Original subtitles

My name's mcvey. I'm due to fly to Washington.

We were just about to check you off the roster.

The chief here was all set to take your place.

Sorry, chief.

Let's see. Flight 8255. Commander Heath.

Commander Dale Heath?

The El toro guy?

He's all yours.

I wouldn't go up with him if they made me a j.G.

Thanks for showing up, sailor.

What's he mean? Who's this--

Heath.

3 years ago, commander Heath was involved

in a mid-air crash with a b-66 over El toro.

The air force lost 3 guys that day.

Well, isn't there anyone else flying to Washington?

Tomorrow 0900.

I may be able to get you on.

But I've got to go home today.

Look, buddy, if you want to fly today,

you'd better report to the parachute loft

and drew a hard hat and mask.

If you want to wait for another ride, ok,

but I can't guarantee anything.

Any chance, Cheryl?

Chance for what?

Picking up the pieces of this marriage of ours,

starting all over again.

Are you asking for your sake, Dale,

for my sake,

or for Ann's sake?

I'm asking.

You ask nicely.

You always did.

No answer?

Ann wants to go away to boarding school.

To get away from me.

I'd like to let her go.

I'm sure you would.

I ordered a new convertible for your birthday.

[Cheryl giggles]

Did you buy me the car for a bribe?

Do you think i'd trade my daughter for a brand-new convertible?

Well, before you bargain, I'd better tell you.

I took myself to a little old lawyer Tuesday.

I told him you caught me flagrante delicto

and how could I keep my dear husband from being able to divorce me?

His advice?

To persuade you to spend a night with me.

He had a nice word for it: Condonation.

I've forgiven. No divorce for adultery.

Legally.

Last night was the little old night.

Last night was the last night.

Oh, it was?

Besides which, I wasn't about to divorce you, Cheryl.

Maybe I'm sick.

Turned out to be a rotten job,

but it's my job.

And is it supposed to be my job waiting here alone,

afraid to answer the phone because it might be some strange voice

telling me my husband is dead?

No, Dale, I can't stand any more loneliness or fear.

I'm sorry.

I hate hurting you.

Not so the eye can see.

Some people are born without much sight,

some without much hearing.

Apparently, I was born without much sense of right and wrong.

I just can't help myself.

That may be an explanation.

I know, Dale, it's no excuse.

But it's all I have.

Ann, I was about to give up.

You're almost the last one out.

Debbie had a problem, dad. She wanted my opinion.

Should she go steady or should she go steadily with Larry?

What's the difference?

When you go steady with a boy, you talk on the phone every night.

When you go steadily, you go to the movies every Saturday afternoon.

Oh. But, uh, either way, he has to give you

an identification bracelet with his name on it.

Oh, sure.

Like this?

Oh, daddy, it's beautiful!

I, um, don't suppose you'd like to have lunch with me.

I don't suppose you'd like to ditch school this afternoon.

You're going away again.

Yep.

When? Where?

Sometime this afternoon.

Flying a jet.

Stops at El Paso, Memphis, then on to Washington.

I'll be commuting between Washington and the mediterranean fleet.

I thought you might be going, but not so soon.

Neither did I.

You love tamales. Let's have lunch at the Mexican...

Oh, I forgot what tamales do to your stomach at 41,000.

I'll be flying at 21,000.

Down there, the tamales will barely rumble.

Still want to go away to boarding school?

I sent for dozens of catalogs.

Miss pierson's school, that's for me.

Why?

She specializes in Navy brats,

takes them from all over the world.

Where is miss pierson's?

Washington.

I want to be near you when you bounce in from the mediterranean.

How did you happen to send for her catalog?

I didn't know myself I'd be in Washington,

not till the admiral sprang it on me this morning.

How did you know?

Secrets in this here Navy.

What about your mother?

What about her?

Well, her in San Diego, you in Washington.

How does she feel?

She couldn't care less.

Ann, that's not true. Your mother loves you very much.

You must know that.

You've got to try to understand how difficult it is

for an attractive woman

to be separated from her husband so much of the time.

Let's face it, dad. Mother and I just don't dig each other.

Just no getting the message.

Sometimes...

What?

Going away to school mean that much to you?

I want to be in Washington.

I want to be near you more than anything else in the world.

[Thinking] Mother's so wrong for you.

She keeps trying to rip you apart.

Why'd you ever marry her?

Dale: I don't think you'll do it for this hunk of painted steel.

I think you might if it were best for her.

Dale...

If anything should ever happen to you,

am I supposed to let Ann stay in that school

and not make her come back?

I wish you'd promise me that.

To my naked eye, you've kept every promise but one.

The one I vowed to the little old preacher in the academy chapel.

That's it.

Dear husband, don't dredge that up again.

I told you, you should have talked to some legal eagle like I did.

You shouldn't have spent last night with me.

That revowed all the early vows.

What about Ann? I said I'd take your word.

Why does the truth about yourself always pinch so much?

The truth is that Ann would be better off away from me.

I know it.

And you knew I'd agree.

Yes, I did.

In that case, pay the man. I'll take the car.

[Honks horn]

Don't forget, check with Caesar.

He's making all the arrangements for your boarding school.

You're the greatest.

The greatest.

I'm commander Heath. Glad to have you aboard.

Thank you, sir. My name's mcvey.

Ever flown a jet before?

No, sir. First time.

Well, mcvey, we're flying I.F.R.

Instrument flight rules.

We're under control of air traffic centers all the way.

Those boys have a tremendous responsibility.

They do a great job.

Fly at even altitudes--

22,000 feet, 20,000, 18,000.

And all planes flying east like US fly at odd altitudes--

21,000, 19,000, 17,000.

So we always have 1,000 feet of protection above US and below

and 10 minutes of flying time behind US and 10 ahead.

Understand?

Yes, sir.

That's why 100,000 planes

fly every day in these United States.

Just about all of them get where they're going on schedule.

But the book has an automatic speech from pilot to passenger.

So here goes.

If I say eject, eject,

or the first thing you'll see is me shooting past you.

First lean forward, bite your toes.

You'll hear the canopy blast off.

Then straighten up, heels back in the stirrups,

then yank both armrests up.

Happy landing.

Now, any of that jazz you want repeated?

Any questions?

Just one thing.

If there's 1,000 feet of room above US and below US,

then how did you and that b-66...

Tangle over El toro?

I see.

Well, let me try and explain it.

I was flying along over El toro, thinking about Korea.

Suddenly, this b-66 came at me head-on.

For those few seconds, I was back in Korea,

and the b-66 was the enemy,

so I climbed.

If you dive...

You smash your canopy like this

into the belly of the b-66.

Your canopy jams, you can't eject to parachute down.

You're dead.

If you climb,

the b-66 smashes into your belly like this,

only you can eject.

You're safe.

But the b-66...

Well, I've lived with those dead men for 3 years.

Now, you still want to fly with me?

I've got to get home to Washington.

