A movie about the simple things in life... and death

Rating: 8/10 (16 June 2009)

The best horror films exploit simple fears, and since no sane person isn't at least a little bit afraid of flying, Final Destination chooses a brilliant catalyst for its mirth. But a set-up isn't enough to carry a film on its own, and the reason Final Destination works so well is that the film-makers don't rely on their fantastic concept to push the movie. In less-capable hands, this story would have been a rote 10 Little Indians kill cycle, but by integrating genuine suspense and boundless creativity into the proceedings, Final Destination falls somewhere much closer to the category of modern classic.
Without recounting the plot, the core premise here is that no one can cheat death, and that by challenging fate, we oppose powers far beyond our control or understanding. The "survivors" who get off of doomed Flight 180 are perfect essays for the range of human reactions to the inevitability of death. Some leave the plane in a panic, like those among us who fear death to the extent that we let this fear lead us through our lives and out of situations that may contribute to whatever nasty end we imagine is in store for us. Much more interesting, the others who disembark the jet before its inevitable destruction are led away from their fate by simple twists of chance, each with a series of minor actions that test the fabric of fate just enough to forge their unnatural survival of an event they were destined to perish in.
This complex but identifiable crux is why Final Destination is such a masterfully-rendered work of horror. We've all had those moments in our life where a seemingly random series of events culminates in a significant occurrence. It's quite natural to question what forces are at work in these instances, and how many variables were required to lead us to the conclusion we face.
According to Final Destination, the force at work here is Death, itself. And this Death is a relentless shadow that uses pure elements like water and fire (again, simple fears) to create extravagant macabre Rube Goldberg devices to carry out its task. The way each individual piece of these machinations relates to something most of us would consider mundane (a leaky water line, a crack in a glass) heightens the powerful horror that permeates the film. After all, these victims aren't doing things we would never do and creating their demises by irresponsible actions; they are in situations that could actually happen to us, and the brilliantly slow and suspenseful set-ups that accompany each death force us to question: would WE notice the dripping water that eventually leads to our death?
The scenes in the airport at the beginning of the film are particularly gripping. The dread is built though a series of subtle images that don't look at all out of place in the airport (the departure board, the words "final destination" on the ticket), yet something about them is askew (note that the number on the luggage cart that drives beneath the plane as the characters board is "666", for instance). This series of little coincidences are all things that many of us would never pay attention to, or even notice to begin with, but if we saw them all as our main character does, could we draw any other conclusion than the one he realizes?
Of course, there is also a lot to be said for the gleefully orchestrated carnage that keeps the pulse of the film steadily pumping. The plane crash is a truly shocking set-piece; chances are, no one reading this has been in one, but seeing it unfold on this screen, we get the sense that not only could the film-makers' scenario happen, it would probably happen EXACTLY like we see it here.
Even knowing what's coming doesn't prepare the viewer for some of the more carefully-plotted "gotcha" moments. (If you aren't caught off guard by the bus hit, I'm guessing you have the same semi-psychic sense that drives our main character to get off the plane to begin with). By mixing in the right amount of carnage, and making it as over the top as the story allows, the film strikes a great balance between tension and release, a tenuous and not-often-realized phenomenon that classifies most of the best horror films of all time.
This is not a perfect film, by any means. FD has flaws both minor (Clear Rivers is one of the worst film character names of all time) and major (the entire FBI subplot, and the wholly unrealistic actions of the two agents, which are in direct opposition to the "this could happen to you" element that makes the film so frightening). The film also takes a credibility leap when the characters start calmly discussing "finding the patterns" and "getting skipped" (would anyone in this situation really be able to understand and articulate the phenomenon they are experiencing?). But there's also lot to be said for making a good old-fashioned thriller, and since we know that's what we're in store for here, it's relatively easy to allow our analytical minds take a siesta and simply enjoy how well this entire concept is brought to, ahem, life.
"Simple". There's that word again. We keep coming back to it because the notion of simplicity is key to the film's successful delivery. If the main point of the story is that Death is coming, that's pretty simple, and still effective. However, the interlace of actions and reactions that construct each kill, and indeed the entire notion of Death searching for those who escaped it, is anything but simple. So, this entity seems simple on the surface, but is in fact a more intricately constructed web than we could possibly imagine. Such is life, and such is Final Destination.