I don’t normally like bad movies. I don’t usually subscribe to the “so bad, it’s good” mentality. Bad is just bad. But there are rare exceptions and Airport 1975 is one them. First of all, the Airport franchise is ridiculous. I mean, they made four of these things, and it’s the same story every time: a plane full of celebrities falls into jeopardy and needs a’savin’. This is the second in the series — and the most enjoyable. How could it not be? Check this shit out:
I really like Oliver Stone about half the time, but the show-offy style he used with Natural Born Killers and J.F.K. doesn’t service Any Given Sunday. Those other films, with their multiple perspectives and drug-induced visions, felt right to employ rapid editing and multiple media. But Any Given Sunday is (or should have been) a reality-based ensemble drama about the rigors and tribulations of everyone who works in football. Freeze-frames, stock photography of rolling thunder clouds, and ecclesiastic Moby music don’t work here — they only serve to portray football as something holy and sacred, and the players as celebrities or gods.