Trouble, mcvey?

Yes, sir.

I'll get you to Washington.

[Jet engine starts]

Call tower for takeoff clearance. Out.

North island tower, this is Navy jet 8-2-5-5.

Rolling out.

Mike, I know you hate to be interrupted.

So shut up.

Oh, listen, Mike, you keep saying you won't marry me,

so don't tell me to shut up like you'd tell a wife.

You're right, kitty.

Pleaseshut up.

I don't know why you won't marry me.

I'm the ex-champ of tramps,

and ex-tramps make the best wives.

Marrying talk. Suddenly it's cold.

Why don't you marry me and cash in

on what they taught me at stewardess school?

Yeah, I know.

Seams straight. Talk, but not too much.

And never talk about god or the government.

Where else could you get a wife so carefully trained

to kneel, bend, and squat charmingly?

Uh-huh.

You want my opinion of that?

Only if it's a good opinion.

Bad opinions keep to yourself.

It's sentimental enough to make Santa claus toss his cookies.

It's sentimental enough to get me 800 bucks to bank.

How?

Don't ask me how, but they say it will make a perfect cigarette ad.

You'll see it on billboards all over the nation.

I'll stock up on dramamine.

I jumped so fast when the dispatcher called,

I forgot to ask the rest of our crew.

Dede's the other stewardess.

Louis capelli's the throttle jockey,

and dick barnett's the captain.

[Thinking] Dick barnett.

No, j.B. Absolutely not.

I've flown 7 million miles.

I intend to fly 10 million.

Wait a minute, dick. Don't fly off.

I'm on the proverbial spot and I need your good proverbial helping hand.

So does trans states.

You'll be the best operations manager on the line,

and if you do this job the way I know you're going to do this job,

you'll wind up with a proverbial halo.

How many times can you throw that "proverbial" at me?

Until the proverbial cows come home.

They're home.

Stalled, milked, and the barn is locked.

Give me a yes instead of a no, and you'll wind up a vice president.

Look, j.B., I know I can fly a DC-7.

I won't even try to fly an executive's desk.

It's a big desk, one of the biggest.

I say it again: No.

Think it over, dick. Take plenty of time.

I don't need an answer until tonight.

Phone me when you land in Los Angeles.

[Laughs]

Look at you, j.B. A "no" just rolls off you.

Once upon a time, that door was always open.

Any pilot on the line could walk in here

and get what was bothering him off his proverbial chest.

Now he has to pass a receptionist, 2 plain secretaries,

an executive secretary, and an executive assistant.

I need a man for that job the pilots can cry to,

a man they respect--you.

No.

J.b.: Dick.

When you checked your weather, did you check your crew board?

That was my next stop when you paged me to come in here.

They botched up the crew schedule good.

The only first officer we could raise for you

was Mike rule.

[Thinking] Mike rule.

Dick: Mike.

Hey, you're losing your wings, captain.

Get that fixed for me, will you, Louis? You know Louis capelli?

Flight engineer with the biggest mouth on the line?

How are you, Louis?

I got to yak on the plane.

Home, I don't get a chance.

You think I got a big mouth? Look at my wife.

A jet could fly from one end of her mouth to the other

in maybe an hour.

Did I? If I don't--

listen, we got a pot won't stand steady on the stove,

it's got so many dents from banging me in the head.

My wife's got an arm like a rifle.

Give her 20 feet and that pot,

and she bangs me every time.

Which route did you pick to fly and what altitude?

Victor 16, captain, 20,000 feet.

So you didn't forget?

No. I didn't forget, captain.

That route and altitude are carved into me.

Any squawks with the plane?

The incoming crew had a fit

getting the nose gear down and locked.

Maintenance checked it out ok. I checked it out ok.

I you check my check--

dick: The girl?

Any questions?

Only the big one: The weather.

We'll stay above the rough

until we hit this low around abilene.

Might be pretty choppy there.

After that, happy sailing.

I'll take a look at that nose wheel now.

Anything?

Nothing, captain.

When do I serve the geese their dinner?

I'll ring you when we level off at 20,000 feet.

Why do they call passengers geese?

I don't know.

What's the story with you and dick?

What's what story?

You keep calling him captain.

No one calls him captain.

He's dick to everyone.

In days gone by, the captain and I

flew a million miles together.

Now he hates my guts.

Loudspeaker: Your attention, please.

Last call for trans states airlines flight 17,

dual luxury service direct to Los Angeles.

Boarding at gate 6.

Trans states flight 17.

Loudspeaker: Your attention, please.

Will Mr. Fair please come

to the trans states airline ticket counter.

Last call for trans states airlines flight 17

boarding at gate 6.

Last call, please.

Oh, captain.

I'm, uh, Dr. Benedict.

Yes, doctor.

Do you have emergency oxygen aboard?

Yes, we have oxygen at every seat, and there's an emergency tank aft.

If you need it, just ring for the stewardess.

I'd like to know where it is.

Please follow me.

Right here, doctor. You know how to work that.

Oh, yes.

Is there something you ought to tell me?

You have a right to know.

In case...

Well, my wife is with me.

She has a bad heart, and she doesn't know it.

I'm sorry, doctor.

So am I.

Keep an eye on the woman in 3-d.

She's a heart patient and doesn't know it.

She's with her husband. He's a doctor.

He asked about the oxygen, and I showed it to him.

Also, check your passenger list

and phone me 6-a's name.

The middle-aged man there.

6-a, all right.

Thank you, girl.

Mixture control.

Idle cutoff.

Fuel selectors and cross feeds.

Main's on, cross feeds off.

Autopilot.

[Telephone buzzes]

Yeah.

Kitty: Dick?

Dick here.

Dick, the man in 6-a?

He's Samuel, "n" for November, poole.

Palos verdes, California.

Thank you.

Samuel n. Poole.

That name ring a bell with anybody?

No.

No, captain.

I know that face.

If you have to call me captain, say it, don't spit it.

Is that miss or Mrs. Wiley?

Miss Beatrice wiley.

Thank you, miss wiley.

Sidney schreiber.

Thank you, Mr. Schreiber.

[Engines start]

[Thinking] She keeps looking at me over that paper.

Some guys can pick up a woman with a word.

Me? If congress passed a law,

"Sidney schreiber, talk to that woman or go to jail,"

maybe they'd let me keep a canary in my cell

so I wouldn't be too lonesome.

[Thinking] He keeps looking out the window

so he doesn't have to look at me.

I know what he's thinking: I look like a dog.

Dogs. Let's face it.

When it comes to dogs, dogs adore me.

When it comes to men, I'm a dog.

May I have your ticket, please?

Thank you.

Miss panawek.

Mrs. Panawek.

Oh, I'm sorry. Mrs. Panawek.

Thank you.

And Mr. Hyland.

Nick hyland.

Welcome aboard, Mr. Hyland.

Thank you.

[Thinking] Sure, my hair's dark now, not blonde,

and I've had my nose fixed,

but have I changed that much in 15 years?

