Jodi Foster can hold tears in her eyes, on the brink of spilling down her perfect little bony cheeks for longer than should be humanly possible. I love her.
The movie itself has a great premise but it seemed as if the writers ran out of time or lost the love in the second half a bit. The first half is suspenseful in the old hitchcockian style, the second seems to have standard modern thriller written right in. Still watchable, though.
J's pilot friends were in town this weekend. They fly a jet owned by some guy who happened to have business in Madison. In retrospect, it made sense that they shied away from a movie about planes- if you have to get in one every day and you have to be the guy who knows everything that goes wrong, no sense in watching some one else's nightmare.
If you are looking for a movie to rent, see Crash. (The one made recently, I think there's an older unrelated one.) It is an excellent outworking of multiple creative plot ideas on race and culture in LA. I want to own it, and loan it to all my friends, like a good book.
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