Here's the entire movie, in a nutshell: Air traffic controllers Nick Falzone (John Cusack) and Russell Bell (Billy Bob Thornton) pull down their pants, stand side by side, and yank their wangs for two hours, screaming at each other about who has the bigger penis.
"Pushing Tin" is like "Top Gun" for air traffic controllers, except they don't fly planes, aren't in very good shape, and are slightly less cool than Mr. Rogers. Five minutes into the movie, director Mike ("Four Weddings and a Funeral") Newell has a group of these bozos, led by Falzone, walking off a shift. They exit the building, whip out those aviator sunglasses, and flip them on like the strung-out cast of a bad 70s porn flick. From there, it's obvious that the movie is in trouble.
Bell doesn't come on the scene for a bit, and until that point, Falzone is obviously just the shit among air traffic controllers. He has an attractive wife (Cate Blanchett), and he can handle himself on the job. Then Bell shows up, and he's even calmer than Falzone and has an even better-looking wife (Angelina Jolie). Being that women are merely pawns and status symbols, Falzone promptly sleeps with Mrs. Bell, which causes both a personal and professional crisis for him.
Mike Newell is such a bad director that if he were making a film about the Apocalypse, he wouldn't know how to end it. Supposedly, the stress of being an air traffic controller is so great that these guys have to drive ridiculously fast, order food ridiculously fast, and stand in front of landing 747s just to wind down. By the end, the only conclusion the film draws is that you must sometimes act utterly idiotic in order to realize how precious life really is. Mike Newell, evidently considers life especially precious all the time.
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