Lie, Deny, Defy -- Then Denzel Washington Could No Longer Could Fly

One of the blessings of my retirement is I can do pretty much whatever I want. Like yesterday, I watched a movie called Flight   (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flight_(2012_film)#Plot). I didn't know it was a movie about addiction until I watched it. If you haven't seen it, do. It will make your day.

Denzel Washington is a pilot who heroically saves his commercial flight from crashing. Only six died instead of everyone. What the viewer knows
and what a few around Denzel know is he drank vodka before and during the flight.

He is hospitalized, and while there tests positive for alcohol. The results get squelched. When he is well, he visits a flight attendant who was once his friend, and his copilot who was paralyzed in the crash landing, and sweet talks them out of testifying against him.

He finds a new girlfriend, a recovering heroin addict. She convinces him to attend an A.A. meeting with her. When the speaker talks about how he used to lie, Denzel's conscience leads him to walk out. His continuing substance abuse later leads her to walk out on him.

I hate to ruin the ending, but it isn't the ending that makes this movie so good. It's the coverups, the denials, the lies, the enablers that are familiar to many of us. The night before his NTSB hearing, Denzel, despite a guard posted outside his hotel room, gets his hands on some hooch, wrecks his room, and wakes to that too-familiar daze. His union advocates "sober" him up with cocaine, and he makes it to the hearing. The lying continues until, just as it appears he will be exonerated due to a lack of evidence, the lies stop. At last, he admits he has a drinking problem. He confesses he was drunk when the plane crashed.

Denzel goes to prison, and we glimpse the A.A. Promises taking effect on him. He delivers a moving speech to his fellow inmates. I will transcribe it from the movie because the message is so worthwhile:

"That was it. I was finished. I was done. It was as if I had reached my life-long limit of lies. I could not tell one more lie. Maybe I'm a sucker, cos if I had told just one more lie I could've walked away from all that mess, kept my wings, kept my false sense of pride. And more importantly, I could've avoided being locked up here with all you (pause) nice folks for the last 13 months....

"I've had a lot of time to think about it -- all of it.... I wrote letters to each of the families that lost loved ones. (Step 9) Some of them were able to hear my apology. Some of them never will.

"I also apologize to all the people who tried to help me along the way, but I couldn't or wouldn't listen. People like my wife -- my ex-wife -- and, uh, my son.... But at least I'm sober. I thank God for that. I'm grateful for that.

"And this is going to sound real stupid coming from a man who is locked up in prison. But for the first time in my life, I'm free."

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