Obviously.

Because Nicky hyland, Nicky saw me at the gate

and didn't recognize me.

I knocked down a dozen people to get this seat next to him,

and he still doesn't recognize me.

Before this flight's over, he won't be able to hide

behind that grim reaper mustache or that phony britishness

or that Italian suit, 2 sizes too small.

Before this flight's over,

I'll double the gray hairs in his head.

Trans states 17 clear to Los Angeles airport.

Cross Casanova at or above 8,000.

Cross montebello at 1-8 thousand.

Maintain 2-0 thousand via Victor 16.

And...

Mr. Bob fermi.

Oh, no!

What will they think when they meet the plane?

Another nut from the actor's studio.

Another methodnik.

Please.

Please, where did you get those clothes?

They would make a ragpicker rich.

If you're to be my agent,

don't be hostile.

I got my own hostilities.

My hostilities have got hostilities.

Actors!

The way you're carrying on with all your insecurities,

you had better study zen buddhism

or clean your fingernails.

Well, either way, it would be good publicity.

Oh, no!

An actor used to worry about getting a public.

Now he worries about getting publicity.

Maybe it's progress, maybe not.

Oh.

Tower: Clear to take off.

Mike: B-1, b-2...

We're up.

Dick: Flaps up.

Line power.

Trans states 17 turning right

0-3-0 degrees.

Tower: Clear to turn.

Man: Polaris city, altimeter 2-niner-8-3. Out.

This is midland center. Roger.

Understand you're in severe weather conditions.

Previous flight reports maximum severity just west of abilene.

You're pretty jumpy, norm.

I'm not jumpy. Sleepy.

How long has it been since you've had some sleep?

I've been awake 52 straight hours,

46 pacing up and down in what that hospital proudly tags

"papa's delivery room."

Did you call, Sally? Did you tell her it's my fault

that you're here instead of over at the hospital with her?

Doctor tells me to stop calling my wife every other minute.

He says I'm bugging him with phone calls,

and Sally's bugging him with false labor pains.

Boy, you really arejumpy.

I've developed a habit.

I can't eat unless my wife's across the table from me.

Tried eating at home, I burned the oatmeal.

Tried a restaurant, and I poured salt on the oatmeal instead of sugar.

I know we're 2 men short on the shift, and this is your first kid,

but take it from a father of 5:

Your doctor can deliver that baby blindfolded.

I don't want a blindfolded baby.

I want the kind of baby the doctor slaps on the behind

so it'll start to cry and breathe and start nursing his mother.

And I want Sally home.

I want Sally in that house of ours.

Mel, how about some relief?

Bug that doctor or not, I want to call Sally.

Rocky, take over.

Yeah.

Relax, mcvey.

Too tense, and you'll take in too much oxygen.

You'll hyperventilate,

and that word's long enough to keep you busy for a while.

Yes, sir.

Phoenix center, this is Navy jet 8-2-5-5

on Victor 16 over gila bandit 1-niner.

Radio: Phoenix center, this is air force jet 3-2-4-0.

Proceeding with v.F.R. Practice jet penetration

on a 0-8-5 degree radial.

Dale: Keep an eye open, mcvey.

Phoenix center, this is Navy jet 8-2-5-5.

Do you have v.F.R. Traffic? Over.

This will let that air force jockey know we're here.

Both eyes open, mcvey.

Aye, aye, sir.

Radio, transmission garbled: ...8-2-5...

Center, this is...

2-4...

...f.r. Pract...

I couldn't make that out, sir.

You're not alone. The radio's garbled.

There it is, sir! 11 o'clock.

Dale: Good eye, Mac.

20-20 vision, sir.

Now to deal with that garbled radio.

Phoenix center, Navy jet 8-2-5-5.

How do you hear me? Over.

Radio, garbled: 8-2...Phoenix...

...3...0...

Without a radio, on I.F.R. You're like a flying rock.

Control center can protect you if you stick to your flight plan,

but one change, and you stand a good chance to hit or be hit.

It's a crowded sky.

It's funny, sir.

The sky seems empty,

not crowded at all.

Dale: Plane's flying without a.T.C.

Tally up over 2,000 near misses a year.

A near miss means 2 planes missing by...

That much.

Phoenix center, 8-2-5-5.

How do you read me? Over.

Radio: 8-2...phoenix center...

...3-2...

...5 degrees...

Navy jet...

Sir.

[Static]

[Turns off radio]

This is trans states 17 on Victor 16.

I re-estimate Nashville at 2-4.

[Thinking] I could turn and offer,

"would you care for a cigarette?"

And maybe she'd smile and say, "yes, thank you."

And we'd be on our merry way.

My luck, I don't smoke.

[Sigh]

Me, I should be in the American flag business.

Cigarettes turn me blue, whiskey turns me red,

and women turn me white.

You know, I've made this trip 3 times in the last 2 weeks.

I'm a full-fledged member

of the "stomach that doesn't know whether to growl

on eastern or pacific time" club.

Tell me, do you live in Hollywood?

No.

Is that hollywoodite or wooder, wooden?

No. I happen to live in Beverly Hills.

Bought a house on stilts.

On a hill.

On the right side of sunset.

Perfect TV reception.

I, uh...I write an hour show

and a half-hour show.

Oh? What type?

A western western and an eastern private eye.

I'm, uh, performing an operation at the moment.

I'm changing the sex of a character.

[Thinking] Does he ever meet a girl he doesn't go to work on?

Now he's accomplished 2 things.

With that "changing the sex of," he's tested my sense of humor

and he's brought sex into the conversation.

[Laughs]

Oh, sex he's got, but I guess it takes more than sex

to write the great American novel.

My wife lives to dance.

She signs up with this dance school, 10 bucks an hour.

1,000 hour contract.

I say, "darling, don't you think that's a little much?"

Next thing I know, I don't know nothing.

She bangs me right here with the pot.

No matter how you look at it, dick,

the mixture on number 2's still too rich.

Check the exhaust, Louis.

Will do.

Captain... How is dick Jr.?

Dick Jr.'s fine.

Give him my best.

I'll do that.

[Thinking] He's needling me, and using a long, thick needle.

"How's dick Jr.?" He throws at me.

How would I know?

I don't understand my own son.

Dick: We're going to give you a name now, boy.

What you do with it from here on is strictly up to you.

Nurse: What are the 3 names in the cap?

Dick: I hope you pick dick Jr.

If you pick Joseph Bruce, it wouldn't kill me.

J.b.'s our little king.

But please don't pick that third name.

I can't even say it.

Woman: It was my father's name and my grandfather's

and my great and great-great and way, way back.

It's a very sound name in the state of Maine.

It's up to you.

Well, here goes.

Dick Jr.

Yahoo!

[Baby crying]

Oh, dick, may I have the 3 slips, please?

For the first entry in his baby book.

Dick?

The slips, please?

