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Captain Chesley Sullenberger or “Sully” has just landed Flight 1594 safely on
top of the Hudson River. The airbus is now filling with water, forcing the
scared passengers to climb out onto the plane’s wing. But Sally isn’t ready to
leave yet. He checks the aisles and calls out to make sure no one is trapped. He
then re-enters the cockpit, collects his folder and puts his arms through his
coat before exiting. In this sequence, it’s Sully’s professionalism and
attention to detail that refuses to succumb to the pressure of extreme
circumstances. While the moment humorously illustrates Sully’s every-man quality
and patience, the scene may have been culled by a less patient filmmaker than
Clint Eastwood. Few contemporary directors in Hollywood are as generous with
their time and as unobtrusive with their camera as Eastwood. With his unfussed
shooting style and selective film techniques intact, he allows Tom Hanks (2015's
Bridge of Spies) to inhabit Sully and retell
the Miracle on the Hudson and the subsequent investigation of the landing. Sully
is a brief, slender film about heroism as an instinctual, unrehearsed act, which
despite its excellent lead performance from Tom Hanks, also feels like a
thematically safe and unadventurous entry from one of the industry’s heavyweight
filmmakers.
The landing is contextualized in the framework of Eastwood’s longest serving
narrative staple: an ordinary man whose bravery transpires from a sense of duty.
The film opens by cutting between its credit sequence on black title cards and
with a plane edging dangerously close to the New York skyline. The sequence,
revealed to be a nightmare of Sully, serves two purposes. It is the first of
several scenes to reference the September 11 terrorist attacks.
Eastwood’s regular cinematographer, Tom Stern, frames the cityscapes with a wide
shot from an IMAX camera to strikingly capture the quiet city lights and the
ghostly sense of dread the terrorist attack evokes as the plane narrows in on
the buildings. Eastwood views the story of the Miracle on the Hudson as a
response to 9/11; it is in his eyes a case study in quick thinking, bravery and
experience in times of danger. But quiet patriotism does not deter him from
exploring character either. The dream sequence amplifies the inner feelings of
Sully, whose self-assurance is regularly assaulted and compromised by his fears
of endangerment as he questions his judgment about landing the plane on the
river. Conflict in the story is visual, through the well-produced but sometimes
fragmented aerial sequences, but also personal as Sully earns reassurance from
his co-pilot Jeff Skiles (Aaron Eckhart, 2008's “The
Dark Knight”) and his wife Lorraine, played by Laura Linney (2015's "Mr.
Holmes"), literally phoning in her role as Sullenberger's wife
Lorraine as she acts all of her scenes over her cell while rattling around their
suburban home. A final moment between the two of them after they are reunited
might have gone a long way in smoothing over the thanklessness of Linney's
participation. The stakes are set high because Sully is being investigated by
narrow-minded officials of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) who
don’t understand his actions and believe he could have landed the plane safely
at LaGuardia Airport. They argue their computer simulations demonstrate the
landing, but they refuse to let him see the program; they also stipulate that
one of the plane’s engines was still functional and refute Sully’s claims it was
destroyed by birds. Consequently, the film’s dramatic conflict is cast between
Sully’s instincts and personal reactions against rules, formalities and
regulations—a war Eastwood himself has regularly fought since starring in Dirty
Harry (1971).
However, the way the film genuflects in front of Sully becomes a limitation of
the narrative. Its fitting that Eastwood sneaks in a visual gag of his film Gran
Torino (2008) because it too dramatized a man’s choice to be heroic. But in the
Hudson story, where 155 people were at risk, some shades of grey could have been
added to Eastwood’s interpretation so the NTSB wouldn’t seem as eye-rolling and
condescending. For example, there’s a long sequence where the Coast Guard gears
up to the aid the passengers huddling together on the wing of the plane as it
begins to sink into the water. This is an action charged time-filler that
despite its restrained nature is a conventional representation of heroism.
Meanwhile, to reassure us th at
Sully is an experienced pilot, Eastwood intercuts two pointless flashbacks of
Sully’s past adventures as a pilot. The more compelling portions of the film are
the two hearing sequences that bookend the story. The camera becomes infatuated
with Tom Hanks, framing his white hair and prickly moustache mostly in medium
close-up shots. Hanks’ performance is one of his best in recent years and also
proves how strong Eastwood is in directing actors. Eastwood’s camera gives Hanks
ample room to find the contradicting emotions in Sully, where his unwavering
belief in his skills and decision-making is undermined by doubt and sadness
agitating his confidence. Hanks is so convincing, resembling Paul Newman at the
end of his career, and the film is entirely adamant about Sully’s bravery that
it becomes a simple and digestible toast to heroism. It shares an agreeable
message that people who set out rules and criticize heroes can’t understand a
dramatic situation until they have experienced it themselves. But like American
Sniper, where the main character was also spurred by 9/11, the politeness
Eastwood has for his subject is putting the brakes on the same narrative risks
and themes this important filmmaker took a few years ago. Films like Mystic
River (2003) and Million Dollar Baby (2004) served to deconstruct his own career
and image by analyzing the ethics and moral consequences of a man’s decision to
take charge. In their company, Sully’s incredible story is a footnote.
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