At the end of the film
Toomey says, "We'll talk". And Stack says, unhappily, "Yeah". Is Stack in trouble and about to get demoted? The acting in the scene is ambiguous.
shareToomey says, "We'll talk". And Stack says, unhappily, "Yeah". Is Stack in trouble and about to get demoted? The acting in the scene is ambiguous.
shareIt sounds as if he's in a little trouble, though of course at that point Toomey has no idea what went on in the cabin, and I kind of doubt anyone would mention it -- except maybe Stack himself. As the pilot, he is of course responsible for his aircraft as well as his conduct in the emergency. I think he'd own up to his somewhat shaky behavior. How much that might have impacted his career is anybody's guess. I suspect Wayne would have gone to bat for him.
Though it would be hard to pass up the opportunity to report that the Captain just blew his stack.
I've wondered about this as well.
Technically, John Wayne's character of Dan committed mutiny.
Sullivan as the pilot in command had lawful authority-- it was his decision to ditch.
He had a damaged aircraft and was losing fuel. According to all info that he had at the time, he couldn't make San Francisco. And even if he did decide to try, there was every possibility of running out of fuel short of the runway and coming down in a well populated area, probably killing everyone on board and perhaps taking a lot of civilian lives on the ground.
He had the rescue plane on his wing, and he knew that closer in to shore the water would be colder and rougher.
With all that, it's hard to fault his initial call to ditch.
Yet ditching was hardly an attractive option-- the likely hood of killing all on board was very high in a rough sea at night.
So it was a tough call-- a judgement call. But the captain didn't make it-- Dan did. The Captain decided to go along with it after the fact.
Now here is where it gets interesting.
The Operations Manager is going to want a report-- why the Captain made the call that he did. 30 gallons of fuel was all that he had when he landed. He could have easily crashed into a housing development. So that is what I think Sullivan is reacting to when he's told they will have a "talk". He's going to have to explain his actions and possibly the role his co-pilot played in his decision making. What's he going to say? How's he going to frame it? Not something he's looking forward to.
And as for Dan-- is he finished flying? He's really to old to be a co-pilot. This incident really brought that in to focus-- it was his experience and judgement that played a crucial role but it still doesn't sit right. He DID take command and make the crucial call. You can't just look the other way about that.
And perhaps Dan doesn't want to fly anymore-- he's perhaps atoned for his crash by saving this flight. Perhaps that's enough to balance the books in his own mind.
So when the operations managers says, "so long, you ancient pelican..." does he mean that Dan is finished, one way or another?.
Whatever the unanswered questions, it is clear that the operations manager has a deep respect for Dan-- you see it in his eyes.
AE36
That's an interesting take on it, ae.
I wonder whether Dan did commit mutiny, even technically. I guess it depends on how narrowly -- or is it broadly? -- one construes what constitutes mutiny. In my view, Dan didn't so much take command of the plane (which would unquestionably have been mutiny) as pull the Captain back to his senses when he had clearly lost control of himself and was not making decisions with a clear head.
Obviously Roman didn't agree that they should ditch at that point -- but he wasn't saying they might not eventually ditch, only arguing to give it some more time to see if it was really necessary. I think the real issue was that the Captain was panicking, making poor judgments and acting precipitously, which would make for a bad situation even if ditching were the right thing to do at that time.
In short, it wasn't Dan substituting his judgment about what they ultimately should do (which remained an open question) as simply knocking Sullivan back to reality, forcing him to get control of himself and stop him from doing something rash that would likely have catastrophic consequences. Roman didn't take command, didn't even get his way at that point (that is, a firm decision not to ditch); he simply acted to insure the safety of the plane. If Sullivan was so panicked in flight, it would affect his ability to execute a crash landing on water and reduce their already slim chances of survival. Thanks to his intervention, Sullivan calmed down, got his head clear, and was able to make the kind of cool decisions he would have to. Regardless of what they wound up doing, even "going into the drink", at least Sullivan would do it in a calm and professional manner.
So basically I put their little flare-up as a brief fight, a slap between friends, with Roman legitimately worried about Sullivan's mental state and ability to make, not the "right" decision, but a considered one: to think things through calmly, methodically plan what he intends to do, and follow through with informed and deliberate professionalism -- not just steer the plane down into the ocean in an abrupt, hasty state of panic, as he actually started to do. I don't know the protocols but if a Captain is not in control of himself I think the co-pilot can legitimately intervene to act in the best interests of the passengers and crew.
I expect both men would have played down the incident, omitted the slap part, smoothed over their differences and the intensity of the moment. But I kind of suspect the operations manager would have understood what had gone on. Sullivan's behavior might have been a minor black mark against him but I doubt it would have seriously harmed his career. And I don't believe Roman felt he had to atone for anything. Instead, I think the whole flight gave him a renewed assurance, purged his own demons, and left him content with his lot and looking forward to continuing flying.
Rather than start a whole new thread for it, I'll just mention here one other part of the ending: the interminable, one-by-one, couple-by-couple, offloading of the passengers. I kept listening for shouts from the back of the line, inside the plane, "Hey, you, up front! While I'm still young - ya know what I mean?!? Molasses uphill in the winter moves faster! Let's move, move, move!!!" Or something to that effect.
shareI take your point, but a more realistic depiction of them all filing out in a steady stream makes for uncompelling cinema.
This way, an emotional coda is provided for each, in which their psychological states immediately following the ordeal can be revealed: Mae, putting her best foot forward as always; Lydia and Howard Rice, back to bickering; Sally, still terrified and ready to bolt; Gustave and Lillian professionally practiced in their perfunctory dealings with the press; the Josephs' nerves stained to the breaking point and so on.
Poe! You are...avenged!
I don't think Stack was in trouble. Just the opposite. If he were in trouble, it would have been, "Let's talk now!" Instead, it was, take some time off, go see your wife, we'll sort through this later. How could Stack be blamed for what was obviously a mechanical failure? There may have been a serious question of whether he should have ditched, rather than landing on fumes, but considering the outcome- no casualties, and the plane was saved- I expect any doubts about his judgement would be kept unofficial. Consider too that one of the airline's major stock holders (David Brian) was a passenger who was saved. More likely, Stack would be hailed a hero. In a case like this, I expect public opinion would override corporate concerns. Sort of a 'Miracle on the Hudson' situation. Ultimately, the press would portray the airline in a favorable light- saving all those people- and that's what would matter. If Stack was to be censured for his actions, it would be in an "off the record" way.
share