Economical, efficient, taut little thriller from Wes Craven, a terror film in place of his customary horror film. The normal business of a modern-day airport, with its flight delays and frayed nerves ("Flying's so much fun these days, huh?"), makes for a smooth and easy access to the subject of terrorism, and terrorism is indeed the subject, divested of any identifiable ideology, and therefore any possible offense. When our damsel in distress (Rachel McAdams, showing some impressive physicality in the closing stretch) finally rebels against her personal terrorizer (Cillian Murphy), you might wonder what took her so long; but the film is pretty much over by the time you can lay a finger on, or poke a finger through, any hole in the terrorist plot. At just about an hour and a quarter, it is closest thing you can find nowadays to an early "B" movie by Anthony Mann or Richard Fleischer. Close in running time, that is; close in speed; not in style. With Brian Cox, Jayma Mays, Scott Bakula. (2005) — Duncan Shepherd
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