There’s a special kind of magic in stories about waiting—particularly when they’re set in places meant only for passing through.
Airports, for instance, are places of motion and departure, of goodbyes and arrivals, where people rush to their gates, often with one foot already in the place they’re going. But what if you found yourself suddenly unable to leave, stuck in that space that’s neither here nor there?
Jonathan Dove’s 1998 opera Flight and Steven Spielberg’s 2004 film The Terminal invite us into that waiting place, revealing how these transitory spaces can become mirrors of the human soul, revealing our needs, dreams, and capacity for resilience.
Mark your calendars for January 13 as we present a special screening of The Terminal at the VIFF Centre! Steven Spielberg’s heartwarming film follows Viktor Navorski, a man stranded in an airport who builds a life out of his unexpected circumstances. Join us to experience this inspiring story of resilience and human connection on the big screen. Tickets will be on sale soon—stay tuned and we will update this post with a ticket link.
The Story of Flight: An Opera of Hope and Humanity
In Jonathan Dove’s Flight, we meet a diverse group of people stranded overnight in an airport during a storm. They are forced to stay put, each one facing some personal storm of their own, and in their waiting, we see their vulnerabilities emerge. Dove drew inspiration for Flight from the story of Mehran Karimi Nasseri, an Iranian refugee who, in a twist stranger than fiction, lived in the departure lounge of Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris for nearly two decades, unable to enter France or return to Iran. Flight captures the universality of displacement and isolation while celebrating the hope for a better tomorrow.
Dove’s score is a revelation, shifting from light, playful motifs to haunting melodies that capture each character’s inner journey. The “Refugee’s Aria,” for example, is both heartbreaking and uplifting, a profound expression of longing from a man without a home. His words and Dove’s music together form an aching tribute to the human need for belonging.
The opera dives into the concept of “home” and all the different meanings it can hold. For some of these characters, home is a place they’re desperate to return to. For others, it’s a dream they’re afraid to reach for. By the end of Flight, these strangers have created a temporary home together, finding connection and solace in their shared predicament. Dove’s music—his use of overlapping voices, the delicate orchestration—guides us through this journey, letting us feel the unexpected beauty that can arise in moments of forced stillness.
A Closer Look at the Characters in Flight
Each character in Flight is wonderfully human, each caught up in their personal struggles, and Dove and librettist April De Angelis have given them stories that feel both specific and universal. Here’s a look at a few of the opera’s key players:
The Refugee: Based on Nasseri, he is the opera’s emotional anchor, a man who lives at the airport indefinitely, without a nation or a future. His “Refugee’s Aria” gives us a window into his sorrow and his longing for a life he’s been denied.
Bill and Tina: This married couple is in the throes of a turbulent relationship. Their story brings both humour and heartache, as they navigate the ups and downs of their marriage, using the airport as an unlikely stage for their conflicts and reconciliations. Dove’s music captures the emotional rollercoaster of their interactions with an intimacy that makes us laugh, cringe, and sympathize.
The Controller: Hovering above everyone, both literally and figuratively, the Controller is an ethereal figure, her voice reaching dizzying heights that seem otherworldly. She’s an authority figure, but her isolation mirrors that of the travelers below. She watches them, her high, floating notes creating an almost angelic or celestial aura, a reminder of the loneliness even in positions of power.
The Older Woman: Filled with nostalgia and yearning, she’s traveling to rekindle a romance from years past. Her music is tinged with melancholy, embodying the bittersweet nature of longing for someone you may never see again. She’s a character many can relate to—a reminder that sometimes, in pursuit of love, we reach for the impossible.
The Steward and Stewardess: Playful and flirtatious, these characters represent the temporary nature of connections in transit. Their interactions are fun and lighthearted, a counterpoint to the heaviness of the Refugee’s plight or the Older Woman’s nostalgia. They show us the side of airports that is all about fleeting, surface-level connections.
Each character, in their way, makes Flight much more than a story of people stranded in an airport. Through their interactions, we see glimpses of love, loneliness, ambition, regret, and resilience. Dove’s music captures these moods perfectly, with sweeping melodies for love, abrupt stops for confrontation, and haunting solos for those moments of pure, raw emotion.
