I first saw Air Force One at the Admiral Twin drive-in, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. As movie-going experiences go, this was about as American as it gets: Harrison Ford, playing a two-fisted president, pummeling goateed sleazebags aboard a red, white, and blue airliner. The teenage version of me would’ve slapped four stars on this review and called it a day. Now, of course, things are murkier. The film’s hijacking and decapitated government can’t play as popcorn entertainment anymore. Those elements of the plot have aged like brown bananas; others reveal gaping holes in logic and characterization. That leaves Air Force One as a relic of the halcyon 90s, and an unfortunate barometer of how sober and cynical our culture has become.
More on that in a bit. For anybody not familiar with the story, it’s achingly simple. As President James Marshall, Ford plays the kind of leader we’d build out of a kit: He’s intelligent, grounded, charismatic, handsome, principled, and courageous. As the movie opens, Marshall speaks in Red Square, taking a hard line against the bad guys of the world. “We are not afraid. It’s your turn to be afraid.”
Conveniently, the bad guys are up for the challenge. Egor Korshunov (Gary Oldman) is a radical Soviet terrorist who misses the heyday of Russia’s Cold War glory. He leads a team of scowling minions to Air Force One, where they pose as journalists. Once Marshall and his team go airborne, Korshunov leads a Die Hard assault to take over the plane and assemble his valuable hostages.
Once the hijacking begins, Marshall’s protection team immediately attempts to get him off the plane. Turns out, Air Force One features an escape pod you might otherwise find on the Starship Enterprise. (This is probably the least believable thing in the movie. And that, my precious readers, is saying something.) Of course, Marshall can’t leave the plane, or else this’d be a really short flick. I mean, I’d admire the ballsiness of it, but…
Anybody who’s seen enough of this genre knows that Marshall has to become a one-man army. That means we get an extended stretch of the president pummeling and perforating commie bad guys. And let’s be honest, this is what you paid to see, amirite?
There’s only one fly buzzing in the minestrone: Marshall has some very precious cargo aboard. That’s right, woodchuck chuckers! The First Lady (Wendy Crewson) and First Daughter (Liesel Matthews) have been taken hostage. Now, Marshall has to retake the plane without getting his family killed in the process.
Cut to Washington DC. As you might guess, the West Wing is in a tizzy. As rescue teams try to locate the president, a power struggle erupts between the vice president (Glenn Close) and the secretary of defense (Dean Rockwell). This mirrors the real-life chaos that ensued after the assassination attempt on Ronald Reagan. (Secretary of State Alexander Haig famously stepped up to the presidential podium and announced that he was now in charge.) Further, it is suggested that President Marshall relinquish his authority until the crisis abates, thus invoking the 25th Amendment. Rockwell’s character strongly pushes for the transition, while the vice president balks at pushing Marshall aside.
Here’s where the movie gets into some wonky territory. Screenwriter Andrew Marlowe paints the secretary of defense as a villain, as if this could be a Machiavellian power grab on his part. Conversely, Close character is played as the noble hero, refusing to sign the necessary paperwork. Thing is, whatever his motivation, Rockwell’s character is absolutely right. This is exactly the purpose of the 25th Amendment. Marshall is making decisions as a husband and father, and he should be relieved for someone with more clarity.
Here I am, trying plug logic into a movie like Air Force One. You’re onboard to watch Harrison Ford smack guys in black cargo pants and fire off badass one-liners. Additionally, you want Gary Oldman growling in a moose-and-squirrel accent and chewing the scenery. Check and check. That’s why a movie like this so hard to knock. It delivers exactly what the people want. That goes ditto for director Wolfgang Petersen’s brawny action scenes and Jerry Goldsmith’s rum-tum-tum music score. I remember leaving the Admiral Twin thinking I’d just seen a solid summer blockbuster.
Still, there’s no way around it: That was a different time. It’s 2024 and we have to watch Air Force One with different eyes. We’re wearier now, and angrier. That makes this movie’s vacuous jingoism impossible to take seriously. Air Force One still has some value as a nostalgia piece. If you can idle your brain, some of it will still be exciting. That said, this movie’s lost just a little of its luster.
124 min. R. Tubi.