with Deliverance than Flightplan, if you catch my squealing drift.

From a wildly unbalanced cast to a promising premise wholly undone by incompetent direction and editing, Flight Risk simply doesn't work on its own terms. Illogical and blatantly stupid choices abound -- after mercifully keeping the psycho alive despite multiple violent assaults and despite no longer needing him due to the flirty pilot helping her remotely, Dockery still manages to shoot him three times in the climax before he falls out of the plane and gets crushed by rescue vehicles -- and rip any stakes the plot carries right away from its own grasp. A few well-placed jokes aside (and yes, the Spirit Airlines one had me guffaw), the dialogue is almost all gimmick and no substance. If anything, I'd say it's worth a watch for the bizarre turn from Wahlberg, Grace having fun, and Dockery being badass. But she's more exciting in Non-Stop, which is also a better crafted film (Jaume Collet-Serra for the win!) with a similar premise. So, really, do yourself a favor, and miss this flight.