The Man Without a Face
In 2024, in full promotion of Love in the presentAndrew Garfield called for the right to redemption for Gibson, who gave him one of his best roles in You will not kill. Recently elected Hollywood disciple of Donald Trump alongside Sylvester Stallone and Jon Voight (the younger generation, that is!), the artist visibly prefers to return through the back door. Exit therefore the great historical frescoes which have made it successful since Braveheartprobably due to lack of funding.
A troublesome witness on the run, an express extradition on a whim, a more than shady pilot… High risk flight has everything from the concept B series as it abounds in DVD bins at 5 euros. In fact, the only difference between him and them is the name printed large on the poster.
Although we are very far from the exciting works that made up Gibson's filmography up until now (as a director at least…), the modesty inherent in this type of film does not systematically make them rubbish, quite the contrary. . The B-series disaster has its lot of pearlsor in the absence of effective entertainment.
Unfortunately, High risk flight is not one of those. Following a screenplay by Jared Rosenberg included in the « Black List » Hollywood (a list of the most popular unrealized scenarios established by survey), the filmmaker did not have to embark on a new mythological study of violence to prove that he is still, despite his escapades, an excellent director. All he had to do was have fun with his concept and get some great sequences of suspense and action from it. It never happens.
Lower risk consumption
Almost as much on autopilot as his characters, he lazily unpacks his telephonic story from start to finish and whose interest ultimately lies less in the show sequences, often very ugly, than in his lame jokes. Yes, we are very sorry to announce that Mel Gibson's sixth film is one of those vaguely ironic B-movies who voluntarily mimic the archetypes of the genre to beg for a knowing laugh.
-Michelle Dockery is solely responsible for moving the plot forward with shaky dialogue (the Egyptian pilot subplot, embarrassing), while Topher Grace and Mark Wahlberg play the zouaves in the back. The first in the role of the whiner unable to shut up, the second in the role of the psychopath who always leaves enough time for his victims to turn against him.
The plot may try to incorporate pseudo-Nanardesque gags aimed at fans ofactions uninhibited, the latter will quickly detect the scheme. No, the famous moumoute does not have the potential to become a memeno more than the forced histrionics of Wahlberg, far too cynical to extract the slightest smile. Nicolas Cage doesn't want to. Lacking moments of worthy bravery, we make up for it at the end, more frankly naughty (finally!), telling ourselves that nothing in the film is distressing enough to really bore. That's already it.
Followers of transversal analysis will see in the twists and turns of the last act a whiff of conspiracy. Informed film buffs will see it as a heartbreaking narrative cliché. Because it was precisely Gibson's faith and political paradoxes that made his films, if not fascinating, at least vectors of debate. Promoted to mascot, the filmmaker obviously doesn't even have enough to arouse the slightest scandal, or even any discussion, or even a semblance of interest.
