Turbulence (1997)

1997's second-most famous movie about a sociopathic felon (played by an iconic Hollywood star) taking control of the aircraft carrying him across the country and forcing the protagonist to fight to minimize the number of innocent victims, Turbulence has mostly (and understandably) been forgotten. But unlike Con Air, Turbulence was set on Christmas Eve (aggressively so, as we'll discuss in a bit), so that's the one we're going to be talking about.

I should acknowledge comparisons to Con Air are entirely surface level: Turbulence is a relatively contained suspense movie owing as much or more to '70s disaster flicks as '80s action, while Con Air is a grandiose action/adventure that seems to wear its "Die Hard on a plane" designation like a badge of honor. Turbulence has a minimal cast and with minor alterations could probably have been made on a shoestring budget, though somehow they managed to balloon this into costing 55 million dollars (roughly 110 million in 2025 money). That's still not a ton, but considering how small the story is, the added expense for a handful of effects shots seems not only wasted but counterproductive. This would almost certainly been a better film if they'd doubled down on a claustrophobic tone, rather than cutting to exterior shots of the plane and the like. But that's Hollywood for you.

Granted, this was the era when you could produce a 55 million dollar film, make 11 million at the box office, and still justify a couple direct-to-video sequels (no idea if those were set at Christmas). I know it's become fashionable to complain about the state of the industry now, but the forgotten reality is Hollywood was essentially playing on easy mode throughout the home video era. The films that endured from that decade are not reflective of the typical quality, and stuff that would now fail to garner attention on Netflix used to wind up in theaters.

The premise here is a bit more complicated than I made it sound in the opening sentence. Actually, come to think of it, the premise might be more complex and interesting than the movie, which seems to lose sight of what it's supposed to be doing almost immediately. At its core, the idea is to play with the similarities and differences between romantic comedy and horror. The antagonist, Ryan (played by Ray Liotta), is introduced somewhat ambiguously as a character who could be either a generic love interest or a serial killer. The police proclaim the latter, while he claims he's being set up. I should note that claim is half true - we eventually learn the evidence that convicted him was planted by a detective. Though the movie also makes sure it lets us know that detective planted the evidence knowing Ryan was guilty, and further that within the world of this movie, that was a morally correct act.

That's the '90s for you.

The detective is a minor character. Because he assaulted Ryan during the arrest (again, we're supposed to accept this as an ethical expression), he's not allowed on the same flight. Instead, Ryan is escorted on a massive 747 by four federal agents, who are also bringing a second prisoner. That would be Stubbs, played by the legendary Brendon Gleeson, who at least seems to be having fun with his character's accent. Stubbs is a rough, hardened criminal who delights in scaring civilians. Ryan, on the other hand, acts like a typical nice guy, though he's a bit too nosey and inquisitive. He takes an immediate interest in Teri (played by Lauren Holly, making this the rare holiday movie where the lead actress has a more seasonally appropriate name than her character), a flight attendant who recently broke up with her fiancé. Teri seems at least willing to entertain the possibility that Ryan is an innocent man being framed.

Other than that, there are three other flight attendants, the pilot and co-pilot, and three - yes, THREE - passengers flying from New York to Los Angeles on Christmas Eve on a massive 747 capable of carrying hundreds of people. 

I know. Believe me, I know. But if we try interrogating every plot hole in this thing, we'll be here until next Christmas. So let's just move on.

Before long, Stubbs turns the tables on the agents. In the ensuing chaos, the agents are killed by Stubbs, who's shot by Ryan to prevent him from opening the cabin door. Throughout this, Ryan appears to be trying to de-escalate the situation, though it's pretty obvious to the audience that he's doing so to gain the flight attendants' trust. Somewhat improbably, the pilot and co-pilot wind up dead, as well, a fact Ryan keeps to himself.

From here on out, it's mind games and the occasional fight as Ryan tries to gain Teri's trust while Teri slowly realizes that he's actually intending to kill everyone and crash the plane in LA to murder thousands.

This becomes an issue conceptually, as the last act requires us to identify with Teri as she argues for the chance to land the plane rather than be shot down, despite believing she's the only one left other than Ryan (she's wrong - most of the attendants and the three passengers are locked in the back of the plane, but she thinks they're dead), and the odds are stacked against her. By this point, she's made matters significantly worse by ignoring the authorities on the ground to open the cockpit door after Ryan falsely claimed her friend (an attendant Ryan secretly strangled to death) was hurt and asking for Teri's help. She's effectively arguing her life is more important than that of thousands below.

