I LOVE FLYING AS LONG AS I keep thinking I am on an elevator. My first flight took place when I was 13 years old. A friend and I were able to buy tickets for $38.00, yes $38.00, for a flight from our smaller airport that would fly around the city for 30-40 minutes. It was promoted as a tour plane, taking passengers along the lakefront up to the near northern suburbs, then back towards the western side before we would begin our descent on the south side. I still remember the push I experienced back into my seat when the thrust from the engines kicked in while we began our trek down the airstrip. Both of us were so excited from the flight that we vowed to become avid travelers. Even back then, the airplane reminded me of an elevator, except with more space and a bathroom. One steps into it, the doors close, it moves and when it eventually stops the doors open and you are in a different location. The flight attendants were like elevator men and women who helped facilitate your journey. The weird thing is when I was flying in my younger days, I did not have any worries. That was because most of the land I saw out the window was flat looking. After my growth spurt where I suddenly was taller, I no longer was interested in the window seat, instead I wanted the aisle seat.      IT WAS DURING A FLIGHT THAT went over the Rockies, which started me second guessing about air travel. I had flown over green covered mountains, which did not appear dramatic compared to the Rockies. It was on that flight that I thought about what would happen if the plane had to go down from this location. Also, as I got older, I started thinking about more things that could go wrong on a flight. In my lifetime, there were some newsworthy airline incidents, from crashes to engines on fire. Those started weighing on me; each one carrying equal weight of fear and concern no matter the ratio between victims and survivors. Each one was a horrific experience. My last flight involved flying over the ocean and it did give me a moment of pause. However, since it was taking place at nighttime, I figured I could sleep through that portion of the trip. The sad thing is I used to focus more on outside factors causing a problem with a flight. Recently in the news there has been so much talk about the poor craftsmanship taking place on airplanes, that my anxiety levels are elevated. Now having watched this Oscar nominated international film, I cannot even take in all the emotions that I was experiencing while watching it.       A RUGBY TEAM CRASH LANDS IN the Andes Mountains. The survivors must produce ways to survive long enough to be saved; that is if they can even be found. With Enzo Vogrincic (A Twelve-Year Melt; Yosi, The Regretful Spy) as Numa Turcatti, Agustin Pardella (What the Waters Left Behind, Secrets of Summer-TV) as Fernando ‘Nando’ Parrado, Matias Recalt (Planners-TV, Apache: The Life of Carlos Tevez) as Roberto Canessa, Esteban Bigliardi (Bad Christmas; Murder Me, Monster) as Javier Methol and Diego Vegezzi (The Invisible Eye, Music for Getting Married) as Marcelo Perez del Castillo; this adventure drama, history movie was an intense viewing experience. I vaguely remember the true story and knew going in this was going to be a difficult story to watch. The cinematography was outstanding, and the cast were completely believable. I had to assume the writers took some liberties with the dialog, but regardless my attention was glued to the scenes. The subject matter was treated with respect, I felt; and the story was so incredible that it still was hard for me to believe this film was based on that true event. The original movie was done in Spanish; I saw the English dubbed version.                        

3 ½ stars