Anyway, the stewardess picks up a little plastic dinosaur that's in the aisle, and places it on the tray table of a little girl. "Thanks," she says, completely freaking the steward out. "What did you say?" he says, and she's all, "Uh, thanks," and he says, "I may cry. Thank you, young lady." And he squats down beside her, and then he's playing with the dinosaur and he says, "He's cute, what's his name?" like just when you're feeling sorry for the put-upon flight attendant he starts acting like an idiot and the girl gets all, he is NOT cute, he's a fearsome predator, and she starts rattling off the Tyrannosaurus rex's vital statistics. The steward asks if that's what she wants to be when she grows up. A dinosaur? "Yes, a paleontologist," she says. Then she says she wants to be a botanist after that, and yammers on about how her mom says she can do anything. And then this weird overdub has some disembodied woman's voice saying, "Yeah, wait until she grows up," like WHO SAID THAT and then the girl says it must be great to be an airline steward since you get to fly everywhere for free, and the despondent steward's weary façade is being cracked by this little girl's ray of sunshine, and then this guy says, "Yo, paying customer over here, can I get some service, pal?" so I guess this is the flight from New York. And the girl acknowledges that maybe sometimes the people aren't so nice.
The control tower. John Cusack and Billy Bob Thornton are thankfully nowhere to be seen. The controller's bringing the pilot in. The steward straps himself into his special seat, and we get shots of all the characters we'll come to know and love over the next hour: the sleeping woman. The rude asshole. The nervous jostler. The nervous jostled. Freaked-out nervous flyer in the bathroom, even though you're not allowed to be in there during descent. The future paleontologist looks out the window. "What's that?" she says. In the tower, the controller looks out the window just in time to see the plane disappear into thin air. This, naturally, concerns him. "Flight 134, where are you?" he says. The plane's gone from his radar screen, too, and some alarm's going off as he takes off his headset and goes to the tower window, mouth agape. "Where'd they go?"
Brand-new sepia-toned opening credits. Suitably creepy. I like them. Commercials.
In the control tower, the frantic controller's telling some suit-wearing guy that he had the plane on radar and visual, and it just disappeared. Just as he says this, the plane reappears. "Clear the runway!" he says, then picks up his headset. "Flight 134, do you read me?" "It was beautiful," says a blissed-out pilot.