Air-traffic controllers are probably one of the last candidates for cinematic enshrinement, but in Mike Newell's "Pushing Tin", these control-tower pencil-pushers finally get their due. Of course the movies have not foresworn the use of air-traffic control characters altogether: those of the movie-going public who fondly look back on Renny Harlin's action-packed "Die Hard 2" can remember the background scenery which periodically ganged up against Bruce Willis in his efforts to pop a cap in the finely-tuned proverbial asses of the elite corps using the airport operations against them. "Pushing Tin" tries to take a more realistic approach to the situation, portraying the chronic fatigue and dastardly human on-the-job interferences which even John McClane can't protect us against. It's a good idea (apparently inspired by a New York Times article), yet "Pushing Tin" has decidedly unoriginal things to say once its various protagonists leave the office.
John Cusack inhabits the high-strung, talkative liberal main character which has been his trademark performance since "The Sure Thing". Indeed he has a beautiful wife (Cate Blanchett) and a reputation for being the best and brightest of the tower, but hence it's not enough once the foreboding Billy Bob Thornton steps in. Thornton's character represents a challenge for Cusack, one that eventually relegates itself into Cusack's bed-hopping with his alcoholic loose-cannon of a wife (Angelina Jolie). Indeed, as in most movies of this calibre, such an action spells doom for Cusack's marriage, just another visible stumbling block in a comedy which applies its plot conflicts with a trowel.
Written by Glen and Les Charles (the creative forces between one of television's finest sitcoms "Cheers"), the film retains a meanderingly enjoyable tone its first hour before its mechanics set in. Indeed Cusack is a likable character, and the chemistry he exudes with his buddies seems to be genuine. But just like the inevitable sounds of a failing propellor, one begins to suspect the film's real intentions even while Jolie (a presence so dynamic she deserves more screen time than all the other characters put together) illuminates the screen.
The film builds up to its climax with--of all things-- a bomb at the airport. This is obviously where the "Die Hard" motif comes in, as I was half expecting good old Mr. Willis to burst through the door armed with a pair of tweezers and that "Sixth Sense" kid proclaiming the dead reception he prognosticates with this utter cardboard-cutout of a plot.
Mike Newell's career has been built into breathing fresh air into the most overdone of plots. His "Four Weddings and a Funeral" (though a tad overrated) used the standard romantic conception as a backdrop for Hugh Grant's bashful witticism. And his "Donnie Brasco" (one of the better recent Mafia movies) refused to simplify the guidelines of that specific genre by shaping it as a philosophic tragedy of conscience. How ironic it is, then, when he's unable to purvey the original concept of "Pushing Tin" above anything other than a standard sitcom. Of course this is understandable due to its screenwriters' backgrounds, but in the end excuses do not make up for shallowness. There's a certain preposterous ethic when making a movie about normal characters "Pushing Tin" claims to be about that requires a multitude of spice in order to render the material more palatable to Hollywood. Unfortunately, I would have virtually no problem with simply holding up a mirror to regular characters: I've always sympathized more with the disheveled guy on the sidewalk bench than any phony movie-star confection. Unfortunately, the fundamental problem with "Pushing Tin" is that it goes out on a limb looking for the extraordinary when the ordinary would have done just fine.
John Cusack inhabits the high-strung, talkative liberal main character which has been his trademark performance since "The Sure Thing". Indeed he has a beautiful wife (Cate Blanchett) and a reputation for being the best and brightest of the tower, but hence it's not enough once the foreboding Billy Bob Thornton steps in. Thornton's character represents a challenge for Cusack, one that eventually relegates itself into Cusack's bed-hopping with his alcoholic loose-cannon of a wife (Angelina Jolie). Indeed, as in most movies of this calibre, such an action spells doom for Cusack's marriage, just another visible stumbling block in a comedy which applies its plot conflicts with a trowel.
Written by Glen and Les Charles (the creative forces between one of television's finest sitcoms "Cheers"), the film retains a meanderingly enjoyable tone its first hour before its mechanics set in. Indeed Cusack is a likable character, and the chemistry he exudes with his buddies seems to be genuine. But just like the inevitable sounds of a failing propellor, one begins to suspect the film's real intentions even while Jolie (a presence so dynamic she deserves more screen time than all the other characters put together) illuminates the screen.
The film builds up to its climax with--of all things-- a bomb at the airport. This is obviously where the "Die Hard" motif comes in, as I was half expecting good old Mr. Willis to burst through the door armed with a pair of tweezers and that "Sixth Sense" kid proclaiming the dead reception he prognosticates with this utter cardboard-cutout of a plot.
Mike Newell's career has been built into breathing fresh air into the most overdone of plots. His "Four Weddings and a Funeral" (though a tad overrated) used the standard romantic conception as a backdrop for Hugh Grant's bashful witticism. And his "Donnie Brasco" (one of the better recent Mafia movies) refused to simplify the guidelines of that specific genre by shaping it as a philosophic tragedy of conscience. How ironic it is, then, when he's unable to purvey the original concept of "Pushing Tin" above anything other than a standard sitcom. Of course this is understandable due to its screenwriters' backgrounds, but in the end excuses do not make up for shallowness. There's a certain preposterous ethic when making a movie about normal characters "Pushing Tin" claims to be about that requires a multitude of spice in order to render the material more palatable to Hollywood. Unfortunately, I would have virtually no problem with simply holding up a mirror to regular characters: I've always sympathized more with the disheveled guy on the sidewalk bench than any phony movie-star confection. Unfortunately, the fundamental problem with "Pushing Tin" is that it goes out on a limb looking for the extraordinary when the ordinary would have done just fine.