Yes, bev.

"Dick Jr.

[Accusingly] "Dick. Jr.

Dick. Jr."

No alibis. I cheated.

I just...

[Laughs]

[Baby crying]

Hey, that's air up there, boy.

It has weight, shape, motion-- everything but color.

Get the feel of it.

Right, bev?

You out to make a pilot of him?

Only if he wants it. It's his life, not mine.

[Children laughing and Calliope playing]

Look at these other kids Bob up and down.

Not dick Jr. he's a master.

Don't make me keep telling you over and over again.

Soft hands on that stick.

You're all thumb.

Dick.

When he does something right, do you ever tell him?

When he does something wrong, you yell at him at the top of your lungs.

My old man used to yell morning, noon, and night.

I swore if I ever had a son, I'd never raise my voice.

Well, then?

Why do I do it, bev? What gets into me?

Are you out to make a pilot of him?

Only if he wants it. It's his life.

Hmm?

Yes, I'm out to make a pilot of him.

[Crying]

I guess I should have done that,

put my arm around him.

How is it you're always doing the right thing?

Bev used to joke about how jealous I was of you,

how well you got along with him.

Suppose I took him away for a week,

to the sierras fishing.

That's enough now, boy.

You think bev would want you to be crying like that?

Dick Jr.: Yes.

Look at you standing there loafing.

I thought I gave you a flight plan problem.

Yes, sir.

Just wrong enough.

Take the right way around that weather.

Your route, you'd hit the heart of the low.

Yes, sir.

If I could only make it sink in.

To a pilot, weather can be your best friend or your worst enemy.

Go to the library and list all the troubles you can raise

when you hit the low.

Yes, sir.

Yes, dad.

Yes, dad, sir.

Will this make you drop the "sir" for once?

I worked it out.

Yes, sir.

Scared?

Yes, sir.

Never a pilot born who wasn't.

I'm not worried. You won't let me down.

I won't let youdown?

I didn't intend--

you always intend.

So I made one goof on the flight plan.

I'm not you. Can't you get that through your head?

I don't mind making a mistake once in a while.

In our business, one mistake, you can be very dead.

Not always, but just often enough.

You just don't dig me, do you?

I try. Believe me, I try.

Where are you going?

Out.

Where out?

Outout.

Your sons and daughters broke into this house

and have occupied it for the past 3 days and nights.

And your sons and your daughters hit this house like a tornado.

They smashed everything smashable and they wrecked everything wreckable.

In the kitchen, every tin can has been opened and dumped on the floor.

In the bathroom, every single fixture has been packed solid with dirt.

In the bedrooms, every single bed

has been chopped into fragments.

And the mattresses have been placed conveniently side by side

on the floor of the master bedroom.

The garage doors are cracked wide open

and both cars are battered against the wall.

All right, make yourselves presentable.

You're going down to be booked.

Why?

Why?

Why?

Bev tabbed it.

Said the trouble between dick Jr. and me was

that I never made a mistake.

Without mistakes, there is no forgiving.

Without forgiving, there is no love.

I'll be damned if I'll feel sorry for myself.

I have no son. I have only me.

Make that do.

Captain, you're 500 feet too high.

I'm flying just above the clouds to keep out of the rough,

so the geese back there can eat in peace.

It's rough down there. Rough up ahead.

A.t.c. Won't like it. They assigned US 20,000 feet.

They don't mean 20,500.

A.t.c. Is not flying this plane. I am.

It's a crowded sky.

That's a popular phrase these days.

You always did talk in popular phrases.

And you always did have to be right, right, right, just like a kid.

How long can you go on being a boy scout?

You slugged me once, and I didn't slug you back.

Don't tempt me now.

♪ Rig-a-dig-dig, cha-cha-cha ♪

♪ rig-a-dig-dig, cha-cha-cha ♪

I'm the first man in history

ever to dance the chico 20,000 feet up.

It's like wild, like way out!

Right between cha-cha and manslaughter.

Oh, I wish I could fly up here forever.

I wish I never had to go home.

I wish I had a wife that was a wife instead of a weapon.

♪ Cha-cha-cha, rig-a-dig-dig ♪

This is Navy jet 8-2-5-5.

Say again, El Paso center.

Say again.

Radio, garbled: 8-2...Paso...

...out.

We don't have muchof a piece of that radio left, do we, sir?

No, we don't.

The operations officer said you're trying

to get in the naval academy, Mac.

Yes, sir.

Are you trying to take my mind off the radio, sir?

Yeah.

Were you at the naval academy, sir?

I wear the ring, class of '44.

Sir, suppose...

A guy was to get in to the academy...

And suppose he was there awhile,

and suppose they found out he had a wife.

Not me-- I'm not married-- but suppose.

Find him married, they boot him out,

no ifs, ands, or buts.

Out.

Out.

[Thinking] Out.

No ifs, ands, or buts.

Academy, so long.

Good-bye, farewell.

Yet there I was, perfectly willing

to risk being booted out.

And there she was-- Cheryl.

You want to romance her, great. But marry Cheryl? Never.

Dale: I said cut it out!

Marry her and keep it a secret-- in the Navy.

And only 16 months to graduation day.

They'll still boot you out.

And don't tell me you love Cheryl.

Whatever you got for her, love it ain't.

Caesar...

How are you supposed to know if you're in love?

What are the rules? What's the test?

If you don't know if you're in love, then you're not.

Are we still getting married?

Honey--

I know. We've been over it and over it.

What if a little old plane shoots you down over the sea of Japan?

And what's a little old year to wait anyhow?

And haven't we got a whole little old lifetime ahead of US?

Funny thing, Cheryl. You can go over and over a thing,

and it can still be right.

I hate you, too, darling Caesar.

Well...

A little old something has come up.

Breakfast this morning.

And every morning.

I hate to tell you this over a banana split

in the academy g'dunk shop, but...

I'm pregnant.

Have you been to a doctor?

Darling Caesar, don't you want to buy a rabbit

and make the test yourself?

Have you been to a doctor?

In Baltimore. Why should Old Navy Washington get the buzz?

The doctor is sure.

Well, then?

Of course.

I have a kissing cousin in elkton.

She's a justice of the peace.

She'll marry you.

Elkton all right with you?

When?

Well, uh...

C-Can we wait 10 days till graduation day?

But why elkton?

Why don't we get married by the little old preacher

in the academy chapel?

The chapel's booked solid since yesteryear.

But dad is a rear admiral.

R.h.i.p.

Rank hath its privileges.

Mmm.

I just love banana splits.

Is it all the wonderful mixed-up flavors,

[giggling] Or...

Is it something freudian?

[Laughing]

[Organ playing]

Cheryl: Is that name for real?

Dale: For real.

Amber schmamber.

Dear husband, I'll tell you a little old truth

and then a consequence.

Some people are pathological liars.

You're a pathological truth teller.

I did lie to you once.

Yeah? When?

