Did anyone else see this gem of a made-for-TV Disaster last night? (10/2)
All Summer, my girlfriend and I have been in search of bad Sunday night movies. They’re usually on CBS, and they’re just as well done as Lifetime Original Movies, except instead of abusive husbands the villains are Killer Nuclear Mosquitos with freakin’ Tornado Beams on Their Heads.
I’ve posted before about Shark Attack and Locusts. And we all remember 10.5, in which all of California fell into the ocean, and all the refugees in Arizona gasped at the beauty of the newly formed beach. Truly a mustardpiece.
So last night was Mayday. The plot: Some newfangled commercial jet was taking passengers from LA to Tokyo, or something like that (who cares?). The plane was full of the requisite people with relationship problems, who promised to patch things up or get a divorce or whatever once they landed safely. One guy was a middle aged man who was estranged from his son. Coincidentally, he was a rusty former weekend small-plane pilot who was grizzled and cynical. This is such a new and unique plot device that Shirley no one would ever spoof it.
I’m not going to go into all of the bad stuff, but if any pilots saw this they can comment on things like what yaw really is and whether commercial jets would have afterburners. So I’ll concentrate on two main plot points.
First of all, The Military was testing a new air-to-air missile. The zone they were testing is was for military use only (in open ocean?), but was adjacent to commercial airspace. Of course, the missle was programmed to ignore all commercial craft. Yes, folks, that’s trouble a-brewin’ right there. The results were predictable. A hole got blown throught fuselage, a number of passengers got sucked out, and both pilots were dead. So far so boring.
Now folks, if movies have taught us anything, it’s that The Military always has one high-ranking guy who always wants to bomb someone “For the sake of the greater good.” This is Col. Triggerhappy. This movie was no exception. Col. T was giving orders to fighter pilots to shoot the “derelict ship” out of the skies, despite protestations of the fighter pilots. Col. T’s plans were thwarted. Temporarily.
Naturally, Mr. Weekendpilot was the only person who could land the plane. With the help of some Very Cute Stewardesses, he took control of the cockpit. His plan was to land in San Francisco, with the help of the control tower. Unfortunately, the radio was dead, and cell phones were out of range. Good thing one of the cute stewardesses told him about the kewl new text messaging capabilities of the cockpit. Now they could send messages like “RU pttng flps dwn?” and “UR hot.” Hey, now you can land a plane and check your e-mail at the same time. “You’ve got no fuel!”
This brings us to the second plot point. For some reason, an insurance agent from the airline was in the control tower. Her take on the situation? If the plane went down in open water, they could blame it on pilot error. No radio transmissions means no paper trail, right? But if the plane landed in SF and crashed, thousands of people could be injured, and some might need hospital care for years, and that might spell disaster for the firm’s actuarial tables. No, better to bring the plane down now.
So here was the conspiracy between the control tower, The Evil Military, and Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe, all trying to bring the plane down. Mostly they used text messages like “Try cutting power to the engines. That might help.” And the moronic weekend pilot tried it!
Soon the weekend pilot and the busty stewardesses realized the nature of the conspiracy. One said “If we land, we’ll never be able to prove it!” “Oh yeah?”, said the other. She then pressed the Print button on the console and out popped a printout of the text messages. Yeah, there’s proof right there!
So anyway the good guys landed the plane, which skidded across the runway in a sea of sparks. It avoided landing in the Bay by a margin of – well, guess how far? Please submit your answer in centimeters.
As soon as they were safe, the pilot was immediately called by his son who reconciled, he got big hugs from the stewardesses, and all was right with the world.
I give it a 10.5.