At any rate, she ultimately overcomes Ryan, as well as her own opposition to the death penalty, and manages to shoot him in the head with a gun that... look, let's just say Chekhov would be pleased at how much effort was poured into establishing this thing (along with the bullet, which goes through its own story arc before being reunited with the firearm). She then manages to land the plane with the help of a pilot on radio, a woman in the LA control tower, and a fighter jet pilot who opts to shoot a Ford truck off her landing gear rather than shoot her out of the sky as ordered.

I... probably should explain how the truck got stuck on the landing gear. But I'm not going to. Because it's all just part of the noise and an excuse for the kind of effects-driven mayhem that kills any chance for this to work as a character-driven suspense, outside of the one scene where it kind of briefly does.

That scene is the one where Ryan forces Teri into a conversation while the plane is going through a massive storm, causing the plane lights and Christmas lights to flicker ominously while It's a Wonderful Life plays. The topics Ryan asks about are primarily mundane, and he insists he just wants to talk to her (though by this point she knows that isn't true). Even setting aside the implicit threat, he demands the conversation occur on his terms. He insults Teri any time she replies to a question with a question, as if wanting to know why he's asking weren't a perfectly rational response. He's condescending throughout the exchange. He becomes, in short, a symbol of male entitlement and arrogance.

The fact this is occurring in an airplane in danger of falling out of the sky at any minute, coupled with the fact we know his character is a serial killer, reduces common chauvinistic behavior to its absurd nature. For this one scene, it feels like the movie has something to say, exploring the fear expressed by women who feel trapped by a strange man.

On top of that, this sequence, in isolation, is visually disturbing, making good use of the holiday decorations that somewhat inexplicably permeate the empty aircraft (seriously: this movie is decked out like a Hallmark Christmas movie). It's the only portion of the movie that's at all effective at conveying a sense of unease.

Everything else in the movie, however, falls somewhere on a spectrum between "doesn't work in context" and "doesn't work at all." The former is good description of Liotta's transformation into an unhinged madman as the movie progresses. Through most of the second half, it feels like he's using this as an opportunity to audition for a role as a Batman villain. And, to his credit, that at least means something interesting is on screen. It makes very little sense in the broader scope of the picture, but any hope of this working as a whole was already shot so you might as well try and salvage a few moments.

I'm not going to try and cover everything that falls completely flat, but there are a few details I want to highlight. The movie goes out of its way to tell us multiple times that Ryan typically rapes his female victims in addition to killing them. This doesn't really provide us insight into his character, nor does the film offer any kind of meaningful commentary on sexual violence. Instead, it comes off as an exploitative detail that becomes more exploitative as the film progresses. During the scene where Ryan murders a flight attendant, we see her legs extending out of the bathroom as he's choking her. The shot, along with the earlier exposition, implies he's raping her, despite the fact that doesn't seem to be what's occurring.

Then, since this movie wasn't trashy enough, there's a later sequence in which Teri pretends to seduce Ryan to trick him. During this sequence, she outright tells him he doesn't have to force himself on her, just agree to help land the plane. Even setting aside the problematic nature of having a female character weaponize her sexuality (almost always an excuse to frame the actress in a tantalizing way, as is absolutely the case here), none of this makes any sense with Ryan's character. We're told and shown that Ryan is obsessed with winning the trust and even love of his victims, so if he's raping them, it wouldn't be for sexual gratification. Shouldn't Teri be trying to leverage his need for his victims to build emotional attachments?

It's one of many ways in which the movie seems oblivious to its own premise. This is meant to be a film about the line between romantic comedy and horror, isn't it? An acknowledgement that predators manipulate and control their victims' love and trust, filtered through a prism of holiday romcom tropes? But the romance stuff is barely a footnote here: a couple minutes at the beginning that don't even qualify as a misdirect because the score cues us into the fact the handsome guy with a teddy bear isn't what he seems.

It's kind of a shame, because there's a great deal to explore surrounding the line between romantic comedy and horror. After all, both genres have roots in Gothic romance. This is an idea holiday movies have begun touching on, but there's still a great deal more to cover. This seems to sense that but utterly fails to deliver on its premise.

You'd be far better off watching the 2005 Wes Craven film, Red Eye, which starts with a similar premise but takes it in a much more interesting direction. But sadly Red Eye isn't set at Christmas.