What makes the best plane film? | Jack Marshall’s column

Let’s talk popular plane things you can do in your little box once you’ve won the battle for control of the arm rest and have managed to convince the creepily starry-eyed grown man to put the shutter down on the blazing sunrise on your 6am flight so everyone can chill out.

One: sleep. A frustrating plane pastime for the simple reason that it’s very hard to do to any degree of satisfaction unless you have a loved one or a very accommodating stranger next to you to use as a pillow. Plus, sleeping on planes gives me a sore throat.

Two: read. A great option. Planes are boring (an interesting flight is probably a terrifying flight) so get stuck into that book. Simples.

Three: films. Absolutely the best option, with a certain caveat - it has to be the right film. The ideal plane film is a specific one with stringent criteria. This isn’t the time or the place for Oscar nominees, it’s about familiarity and distraction.

The last four plane films I watched were Mank, Uncut Gems, The Irishman, and Manchester by the Sea, all terrible choices. Mank: broody and stylised. Uncut Gems: the most stressful movie ever made. The Irishman: needs at least two intermissions. Manchester by the Sea: powerfully depressing.

Don’t get me wrong, all of these films are great movies. Watch them at home with the ability to pause them, stretch your legs, and make a brew and you’re golden. But on a plane you need irreverence, you need nostalgia, you need easiness. Pure, unadulterated entertainment.

And so, without further ado, I present the indulgence of Crazy Rich Asians, the fun of Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, Andy Samberg in Palm Springs, Shreks 1 and 2, the timelessness of The Naked Gun, and The Grand Budapest Hotel, the best movie ever made.

Thank me when you’re back from your jollies.