Steven Seagal stars in this high-octane thriller as John Sands, a secret operative used by the United States Air Force for those covert operations deemed too sensitive for the regular intelligence services. When his own Agency feels threatened by the knowledge he gained from past exploits -- they quickly imprison him and schedule a chemical wipe of his memories. Feeling betrayed by his Agency, John escapes the hi-tech detention center and plans to assimilate into society. Unfortunately, the Air Force has other plans for him. A top secret Stealth Bomber that uses the latest in stealth cloaking technology has been hijacked and it's their belief that John's the only man capable of getting it back before it falls into the hands of a terrorist group that could prove to be an unstoppable force.
Anyone who seeks out a Steven Seagal movie has certain expectations: Bone-crunchingly brutal martial arts action; spiritual or ecological wisdom uttered in Seagal's hoarse monotone; and one long relentless scowl. Flight of Fury
fails to deliver on all counts. Seagal plays an ex-military guy who's the only man who can retrieve a stolen stealth fighter. So he goes to Afghanistan, where he teams up with a sexy agent of some kind (Ciera Payton, making her cinematic debut) to shoot a bunch of Afghan mercenaries and fly away. The only plausible explanation for this movie's existence is that Seagal and his producers bought some stock footage of jet fighters and decided to build a story around it. The action scenes are murky, brief, and edited to compensate for Seagal's increasing bulk. The rote dialogue--co-written by Seagal--is recycled from a dozen other action movies. And Seagal can't even muster the energy to frown, let alone scowl. This inert lump of a movie is the latest in a series of clumsy, incompetent, straight-to-video clunkers from Seagal, who is cynically squeezing every dollar he can out of his long-suffering fanbase. --Bret Fetzer