One of those moments happened even before Bill Clinton’s impeachment. Just when the veteran producers thought they had a deal worked out with the Clinton White House, the key aide who had been helping them left, and they had to start negotiating all over again. When they finally struck a new deal, along came Monica. “We had to sit out the impeachment,” Schnall explains. Not only was their access in doubt, but National Geographic started getting nervous about whether Clinton was the right president to feature in this overtly patriotic film.
Clinton survived and so did the project. Ever conscious of his legacy, Clinton eventually stuck with the agreement to let National Geographic on board. But it wasn’t the president the producers really had to convince. It was Col. Mark Donnelly, the captain of Air Force One, who retired just last month. In the spring of 1999, Schnall and Wexler were summoned to the White House basement for a final review. In a dim subterranean room, they sat down with the key staff from the Air Force, the White House travel and press offices and a mysterious little outfit called “Whamo” after its acronym, WHMO, for the White House Military Office. “It was right out of ‘Dr. Strangelove’,” Schnall says.
The aides went around the table, each giving their final approval. Then all eyes turned to Colonel Donnelly. “Sir, do you agree with this?” the military aide asked the pilot. Wexler and Schnall had already gone back and forth over the years with the military, agreeing to all sorts of security restrictions: they would only shoot where allowed, they would not show the precise layout of the plane and they would let the Air Force edit footage to guard the plane’s military secrets. Now it was up to Donnelly. He looked steely as he eyed the group. “I don’t want to do it,” he said, “but I’ll do it.”
The day Wexler finally boarded Air Force One, he was determined to savor the hard-won moment. He sat back in the plush leather seat and closed his eyes. He was up in the VIP section near the front of the plane, close to the president. The farther forward you sit, the more important you are. Not surprisingly, reporters sit in the rear. Just as the plane was about to take off, Wexler heard: “Hello? Hello?” He opened his eyes. Bill Clinton was standing over him. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” the president said. Wexler was flustered. He stood up abruptly to shake Clinton’s hand just as the plane was about to lift off. “No, sit down,” Clinton said.
It was an inauspicious takeoff for a film that hadn’t seen the last of its logistical hoops. They filmed for eight months, mostly around the plane, spending a lot of time in Hangar 19 at Andrews Air Force Base’s 89th Airlift Wing. That’s home to the two identical 747’s that become “Air Force One” only when the president is on board. They are each a city block long and five stories high. On board, Wexler says, “We had full range of the plane as people began to feel comfortable with us.”
For the rest of us in the press corps, there are much stricter rules: you can’t go unescorted into any section ahead of you. Since the cabin right in front of ours is full of Secret Service agents, that has never been a temptation for me. The National Geographic crew had access to parts of the plane I probably will never see in person. At least I hope I don’t see the seven-mile-high hospital, where an operating table pulls down for midair surgery.
The film doesn’t give away any of the high-tech military gizmos (like the rumored escape pod), but it is full of fun details like how a ground crew hand checks the runway for debris and how at exactly three and a half hours before take off the chief mechanic tests the plane’s communication system-87 telephones, including 28 that are encrypted. The communication center takes up most of the top deck of the plane, which would usually be reserved for first-class passengers. With all that technology, these 747s can only seat 70 people compared to the usual 250 or so in commercial versions.
The documentary made me better appreciate just how much work goes into each trip near or far. The stewards even buy and cook the meals themselves on board for security reasons. I’ll never complain about the food again. Schnall and Wexler interviewed everyone from the chief steward to the carrier of the “football” (the briefcase holding the nuclear launch codes). What the filmmakers couldn’t share in military secrets they made up for with historical nuggets. Lyndon Johnson, of course, was sworn in on the plane after Kennedy’s assassination. Like presidents before and after him, Johnson used the “flying White House” as a campaign tool at home and a symbol of democracy abroad.
George W. Bush is no exception. He has used much of his flying time to woo members of Congress. The little I’ve seen of Bush on Air Force One (he usually doesn’t venture back to the press section), he seems more relaxed while on board. For many presidents, AF1 provides a respite from the daily harangue. President Jimmy Carter recalled how he would sometimes put on Bob Dylan, and he and Rosalynn would dance on board. Carter almost steals the show with his memories. He talks about how touched he was when President Ford sent the plane to pick him up in Georgia for the Inauguration. “I was so excited that when we drove from Plains down to Albany, to the airport, we forgot my mother,” Carter says.
The often humorous film was almost done, but it had taken so long that there was already a new president. They needed an interview with George W. Bush on board Air Force One. After nearly five years, the thought of negotiating with yet another White House was daunting. But Bush aides quickly took to the idea of him making an appearance in the historical program (the Air Force has made it clear that this will probably be the first and last documentary about the plane). “They [Bush aides] felt that it was extremely important that their man be in this movie,” Schnall says.
So in February, they were back on board for what they thought was their final interview. But as luck would have it, their equipment didn’t make it on board. Somehow it hadn’t gotten transferred off the press charter. So Schnall, who has won six Emmys, borrowed a video camera from the White House Communications Staff, which records the president wherever he goes. Just as Schnall was about to shoot Bush walking up the steps of the plane, it occurred to Press Secretary Ari Fleischer that Clinton would be appearing in the documentary on much higher quality 16mm film. He told Schnall to stop filming. “You’re going to let us back on?” Schnall asked of Fleischer before he would put down the video camera. They did about a week later. It was the shortest-and the longest-wait of the entire film.
title: “West Wing Story The Making Of Air Force One " ShowToc: true date: “2023-01-20” author: “Sandra Collins”
One of those moments happened even before Bill Clinton’s impeachment. Just when the veteran producers thought they had a deal worked out with the Clinton White House, the key aide who had been helping them left, and they had to start negotiating all over again. When they finally struck a new deal, along came Monica. “We had to sit out the impeachment,” Schnall explains. Not only was their access in doubt, but National Geographic started getting nervous about whether Clinton was the right president to feature in this overtly patriotic film.
