Gibson’s on autopilot as Wahlberg makes an in-flight meal of his role.
Flight Risk feels like a throwback film, a throwback to the kind of movie I was saying only the other day they don’t make anymore. Quite what attracted infrequent but often Award-winning director Mel Gibson to try out the enduring appeal of the contained thriller – or at least, the belief that simply shoving three people into a confined space and cranking up the paranoia is enough to sustain a film. Flight Risk might aim for high-altitude tension but never quite gains enough lift, weighed down by clunky dialogue, predictable twists, and performances that vary between undercooked and over-seasoned.
Mark Wahlberg takes on the unnamed role of antagonist, posing as Daryl Booth, the pilot who had originally been chartered to fly US Marshal Madolyn Harris (Michelle Dockery) and informant Winston (Topher Grace) across the Alaskan wilderness. It’s not long into the flight before the truth is discovered and naturally things start spiralling out of control. Part criminal conspiracy, part Airplane!-style disaster movie, Flight Risk struggles to establish a consistent tone, ending up a patchwork of half-baked psychological cat-and-mouse tropes, never managing to create the tension it so clearly aspires to.
Wahlberg, breaking from his usual action-hero schtick, attempts to go full villain mode, but his performance is stuck somewhere between menacing and shit-posting X troll. Reportedly much of his dialogue was improvised, with director Gibson praising the darkness Wahlberg was easily able to tap into (I wonder where that comes from) yet also admitting that a lot of Marky Mark’s malarky ended up on the cutting room floor as it went too far. Too far. For Mel Gibson. Let that sink in for a moment.
Wahlberg’s clearly relishing giving voice to some of his worst instincts but there’s a constant sense that he’s acting, rather than embodying the role. His presence lacks the genuine menace needed to sell the character as a true threat and his menace is further undermined by the baffling decision to make him balding. Eschewing a bald cap, Wahlberg actually shaved his head for the role, which would be admirable dedication to the craft if it didn’t look obviously shaved in every scene. It’s the most distractingly botched hair and make-up job since Glenn Howerton’s similarly egregiously crowning in BlackBerry. Meanwhile, Dockery does her best with what she’s given, but her character – the only on-screen woman – feels frustratingly underdeveloped and generic, reduced to little more than an object for Wahlberg’s hitman’s violence and veiled threats. Topher Grace, does at least manage to give the shallow shenanigans a measure of emotional weight and perhaps is the only member of the cast who even remotely justifies this deserving a theatrical release rather than being quietly sold off to streaming anonymity.
Gibson’s direction feels competent but uninspired, almost like he’s directing on autopilot. There’s a workmanlike disinterest to the film that suggests Gibson is fulfilling an obligation in return for getting to do something he might be genuinely passionate about. The cinematography makes a few interesting choices, but too often lets the rugged Alaskan scenery do the heavy lifting visually while the compact environs of the chartered flight feel ironically too small to allow the danger to build.
Perhaps Flight Risk could have worked as a tight, pulpy thriller with a bit more self-awareness, but the film takes itself far too seriously while offering far too little substance. Instead of white-knuckle suspense, we get a sluggish, uneven ride that never fully commits to its potential. If you’re looking for a taut, gripping thriller set in the skies, you’d be better off revisiting Red Eye or Non-Stop because Flight Risk never really gets off the ground.
