The evolution of Mel Gibson as a promising Australian actor, mainstream action star, ambitious filmmaker, tabloid hooligan, conservative folk hero, and unexpected “Special Ambassador to Hollywood” under President Donald Trump is fascinating. Gibson has been around so long that it’s easy to forget that nothing about his rise to stardom was anticipated; that the sensitive young star of Peter Weir dramas became paramount in two major action franchises is miraculous. Gibson’s work in front of the camera has been as unpredictable as the conspiracy theories he’s adopted, given that he’s spiced up his star turn in countless revenge thrillers with the occasional broad comedy like Daddy’s Home 2 or What Women Want. Although Hollywood’s recent defiance of the post-#MeToo, George Floyd era of political correctness has allowed several “cancelled” figures to stage comebacks, it was unlikely that Gibson would mount a return to prominence unless it was on his own terms.
What’s most baffling about Gibson’s latest effort, Flight Risk, is how different it is compared to the rest of his filmography as a director. Even the most stalwart of Gibson’s detractors can admit that the effort, research, and scale he’s poured into his massive historical epics are impressive, even if his takeaways are more dubious. Whether Gibson turned William Wallace into a messianic figure in Braveheart, mischaracterized indigenous cultures in Apocalypto, or incorporated anti-Semitic stereotypes in The Passion of the Christ doesn’t affect his aptitude for immersive history lessons compounded by visceral action.
Shot in 2023, Flight Risk could be mistaken for one of the restricted productions made during the height of Covid, in which minimalistic sets were used so that less cast and crew members were necessary. Although the first few minutes take place in a cheap excuse for a remote cabin location (complete with an egregiously grotesque CGI deer), a majority of Flight Risk is set within the confines of a small airplane on a journey from Anchorage to New York City. U.S. Marshall Madolyn Harris (Michelle Dockery) is responsible for the transportation of the mafia accountant Winston (Topher Grace), who’s agreed to testify in a criminal case in exchange for immunity. The truncated logic of the film has demanded that the conscious flight can only be operated by a local pilot, known initially as Daryl Booth (Mark Wahlberg), who’s not who Madolyn has been meant to believe he is.
Although Gibson has ignored accusations of impropriety and denied being provocative, Flight Risk is sleazy to the point of unintentional humor. Wahlberg’s an actor who can be well-utilized if given the correct part, and has the potential to be great if cast perfectly, which he was as the foul-mouthed Sergeant Dignam in Martin Scorsese’s The Departed. It’s unclear if Wahlberg’s performance in Flight Risk could be described as “good” because Gibson’s intentions with the character are inexplicable, but he’s certainly made choices that are compelling. If Wahlberg’s painfully obtuse attempt at a Texan accent wasn’t off-putting enough, the fact that his shaved head is revealed in a manner that would befit a major plot twist should indicate the tone that Gibson’s aimed for.
The sparseness of the screenplay for Flight Risk, which was optioned as a spec from Jared Rosenberg, meant that the chemistry between the three leads was essential to prevent the film from being an absolute drag. Whether it was a result of Gibson’s inability to attract a wide range of talent, the unrewarding nature of the roles, or a deliberate attempt at subversion, Flight Risk couldn’t have picked three more different actors for its lead roles. Wahlberg might not be doing as interesting work today as in his collaborations with David O. Russell and James Gray, but he’s a known quantity. Dockery’s a student of the British stage who hasn’t been able to escape the shadow of her acclaimed performance in Downton Abbey. Grace, who became a “character actor” shortly after his long-running role on That ‘70s Show, is the most expected choice to play the sniveling supporting role in a work of cheap exploitation, which makes it more confusing why Gibson saddled him with surprisingly emotional material.
The attempts by Grace and Dockery to bring any sense of dignity to Flight Risk are oddly befitting when they’ve been cast as characters who attempt an escape from the seedy criminal underworld. A monologue from Madolyn about a painful memory from a past mission and a dramatic breakdown by Winston about his wasted potential is almost admirable when it’s made clear that Wahlberg’s only interested in being dialed up to 11. The clash between an elemental characterization of purity and flashy violence has been recurrent in Gibson’s films; his last effort, Hacksaw Ridge (which was recognized by the Oscars with Best Picture and Best Director nominations), featured a rosy, picaresque portrayal of the idealized American suburban life before it descended into a horrific spectacle of World War II’s Pacific Theater. Flight Risk is more extreme in its incongruity; a resolute conversation between Dockery and Grace on the ethics of redemption is pierced by the occasionally lewd threats of sexual violence made by Wahlberg while he’s handcuffed to a backseat chair.
There’s a subgenre of low-budget films released on VOD and physical media every year that star the likes of Nicolas Cage, John Travolta, Steven Seagal, John Cusack, and occasionally Mel Gibson. Flight Risk isn’t any better or worse than any of them, but the fact that it was given a theatrical window and topped HBO Max’s streaming charts is a sign that audiences are willing to accept low-effort endeavors if they lack any pretensions of importance. If Gibson and his fellow “Special Ambassadors,” Sylvester Stallone and Jon Voight, programmed a triple-feature of their recent efforts that included Expendables 4, Megalopolis, and Flight Risk, it’d be a damning portrayal of contemporary American cinema.