6 years ago. There wasn't any Baltimore doctor,

and I wasn't pregnant in that academy g'dunk shop.

Not even a little bit.

You lied to me twice.

You also lied about what happened to that mythical baby.

Oh, that was part of the same lie.

Anyhow, now we have Ann.

And that's how much I wanted to marry you.

You should be flattered.

You were going to tell me a truth, then a consequence.

The truth.

I'm fed up with lonely nights,

with you parked on a carrier,

swinging on a hook 5,000 miles away,

when dad could wangle you a snug berth.

I can't stand fear, and I can't stand loneliness, Dale.

I take my bonnet off to all the Navy wives who can,

but little old Cheryl can't.

Uh-huh.

And the consequence?

I've had many and many an offer of male companionship.

That you know.

You don't like the way most men look at me.

You turned down this Washington berth for Korea,

and when the little old offers come,

I'll say "yes, please" to the male companions

and let the "no, thanks" go hang.

Dale, thinking: Her male companions.

I never knew when I'd bump into them.

They'd all look the same way at me from across a room.

The "turn away" look.

Besides which, I was one of the first to buy that "turn away" look,

for richer, for poorer, or for better or for worse...

Forever.

Besides which, if I hadn't married Cheryl,

there'd have been no Ann.

A guy that gets her ought to burn candles in a cathedral.

Radio: 8...5...Tower.

Here...5...out.

El Paso tower, this is 8-2-5-5.

Say landing instructions again.

Say again. Over.

[Garbled transmission]

No luck?

Sometimes I'd like to take luck by the throat.

We're making with the cha-cha. She steps on my toes.

My toes, but she gets mad.

She butts with her head at my eye,

breaks this here cartilage right here. See that?

Louis, is your wife really a monster?

Nope.

I didn't think so.

Some men are born to marry monsters, but not you.

He had it pegged. He's the first one.

Man, when it comes to my wife, have I got the wilds.

It's foreverhood.

I had to make up the monster.

Boy, if I ever let myself think of the real her...

Boy, she is the most. She is the most, man.

I'd go crazy away from her. I couldn't fly.

And what's a flight engineer without a flight, huh?

[Telephone buzzes]

Yeah.

Kitty: Mike?

Mike.

Mike here.

My hot plate's frigid.

No coffee for the geese.

You're the expert.

Will you come fix it?

En route, kitty.

Kitty says her hot plate's frigid.

He's the first one ever pegged it.

Dick, how come this here Mike rule hates your guts?

I kept him from making captain.

He would have been about the youngest captain

in the history of the line.

[Thinking] Suppose the plane crashed.

I could be Sidney the hero.

I could smash the window with my bare hands

and save her from the burning wreck.

And then, maybe, we'd be on our merry way.

My luck, we'd all get killed in the crash.

[Thinking] What bothers me most?

Is it what happens to her when I tell her she's got so little time to live,

or is it what happens to me when I tell her?

I'll have my western hero with the fast, fast draw.

I'll have my eastern private eye

with some modern jazz and barbecued steaks.

Will you make it to my hilltop tomorrow night?

[Thinking] At ease, Gloria.

You might just date him for the pleasure of standing him up

and end up rolling in the Meadow.

Nah.

That'll be the day.

I'd love to come to your hilltop, Nicky.

Gloria?

You didn't recognize me, Nicky.

That hurt.

But I have changed, and with all the others you've known--

not so many. Not so many, Gloria.

And you?

Too many.

We still have that dropping low near abilene?

Yeah. You can see it on the radar.

That storm has a strong echo.

Why does dick hate your guts?

When you change the subject, you don't dilly.

Neither do you dally.

No. Why does he?

I don't know.

Sometimes I think it's because dick Jr...

Oh, skip it. I'm probably reaching.

Whatever the reason, he kept me from making captain.

That didn't get me.

What got me was that he enjoyed doing it.

[Thinking] If there's a god of the game of poker,

he must have been laughing.

[Drunkenly] Gentlemen, that's a new record.

3 hours and 48 minutes and I haven't won a pot.

If there's a god of the game of poker,

I'm not complaining, just wondering.

Keep on laughing.

[Men chuckle]

Find out how he's making out with the god of the game of flying.

Well, dick, we think Mike may be ready for captain.

How about it? What do you think?

You're chief pilot. That's your decision.

I came here to play poker, not politics.

Wheel 'em and deal 'em.

Hold it, j.B.

Dick was asked a fair question. I'd like his answer.

Mike's trying to walk 2 streets at the same time.

It's impossible.

He wants to fly, and he wants to paint.

If he ever makes up his mind that flying is a lifetime proposition,

he might make captain.

Right now, half the time, I'm carrying him on my back.

Is that official or unofficial?

Why?

If it's official, it goes in Mike's file.

And keeps him from making captain for a long, long haul.

It's official.

Man: Mike.

Man: Hey, Mike, hold it!

Cash me in, j.B.

I've been drunk before,

but tonight, i'm going to get loaded.

[Thinking] Home I'm not.

Uh-oh.

What's that?

1/3 tomato juice, 1/3 vodka, 1/3 tabasco sauce.

Just let it take hold and you'll be able to get on your feet.

I bought it at marafi's gallery.

You and I, I know we never met.

Not until last night at amigo's bar,

if you want to call that "met."

You were petrified.

Well, if I never saw you before,

how could I paint you?

I have an elegant theory about that.

You saw me somewhere.

Who knows where?

Maybe at some airport.

And then one day when you were painting,

you just popped me out of your subconscious cortex.

Those are highly technical words.

Not for a stewardess

with registered nurse credentials.

So, how about it?

The coffee's hot.

There was a big article about your father

in a magazine.

Did he really have 5 wives?

5 legal wives.

Which one...

My mother was lucky number 5.

And his whole life,

he only painted 4 paintings.

No, he painted hundreds.

He burned all but 4.

You couldn't remember all this

from a 3-year-old magazine article.

Mrs. Marafi threw in a copy

when I bought your painting.

The second cup will even taste like coffee.

When's your next trip out?

Monday morning.

I fly the early bird.

I don't remember.

Did that article say

where my father's paintings are now?

No.

One is a mural in a Texas post office,

and the fourth belongs to

an oil millionairess in Dallas.

I can pick up the phone,

borrow a cessna,

show you the lifework of Noah rule,

and have you tucked in bed by midnight Saturday.

I'll bring my camera.

Let's get one thing clear first.

Let's.

10,000 bucks in the bank, and I quit flying.

I take 5 years to find out

if I'm an artist as well as a painter.

I intend to stay unmarried,

without child, unattached.

Now, do I still pick up the phone

and borrow the cessna?

Let's...get one thing clear first.

Let's.

You and I didn't indulge last night,

and we won't.

I'm an ex-tramp, and I know myself.

One kiss, and I blast off

past the point of no return.

So, I just make it a point

never to take that first kiss.

Now, do you still pick up that phone

and borrow the cessna?

