3. The film should be new. It is so much nicer to see a new film on a plane than an old one. Aeroplane films are especially susceptible to the fetish of the new-and they need the audience to be excited, not least because the quality and size of the screen is such that the viewing experience is almost certain to be less satisfying than an ordinary film experience, possibly even less satisfying than a book, a magazine, or even-heaven save us-than a conversation.

2. The film must be sentimental. Its motivation must be love and its dramatic impetus must come through a loss (preferably, though not necessarily, of the love). Airports are maudlin places, full of regrets, hopes, and fears-aeroplane films work best when they use all of these mid-level emotions and help the passengers channel all these feelings into feelings about the film in an act of high sublimation. High Crimes, which I saw on one of the flights, was new to me and was exactly about a love and a loss. A subplot involves the potential redemption of Morgan Freeman from his alcoholism, but the main story is about the loss of freedom and is arranged around the 'love' of a lawyer for her soldier husband. So simple but so cathartic.

1. Most importantly, and often forgotten, the film must be plot driven. Neither the breathtaking cinematography of Bertolucci nor the intricate details of Greenaway respond particularly well to the four inch format. In case this sounds like snobbishness, neither do any of the films that depended on technical advances for an effects-driven appeal: Dante's Peak, Twister, A Perfect Storm, Starship Troopers. Kidnap films, courtroom films, detective films are often excellent. Note that while both Gosford Park and A Beautiful Mind have plots, Robert Altman and Bob Balaban's success depends more on acting, character, and setting than the plot which, however devious, is little more than a device to tell the guests when to leave. But A Beautiful Mind, as with other redemption biographies, is driven without cease through a life story. It drags us through the plot of a life and deposits us at the other end. In this case we are as sorry to bid farewell to the imaginary characters that we have come to know through the life of John Nash, as he is to his own imaginary characters.

The major ideas of my list are nothing new. Airlines and filmmakers are aware of these priorities and of the similarity of this list to any list of what makes a good video for home viewing. However, since these exacting criteria for aeroplane films are far from the criteria for good art I think that the genre should be more explicitly recognized. A level of diversity in filmmaking is crucial to the development of cinema, and to the recognition of its broad appeal. It won't be long before we can watch beer commercials on the refrigerator, soap operas in the shower, and sitcoms on the toilet. Each of these mini-genres needs to be recognized. I realize that this sounds arch, but I mean it in all earnestness-perhaps it's time for the Academy to reward those who deserve it, and give Ron Howard the Oscar for Best Aeroplane Film of 2002.

Dan Friedman is a contributing editor of Zeek Magazine.

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