Get out a copy of Roget’s and look up stupid. That’s all you need to know about this total piece of crap. Undoubtedly one of the worst movies ever made. There is no excuse for turning out something this idiotic. To make matters even worse the title plane isn’t even a jet. It’s a turbo prop.
In Spain,Brett Matoon (Guy Madison) is all set to marry his girlfriend Jean Gurney (Virginia Mayo). After a totally boring eight minutes we find out Brett is an escaped murderer. FBI agent Stafford (George Raft) catches up with him and is going to take him back to the U.S.
Just so happens the plane they’ll be on has a gas bomb planted in a trunk by Lord Robert Leverett (George MacReady). He’s pining over the death of his young daughter and blames himself. He’s getting on board too along with his unsuspecting wife Ursula (Anna Lee).
Stafford allows Brett to call Jean but he can’t tell her where he’s going. He calls off the wedding. Jean, still in her costume from the club where she’s a featured dancer, finds out from Brett’s apartment house manager that he was being taken to the airport and high tails it down there. She even manages to buy a ticket just before take off..
After a lot of wasted time showing us the passengers, which include an opera diva (Ilona Massey), Dr.Vanderbird (Brett Halsey) who just inherited twenty-five million dollars, the quirky Miss Hooten, church official Dean Halltree and Mrs.Lanyard (Margaret Lindsay) and her young daughter we’re airborne.
I’m keeping this short because it’s too painful to remember.
Word gets among the passengers about Brett and he and Jean end up in a stateroom by themselves. Stafford figured he could uncuff him since he can’t go anywhere. The stupidity reaches new heights when the Dean performs a wedding ceremony for the happy couple.
Now the gas starts to leak from the trunk and a fire breaks out in the luggage compartment. The pilot and navigator die. Passengers have coughing fits. Brett steals a gun from a sleeping FBI agents and tells Jean, if she helps, they’ll hijack the plane to Canada.
I can’t go any further. It’s just too bad a memory. The last fifteen minutes are a study in sheer idiocy. Okay….one example. Brett, who is really innocent, takes over the controls and vows to bring it in to New York.
There isn’t once second of this garbage that’s worth the celluloid that was wasted on it. An hour and thirty-two minutes of my life I’ll never get back.