Mike Newell’s entertaining new movie, Pushing Tin, is another contribution to a genre that was, if not invented by Howard Hawks, defined and refined by him. You might call it the “Professional Picture” and the subjects here are air traffic controllers, though they might as well be rodeo performers, fighter pilots, racing drivers, cops, hurricane chasers or Hollywood stuntmen.
They regard themselves as an élite set apart from the general public, speak in a private jargon, drink in their own favourite bars after work. In every “Professional Picture”, there’s a braai in someone’s garden where the guys josh each other as they swill beer (it’s always beer and it’s never poured into a glass) and the wives get together to talk about what it’s like to share the nerve-wracking life of an astronaut, deep-sea diver or whatever. Nowadays there’s also a sing-along or karaoke scene.
At the centre is the rivalry between an established ace and a newcomer who compete at work and over women to be the group’s top gun, though in the grand finale the feuding duo invariably bond in a sentimental orgy of mutual respect. It’s a macho genre, not made less so by the presence of a token female capable of keeping up with the boys on the job and at the bar.
Written by Glen Charles and Les Charles, the co-creators of TV’s Cheers, Pushing Tin is formulaic to a degree as cool half-Choctaw Indian Russell Bell (Billy Bob Thornton) comes from the West to challenge the supremacy of Nick Falzone (John Cusack), number one air traffic controller at New York’s TRACON (Terminal Radar Approach Control).
They meet when Russell’s motorbike nearly causes Nick to crash his car, and compete to see who can “push tin” (ie direct aircraft) fastest, most furiously. Off duty, Nick finds himself in bed almost by accident with Russell’s alcoholic teen bride (Angelina Jolie) and feels even more guilty when the Zen-inclined Russell forgives him. But Nick really begins to flip, and his expertise starts to go on the blink, when his wife (Cate Blanchett) takes a shine to Russell after he lends her his “Teach Yourself French” tapes and she starts learning “the language of love”.
Watching these men at work on a job in which, as someone remarks, “they have more lives in their hands in a single shift than a surgeon does in his whole career”, is fascinating. Their company off duty is less interesting and an overlong picture goes downhill very badly in its last half-hour.