And my name is kitty foster.

Mike: This was a w.P.A. Project,

the only money Noah ever made from painting,

the only money he ever made period.

Even without faces, they're all so hungry.

He never painted faces,

and this was in the thirties,

when 20 million people

were hungry and couldn't get a job

and stood in line for bread and soup.

20 million people.

When you get mad,

your skin pinks... The same color

as those giant tahitian butterflies.

Why did you reform?

You mean, why am I an ex instead of a tramp?

Yeah.

I blasted off with a certain Mr. A.

And turned up pregnant.

Mr. A. Didn't want a baby,

so he located a $300 doctor,

and I located a doctor

who would deliver and adopt my baby out.

You had Mr. A.'S baby?

About an hour after the delivery,

I asked if I could please see my child,

and they said, no, I never could.

And that did it--ex.

And all his paintings are priceless now.

If I only had a dozen

of the hundreds he burned in that tin incinerator.

I don't even know if my baby is a boy or a girl.

I tried everything I know

to find out who and where it is,

everything from threats to hysterics.

I thought I changed the subject.

Let's keep it changed.

What I told you...

My history...

You're mad.

Mad as hell.

Mrs. Mitchell, this was my father's best

and most favorite painting.

How did you come to it?

Oh, forgetting is a penalty of old age.

You can remember

every little thing

that happened when you were 5 years old.

But the big things

that happened just a few years ago...

Even the animals had no faces.

I think that's to know

that circus wasn't just a circus.

It was a tented jungle--

animal hunting animal.

Nature's breadline.

Yeah.

No signature.

You find that painting provocative?

Yes. But that artist should run, not walk,

to the nearest psychiatrist.

That artist is in an asylum right now.

I know, kitty.

No faces.

I know. I said, I know.

It's my father's.

He must still be alive

and in an asylum.

Which one of Noah's wives were you?

His second.

In Korea, the red cross searched me out

to tell me how dead Noah was.

He had become a hopeless catatonic,

never moving, never speaking.

But he paints.

Only rarely, on exceptionally good days.

Your mother remembered

that I'd married a wealthy man.

She wanted Noah to have the best care

that money could possibly buy.

She ran the risk I'd stopped hating him.

And you had.

[Chuckles softly]

Forgiving is also a penalty of old age.

We cried a little together.

We spoke of you

and agreed you should not be told.

Well, what good would telling do?

Why tell him now?

Because Noah is painting again...

And he's painting you.

My face?

No.

Then how do you know it's me?

You'll see for yourself...

Won't you?

With all this wretched heat,

I could bundle him in 3 more blankets,

and the dear old man would still be cold.

Look at all the weight he's put on.

It never occurred to me that in an asylum--

oh, my.

What?

Not asylum,please. We hate that word.

It's too violent.

We prefer sanctuary.

He looks so rugged and healthy.

Oh, my. We take very good care of our company,

don't we, Mr. Rule?

Does he know I'm here, who I am?

Oh, my.

I'd only be guessing...

Or wishing.

[Bell rings]

Oh, time for the masseur

and the warm saline bath.

Would you say good-bye to him now, please?

And, uh,

say something striking

to make an impression.

Where's his new painting?

Honestly, I don't know

Noah...

Noah, I guess you're a great man.

Great men are hard to love.

I never knew I loved you

until I thought you were dead.

I'll be back. I've missed you.

Oh, my. Now, that was a fine good-bye.

Think he understood?

Well, really I'm not supposed to tell you.

But if he looks back while i'm wheeling him away,

you'll know the dear old man knows you.

I'll be back, Noah.

Want me to come in

and lend you a shoulder to cry on?

No.

Prefer to cry solo?

No. I'm all cried out now...

And I'm glad.

You make the suddenest switches.

I'm beginning to see.

See what?

How to paint one picture that'll live

and a man might take 5 wives...

Or no wife at all?

How he might risk murdering his own mind

or he might risk the love of flying he had.

That love I've got.

You've known me so little,

and you know me so much.

I was so sure when you went in that asylum...

Sanctuary.

I was so sure when you

saw the insanity in the genes that bred you

that you'd never...

I don't know what seeing your father did to you.

But somehow, I think it gave me a chance.

To do what?

To get you to marry me.

Marry you?

With no kisses,

with no blast off or whatever you call it?

You know, you I think I could kiss

and not blast off

beyond the point of no return.

Why so?

I said, why?

Because I love you.

I've fallen in love with you.

Go on in...

And lock your door.

Why so?

Maybe that kiss didn't blast you off,

but me, I...

If there's a god of the game of love and kisses...

[Thinking] I want to be an artist,

unmarried, without child, unattached,

and I want to be a pilot,

married to kitty and father of many.

I want to walk 2 streets at the same time.

It can't be done.

What can I do?

Get mad.

You're still 500 feet too high.

It's rocky down there.

I'm staying above the chop.

Let the geese sleep in peace.

It's even rockier ahead.

Take it down where you belong,

or I'll call the company and report you.

Will you?

Trans state company radio, this is flight 17.

Radio: Go ahead, 17.

Mike rule here.

Skip it.

You always did back away.

They'd take your word against mine.

Seniority's such...

A sacred cow.

Keep the geese contented. Keep them happy.

That's j.b.'s ticket to profit.

Keep the geese contented, happy.

How about keeping them alive?

This is Navy jet 8255.

I'm beginning to hear you. Say again. Over.

8255, this is El Paso tower.

You're cleared to land-- runway 3-5.

Wind--westerly at 1-5. Out.

That's it, Mac.

Our approach, runway, all we need.

El Paso bound.

Mac: Yes, sir.

When we land, I'll get that radio squared away,

or I'll steal a clean one.

If I have to, I'll steal a whole new plane.

What the...

Oh, sorry, Mac.

The first time I ever saw it snow inside.

Ice crystals in the pressure system.

And I got so wrapped up in the garble, I forgot the heater.

It'll clear in a minute.

Radio: 8255, park at the military line. Out.

We run into one dropping low near abilene,

then we're clear on Victor 16

all the way to Washington.

Sir...i need your advice.

Yeah, if I can help you.

Well, I've got this girl.

She was runner-up

in the miss Washington contest

for miss america.

And she wrote me this letter last week.

A dear John?

No, sir. Just the opposite.

I've had sensitive enough mail to know the opposite.

Yeah, you couldn't think, though.

She's...

Well, she's...

She's really a decent girl,

only, unfortunately,

a little too much in love.

But the naval academy.

If I'm married--

all clear, commander.

Fine. What was ailing the radio anyway?

Faulty relay. Sometimes the moisture gets in and fouls it up.

But it's all right now.

Reads fine. 5 by 5, loud and clear.

Much obliged.

Glad to help.

Do you love this girl?

Well, I...I, uh...

You do or you don't.

Take it from me, with love, it's no in between.

I'm so sorry I ever got mixed up with her.

So, how could I love her?

If I did-- but I don't...

