

It begins, as many indie thrillers do, with great promise.
There’s a complicated lead character — wife by day, leather cover-band singer and sex-in-the-club-bathrooms rocker by night, air traffic controller later each night.
I know. But stay with me. Pleeeaaase!
On the night “Charlie Tango” opens, multi-tasking tart Kim (Stacie Mistysyn) is even more distracted. And that’s AFTER the poker game among Canadian air traffic controllers, the one they play to “bond” when they’re supposed to be getting and giving “briefings.”
This night Charlie Tango 707 runs afoul of Delta Charlie 543 while India Foxtrot 1120 is passing in those same Canadian skies. That’s a chilling sequence.
If nothing else, Montreal-based writer-director Simom Boisvert’s movie, with convincing (’80s vintage) control screen tech and phone lines “always down,” will put the fear of God in one about Canadian air traffic control.
Hang onto that fear, because literally everything that follows in this air accident thriller is nonsensical to the point of daft and as realistic as any given episode of “Schitt$ Creek.”
The Canadian NTSB investigators suggest Kim “meet with the survivors” of the plane that crashed.
“It was an ACCIDENT. I don’t need a SHRINK!”
Kim’s side-piece (David La Haye) is a French-accented hustler in a dyed man-bun that screams “SKETCHY,” especially when he offers her a job at his “real estate investment” concern.
Who knew pyramids were Canada’s best candidates for “house flipping?”
Kim’s neglected cop-husband (Bruce Dinsmore) may or may not have a clue. Sure, let’s lure him in for a sales pitch, have a sit-down “with the armed spouse of the woman you’re sleeping with.” What could wrong wrong?
And when it all does go wrong — slowly, tediously and incredulously — little of what we’ve seen before is allowed to make a lick of sense.
Rating: unrated, sex and sexual situations, profanity
Cast: Stacie Mistysyn, David LaHaye, Bruce Dinsmore, Marcel Jeannin and Diana Lewis.
Credits: Scripted and directed by
Simon Boisvert. A Gravitas Ventures release.
Running time: 1:38