Clinton survived and so did the project. Ever conscious of his legacy, Clinton eventually stuck with the agreement to let National Geographic on board. But it wasn’t the president the producers really had to convince. It was Col. Mark Donnelly, the captain of Air Force One, who retired just last month. In the spring of 1999, Schnall and Wexler were summoned to the White House basement for a final review. In a dim subterranean room, they sat down with the key staff from the Air Force, the White House travel and press offices and a mysterious little outfit called “Whamo” after its acronym, WHMO, for the White House Military Office. “It was right out of ‘Dr. Strangelove’,” Schnall says.
The aides went around the table, each giving their final approval. Then all eyes turned to Colonel Donnelly. “Sir, do you agree with this?” the military aide asked the pilot. Wexler and Schnall had already gone back and forth over the years with the military, agreeing to all sorts of security restrictions: they would only shoot where allowed, they would not show the precise layout of the plane and they would let the Air Force edit footage to guard the plane’s military secrets. Now it was up to Donnelly. He looked steely as he eyed the group. “I don’t want to do it,” he said, “but I’ll do it.”
The day Wexler finally boarded Air Force One, he was determined to savor the hard-won moment. He sat back in the plush leather seat and closed his eyes. He was up in the VIP section near the front of the plane, close to the president. The farther forward you sit, the more important you are. Not surprisingly, reporters sit in the rear. Just as the plane was about to take off, Wexler heard: “Hello? Hello?” He opened his eyes. Bill Clinton was standing over him. “I just wanted to introduce myself,” the president said. Wexler was flustered. He stood up abruptly to shake Clinton’s hand just as the plane was about to lift off. “No, sit down,” Clinton said.
It was an inauspicious takeoff for a film that hadn’t seen the last of its logistical hoops. They filmed for eight months, mostly around the plane, spending a lot of time in Hangar 19 at Andrews Air Force Base’s 89th Airlift Wing. That’s home to the two identical 747’s that become “Air Force One” only when the president is on board. They are each a city block long and five stories high. On board, Wexler says, “We had full range of the plane as people began to feel comfortable with us.”
For the rest of us in the press corps, there are much stricter rules: you can’t go unescorted into any section ahead of you. Since the cabin right in front of ours is full of Secret Service agents, that has never been a temptation for me. The National Geographic crew had access to parts of the plane I probably will never see in person. At least I hope I don’t see the seven-mile-high hospital, where an operating table pulls down for midair surgery.
The film doesn’t give away any of the high-tech military gizmos (like the rumored escape pod), but it is full of fun details like how a ground crew hand checks the runway for debris and how at exactly three and a half hours before take off the chief mechanic tests the plane’s communication system-87 telephones, including 28 that are encrypted. The communication center takes up most of the top deck of the plane, which would usually be reserved for first-class passengers. With all that technology, these 747s can only seat 70 people compared to the usual 250 or so in commercial versions.
The documentary made me better appreciate just how much work goes into each trip near or far. The stewards even buy and cook the meals themselves on board for security reasons. I’ll never complain about the food again. Schnall and Wexler interviewed everyone from the chief steward to the carrier of the “football” (the briefcase holding the nuclear launch codes). What the filmmakers couldn’t share in military secrets they made up for with historical nuggets. Lyndon Johnson, of course, was sworn in on the plane after Kennedy’s assassination. Like presidents before and after him, Johnson used the “flying White House” as a campaign tool at home and a symbol of democracy abroad.
George W. Bush is no exception. He has used much of his flying time to woo members of Congress. The little I’ve seen of Bush on Air Force One (he usually doesn’t venture back to the press section), he seems more relaxed while on board. For many presidents, AF1 provides a respite from the daily harangue. President Jimmy Carter recalled how he would sometimes put on Bob Dylan, and he and Rosalynn would dance on board. Carter almost steals the show with his memories. He talks about how touched he was when President Ford sent the plane to pick him up in Georgia for the Inauguration. “I was so excited that when we drove from Plains down to Albany, to the airport, we forgot my mother,” Carter says.
The often humorous film was almost done, but it had taken so long that there was already a new president. They needed an interview with George W. Bush on board Air Force One. After nearly five years, the thought of negotiating with yet another White House was daunting. But Bush aides quickly took to the idea of him making an appearance in the historical program (the Air Force has made it clear that this will probably be the first and last documentary about the plane). “They [Bush aides] felt that it was extremely important that their man be in this movie,” Schnall says.
So in February, they were back on board for what they thought was their final interview. But as luck would have it, their equipment didn’t make it on board. Somehow it hadn’t gotten transferred off the press charter. So Schnall, who has won six Emmys, borrowed a video camera from the White House Communications Staff, which records the president wherever he goes. Just as Schnall was about to shoot Bush walking up the steps of the plane, it occurred to Press Secretary Ari Fleischer that Clinton would be appearing in the documentary on much higher quality 16mm film. He told Schnall to stop filming. “You’re going to let us back on?” Schnall asked of Fleischer before he would put down the video camera. They did about a week later. It was the shortest-and the longest-wait of the entire film.