Maybe someday I will.

Mac...

With love, marriage is tough enough.

Without it, it's mutual suicide.

If you don't love her,

don't marry her.

I sure am in a mountain of a mess.

Let's go.

Mac, I'm going to take one last radio check.

El Paso tower, Navy jet 8255.

Radio check, over.

8255, this is the tower.

I hear you loud and clear.

5 by 5, out.

Squared away, Mac.

This is trans state 17 on Victor 16.

Estimating abilene at 4-5.

[Thinking] I'll drive her to the beach.

We park until the sun comes up

and the breakers edge with pink.

Then I'll tell her of the few days she has left,

I'll tell her

we'll build each day into a year.

[Thinking] No, she's no beauty.

But the older I get,

well, every woman begins to look like a beauty.

If I live to be 100,

there won't be an ugly woman on earth.

[Thinking] Kittens--let's face it--

when it comes to kittens,

oh, why go on?

Let the animal kingdom be.

4 assorted analysts told you the same thing.

If you don't love yourself,

how can anyone else love you?

I'm 35 years old, Nicky.

I've been married 3 times.

I was married just once.

At first, I married an army colonel

10 years older than me,

and he was as different from you

as I could possibly find.

Yeah, I thought there was some secret in marriage

that would let me accept love.

Well, there wasn't.

And all I got was this,

a pseudo-British manor--

but no acceptance of love.

And then to an L.A. reporter

for 3 long, long months

and now to my husband.

He's the most generous,

the kindest...

How about it, Gloria?

Will you make it to my hilltop tomorrow night?

[Thinking] No, no, no, no.

Yes.

Thinking about the part?

And if I am?

Stop worrying.

You'll bowl them over on Broadway,

you'll bowl them over in Hollywood.

The coward.

How am I going to play the coward?

I mean, I've never been afraid of nothing

my whole life.

Oh, why did I let you con me into this?

Because body and soul,

you ache to be a movie star.

A coward.

How am I going to create the central spine?

And how am I going to involve the inner life?

An actor used to worry how to get a part.

Now he worries how to play a part.

Maybe it's progress. Maybe not.

Hey, gertrude...

You think I like acting, huh?

Well, it's pure pain.

But I can't live without it.

Radio: Southern air 3 over pinto 4-4-1--2,000.

Estimating polaris city at 0-2.

Juniper nixed. Over.

Southern air 3, midland center. Roger.

Polaris city altimeter-- 2-niner-8-3. Out.

Norm...

The doctor says Sally is coming on strong now.

These pains are for real,

although Sally won't admit it.

She's afraid it's another false alarm.

Mel, how about some relief?

Norm, you leave, that means somebody

will have to work 3 sectors.

Can you work 3?

Nobody could.

Well, Sally understands.

She said to tell you

she also said to tell you that she loves you.

Go ahead and see Sally, norm.

I can handle your board.

I know i'm only a tenderfoot,

but am I ever going to get hip?

You've got a mind

that works in 3 dimensions, Roger.

In no time at all,

norm: Trans state's flight 17...

And Navy jet 8255.

I'll switch to contour.

There's your storm.

It's a real growler.

It looks like we'll have to make a detour

about 10 miles to the south through here.

The geese won't take any bumping at all.

We'll save time for the geese

and money for j.B.

And a shake-up for Louis' belly.

3 million miles in the air, and I still get airsick.

Boy, if it's mind over matter,

then shake hands with a mental midget.

Give me the phone, Louis.

[Intercom buzzes]

Kitty.

This is dick. If you'll be good enough

to pour now, we'll have that cup.

Ok, dick. Coffee coming up.

No, I'll come back. I want to take a look

at the exhaust flame on number 2.

Right-o.

Are you going to take it?

Take what?

I hear j.B. Tossed a big desk at you.

Looking you over,

I think it'd take a good year

before your rump got that vice president's spread.

How did that get out?

Now, now, don't get all shook up, man.

It's always a mystery to the big brass how the word gets out.

They forget that they got pretty secretaries,

and they forget that

those pretty secretaries can read what they type.

So, are you going to take it?

No.

Nobody but nobody can say no to j.B., pal.

No desk for me until I've flown 10 million miles,

and maybe not then.

Can you see me battling the bankers

on the 9 A.M. freeway?

Keep it on autopilot,

and don't try to take it down 500 feet.

You're reading my mind, captain.

Just don't.

And if I do?

When this flight's over,

you and I better have it out.

Once and for all.

Fine.

Pardon me, sir. I'm captain barnett.

We seem to have met before.

I was wondering when you'd recognize me.

I flew with you 16 years ago.

You have a good memory.

How could I forget?

You put me off your plane at Memphis

for being drunk, disorderly, and obnoxious...

I drunk my wallet empty and flat.

You lent my bail

and talked the police out of pressing charges.

As the ads boast-- trans state service.

My thanks.

Belated, but thanks.

Nice to see you.

Midland center, this is Navy jet 8255.

Request your altimeter setting.

I say again, altimeter setting. Over.

[Voice on radio fading in and out]

Sir, do we have--

the radio tested loud and clear

over El Paso and on the ground.

Well, maybe it's the relay again.

Mac, I won't play games with you.

We've hit, in your words,

a mountain of a mess.

You keep asking for an altimeter setting.

That's right.

When we're dropping low,

unless your altimeter is right,

you keep flying lower and lower.

Your altimeter can't be right

without a reading from the ground.

No radio, no reading.

Well, how much lower are we than we should be?

That depends just how low this low is.

I said no games.

We could be 1,000 feet low.

Where there are planes flying the other way?

No going back to El Paso?

We turn back, and who knows what we might crash into.

No. We keep going. That's standard procedure.

Mac, have you ever seen a radarscope?

Yes, sir, on the carrier.

Well, right now, we're showing up as a pip

down there on the abilene radar.

If I flick our I.F.F. To "emergency,"

the pip changes.

Abilene knows we're in trouble.

Well, even if abilene knows we're in trouble,

they can't reach US, and we can't reach them.

How can they help US?

Abilene can call midland center.

Some sharp controller at midland

may figure just what our emergency is.

If he does, he'll broadcast the altimeter

right away on our Omni here.

It's a regular broadcast setup.

We can't call out on the Omni,

but we can hear midland.

If the controller is sharp enough,

he'll have US back up in our own air in no time.

If not, well, we'll just have to wait 7 minutes

until the regular Omni broadcast.

Sir, what are our chances?

They're not 24-carat.

Say 10-carat.

Is it back luck to say "good luck"?

Ha ha. Yeah, it is.

Well, here goes.

I'm flicking to emergency.

Hey, look at this pip--emergency!

This jet is in trouble.

Midland center, this is abilene air force g.C.I.

We got a jet showing "emergency."

The jet's eastbound on Victor 16,

almost on top of abilene.

Must be Navy jet 8255.

Looks like he's lost his radio.

Abilene, can you read his altitude?

