Propeller One-Way Night Coach

In 1997, John Travolta published a children’s book loosely inspired by his own first, magical experience of flying. Almost thirty years later, he decided the novella was the perfect material for his directorial debut – which was promptly invited to Cannes record-breakingly early in the submissions phase. (At the film’s premiere, general delegate Thierry Frémaux admitted he was afraid of Berlin snatching it – and robbing him of the opportunity to bestow Travolta with a surprise honorary Palme d’Or.)

Propeller One-Way Night Coach tells the story of Jeff (eight-year-old Clark Shotwell), who has always been fascinated by aviation, to the point where, when his mother tells him the two of them will relocate to Los Angeles, all he can think about is the plane they will take. While the jet age has already dawned, the little family will travel in a propeller machine, overnight, with layovers and all.

With its contained narrative, the production’s duration is a bite-sized 61 minutes: just long enough to be officially called a feature but in essence, feeling more like a short. There is no conflict to speak of, no particular character development, nothing of those basic principles of fiction taught in film school, but this is obviously not where Travolta learned his craft. Rather, the outcome verges on an almost scientific experiment of trying to immortalise one’s own childhood, an attempt to create a time capsule of sorts.

The cult actor manages to vividly capture and cherish the wide-eyed wonder of his young protagonist. Whether it be through the evident excitement on his face, or via low-angled point-of-view shots gazing upwards in an idolising manner. There is a dreamlike quality to the endless hallways and passages of the airport, the gate’s stretch exaggerated by the experience of walking down it for the first time.

There are a few digital hiccups in the brief instances of computer-generated imagery that break the immersion of the nostalgic production design. The exterior of the hotel, in which Jeff and his mother have to stay for a few hours, is poorly rendered, with a floating facade signage, but these details might be corrected in time for the picture’s public release on Apple TV+.

To some, the mouthful of a title might feel uneventful, but despite the absence of a grander plot, Travolta succeeds in his mission of bottling childhood enchantment, distilling those precious years where everything is new and exciting and the world around us is spectacle enough.