Jonathan Dove: The Heart Behind the Music
Jonathan Dove was born in London in 1959, and his journey to becoming one of Britain’s most celebrated contemporary composers was shaped by a fascination with music’s ability to express emotion. After studying at Cambridge, he turned to opera, choral music, and other forms, known for his ability to capture the human spirit in his compositions. Dove is deeply interested in exploring ordinary human experiences, which is why his operas often focus on the lives of relatable, modern characters.
In Flight, Dove doesn’t shy away from the difficulties faced by people who are adrift. He mixes humour and heartache, his compositions blending traditional operatic elements with modern musical idioms to create a soundscape that’s as relatable as it is beautiful. In an interview, Dove once said he wanted to make opera “relevant to modern life,” and with Flight, he’s done exactly that.
The Making of Flight
Commissioned by Glyndebourne Festival Opera, Flight premiered in 1998, marking Dove’s breakthrough as a composer. He and librettist April De Angelis wanted to create a “contemporary operatic comedy” that would resonate with audiences today. Through meticulous research and inspiration from Nasseri’s true story, Dove and De Angelis crafted a work that has since been performed worldwide, with each production adding new layers to the opera’s themes of resilience and connection. Flight quickly became one of the most popular modern operas, with audiences finding meaning in its humour, pathos, and insight into what it means to be “in between.”
The Terminal: Spielberg’s Cinematic Ode to Resilience
In The Terminal, we meet Viktor Navorski, a traveler from the fictional country of Krakozhia, played with immense warmth by Tom Hanks. Viktor finds himself trapped in the purgatory of JFK Airport after his passport is rendered invalid due to a political upheaval back home. Cut off from the outside world, he becomes a man without a country, unable to enter the United States or go home.
What’s remarkable is that The Terminal isn’t a tragedy. Spielberg’s approach is hopeful, casting Viktor’s story as one of human resilience. Rather than giving up, Viktor makes the best of his situation. He finds friends, discovers a purpose, and, over time, transforms the airport from a place of confinement to a place where he can live, even thrive. Hanks’ portrayal brings a warmth and kindness to Viktor that feels timeless, a reminder of the human capacity for kindness, even in adversity.
Listen to Viktor’s Theme from The Terminal:
The film’s score, composed by John Williams, is deeply evocative. Viktor’s theme is both light and melancholic, underscoring the bittersweet nature of his journey. Williams uses repeated motifs to remind us of Viktor’s optimism in the face of challenges, a musical reflection of how he transforms the airport around him, breathing life into what would otherwise be a sterile, impersonal space.
Parallels Between Flight and The Terminal
In both Flight and The Terminal, airports are far more than stops on a journey—they’re places where people are forced to confront who they are and what they want. These spaces of waiting become transformative, where characters grapple with identity, love, and the need to belong.
Language plays a central role, too. Viktor’s broken English and the Refugee’s struggle with language highlight the isolation that comes with being an outsider. Yet in both stories, people find ways to communicate beyond words. The universality of gestures, kindness, and connection transcend language barriers, reminding us of the shared humanity that binds us all, even in unfamiliar territory.
Both works critique bureaucratic systems that often overlook individual needs. In Flight, we see the absurdity of airport bureaucracy; in The Terminal, Viktor is caught in a Kafkaesque trap. These works gently but powerfully suggest that compassion and understanding are far more valuable than rigid rules.
A Final Reflection: Finding Meaning in Transience
What makes Flight and The Terminal so powerful is how they speak to that feeling we all know—that sense of being “in between,” of waiting for something we can’t quite see yet. Both stories invite us to see airports not just as places of transit but as mirrors for our lives. In these waiting rooms, with their hum of announcements and distant echoes of conversation, we see glimpses of ourselves.
So next time you find yourself in a place of waiting, consider looking around with fresh eyes. The people beside you might be wrestling with their own hopes, losses, or dreams, and like the characters in Flight and The Terminal, they might just be waiting for a chance to connect. After all, even the longest waits can reveal moments of unexpected beauty and a reminder that, wherever we are, we’re never as alone as we might feel.
Don’t miss your chance to see Jonathan Dove’s acclaimed opera Flight live at Vancouver Opera! Dive into a story of resilience, hope, and unexpected connections on stage from February 10–18. Get your tickets here and be part of this unforgettable journey!