I make him 20,000 feet, give or take a little.

M.c., 04.

Dropping low.

Just dropped that jet 1,000 feet.

How do we get him up to his own air?

Well, he flicked to "emergency."

I told you you had a mind that worked in 3 dimensions.

That's it-- his Omni, rocky.

Navy jet 8255, this is midland center.

Climb immediately. You are low.

I say again, climb immediately.

Abilene radar advises you appear low.

Abilene altimeter 2-niner-7-1.

Going up, Mac. Hang on.

There he is-- Navy jet 8255.

And there's trans states 17,

converging, head on, norm. Head on.

Trans states 17, this is midland center.

Descend immediately to 18,000 feet.

Repeat, descent immediately.

Traffic is Navy jet believed to be below his assigned altitude.

Repeat, Navy jet below assigned altitude.

Trans states 17 descending immediately.

Midland center, get that Navy jet off my back.

Fasten your seat belts, please.

[Thinking] 18,000 feet.

Let's get this thing down 2,000 feet--

no, 2,500 feet.

An airliner!

Get up! Get up!

[Thinking] I won't kill them. I'm diving!

Check number 2 engine!

Feather 2.

Circuit breakers, Louis.

Aah!

Louis!

[Passengers screaming]

Better get the geese down

before they pass out.

They can't breathe up here.

We're a firetrap unless I can pull those circuit breakers.

Can you get around the hole?

I...I'd better make it.

Tell kitty to prepare for a crash.

Dyess air force base tower.

Mayday. Mayday. Mayday.

This is trans states 17.

Request emergency g.C.A. To dyess immediately. Over.

Radio: Trans states 17, this is dyess.

Clear for emergency landing.

Turn you over to g.C.A.

Here, doctor.

All right.

Concussion.

Doctor, your wife.

Yes, I know. She's dead.

[Thinking] Don't let him see it in a headline

or hear it in a flash on his car radio.

I never knew I loved my husband.

Now I'll never be able to tell him.

Radio: Trans states 17, this is dyess g.C.A.

Turn right 90 degrees for radar identification.

My nose wheel is jammed.

Can you foam the runway?

Repeat, can you foam the runway?

Radio: Affirmative.

Boy, I'm scared now.

Boy, I'm scared.

I'm scared to death.

Oh, boy.

Could I play that coward's part now?

If we don't crash to death,

I'll win US an Oscar. I mean it.

Radio: I have you in radar contact.

Turn left, heading 180. Over.

What about the runway? Have you foamed the runway?

Being foamed.

Just the same,

I'm going to ask you to do a few things

to protect yourselves.

First, and quick, now.

I want you to fasten your seat belts

as tight as you can.

Push your seat buttons

and raise your seats up straight.

False teeth out.

Put them in your purses and your seat pockets.

We won't tell a soul that you wear them.

Now take all sharp objects out of your pockets.

Take pins, keys, anything,

and jam them between the seats.

Take your pillows. Put them by your feet.

When I give the word, I want you to bend forward

and grab your ankles.

No, not now. I'll tell you when.

No one is to move until the plane stops.

And please don't crowd.

You'll then go to the back of the plane.

You'll have to climb a little

because the nose of the plane will be tilted down.

We'll have a canvas chute rigged at the back of the plane

for you to slide down.

And again, I want you please not to crowd.

Radio: Trans states 17, 50 feet below glidepath.

Adjust rate of descent.

[Sirens]

Radio: 40 feet below glidepath.

Correcting nicely.

Turn right, heading--

engine tearing loose.

[Sobbing]

Barnett: Responding now.

Keep talking US in.

Radio: On course. On glidepath.

Very good rate of descent.

15 miles from touchdown.

The passengers are ready.

Good.

Get back.

Are we going to make it?

Scud is thinning out.

5 yards.

Radio: You are now on final approach.

Get back there and strap yourself in.

Radio: Do not acknowledge any further communications.

Now!

Bend forward and grab your ankles!

[Thinking] If I don't overshoot,

if I don't slam the nose down...

If...if...

[Siren]

How's she feeling?

[Mumbles]

[Indistinct conversations]

I invited you to my hilltop, Gloria,

but Hollywood streets have a way of starting

and then skipping a mile and starting again.

A cab could never find my hilltop.

My sports car is fast, flashy, and flimsy.

Shall I pick you up at your hotel?

Yes.

[Thinking] He doesn't know it,

but if he waits in his car

in front of the hotel,

he'll wait...

And he'll wait another 15 years.

Before we took off,

from when the stewardess was taking our names,

I tried to say "hello" to you.

I couldn't.

Hello, Beatrice.

Hello, Sidney.

You know, gertrude,

I figured out the whole key to that character,

all the adjustments.

I'm going to play that coward as if he were 2 feet tall.

That's the way I felt up in that plane.

You've got to get a haircut.

And if you have to let the barber give you novocaine,

let him.

Oh, gertrude, be my agent. Don't be my mother.

Your mother? Actors don't have mothers.

They're the only people on earth

who give birth to themselves.

Mother?

You're going to tell the f.A.A. We were 500 feet too high?

The book says the f.A.A. Has got to know.

Who taught me to fly by the book?

Suppose I tell you I'll take j.B.'S desk job.

Suppose I tell you I'll quit flying.

You just made one landing in a million.

You handled that plane so beautifully,

like it was made out of glass.

You saved 62 passengers,

62 you damn near killed.

You're telling the f.A.A. Because of the book

or because of the poker table

that kept you from making captain?

You had a right to give your opinion,

even if it kept me from making captain.

You had no right to enjoy it.

As a matter of fact,

I'm not telling the f.A.A.

Why not?

Because I won't have to.

To repeat, why not?

Because you're still a boy scout.

Because you never did grow up.

Because you'll tell the f.A.A.

The truth yourself.

Then I will.

Barnett: It's common knowledge

that midair crashes happen for 2 reasons:

Mechanical failure and pilot error.

Commander Heath...

Commander Dale Heath was at that altitude

because of the mechanical failure of his radio.

Our plane was at that altitude

because of pilot error.

I made a simple, fatal mistake.

It was my mistake and my mistake alone.

I worried about giving my passengers

an easy, pleasant flight.

Almost killed them doing it.

Barnett, thinking: I made a mistake

and came up with a fighting chance

to have me a son.

Well?

Dad, i--

barnett, thinking: Without mistakes,

there is no forgiving.

Without forgiving, there is no love.

Kitty: I still say it's sentimental enough

to make Santa claus toss his cookies.

Well, maybe they figure that cigarette smokers are sentimental.

Who knows?

But I do know this.

Either way, flying or painting,

I want to marry you.

Yeah. I want to Wade knee-deep in disposable diapers.

I want to name the first boy Noah.

Now, where do you want to honeymoon?

What difference does it make?

We'll never leave our hotel room.

[Thinking] If there's a god

of the game of love and kisses,

gracias, merci, and thank you.