All language subtitles for The Crowded Sky

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.