Last Flight Home

When news hit that French cinema master Jean-Luc Godard chose to end his life via assisted suicide in Switzerland just weeks ago, many interpreted it as the act of an iconoclast dying on his own terms. Given his artistic stature, the decision was perceived as the ultimate statement on the same freedom that characterized his filmic oeuvre.

Yet, as proven in Ondi Timoner’s unbelievably personal, profoundly bittersweet, and occasionally disquieting documentary “Last Flight Home,” having agency over one’s final departure isn’t exclusively reserved for those existing in conflict with the status quo. Her father, Eli Timoner, no less remarkable than Godard to his loved ones, was resolute on exercising California’s End of Life Option Act—only available to terminally ill adults.

But while several European nations protect this course of action within stringent limitations, on this shore—where even the right of pregnant people to an abortion elicits irrational reactions from religious sectors of the population—the topic remains controversial. Only 11 states in this country permit what’s known as “medical aid in dying.” 

Timoner, however, doesn’t concern herself with any ideological debate over the morality of her elderly dad’s chosen passage into the afterlife. Instead, she illustrates the value of people having this resource through her family’s first-hand experience. For her, the subject transitioned from theoretical talking point to a hard-to-face reality. Still, the lack of big-picture context on the issue ultimately comes across as a missed opportunity to inform.

Once Eli, bedridden and in need of around-the-clock care, demands the countdown to his death start with an initial doctor’s assessment, he never changes his mind. The last 15 days leading up to the event provide “Last Flight Home” with a built-in structure to which the filmmaker attaches multiple interviews with her siblings: Rachel, a rabbi, and David; as well as their mother Lucy at different stages in the ordeal of confronting mortality.

As clear as the project's arc is, Timoner’s assembly of the interviews, minimal archival elements, and footage of Eli tends to be disjointed with unflattering editing choices—particularly the transitions between each of the days we witness and even within each of the segments per a single day. The overall aesthetic of this effort is more akin to that of an episodic reality television series than inventive storytelling.

It’s only once we are acquainted with the nuclear family, one third into this explicitly finite story, that Timoner shares details on Eli’s 1982 stroke that left him partially paralyzed for the next 40 years and of his once successful professional career as a higher-up at the now defunct air carrier Air Florida. But the bulk of the images immortalize Eli as he lovingly and lucidly interacts with in-person visitors and loved ones over Zoom to say goodbye despite his weakened state.

Besides the impressive number of encounters, it’s the warmth and sincerity in all of them—including longtime friends and former employees—that communicates the kindness that characterized Eli. There’s a soothing luxury, it may seem, to knowing when your last day will be because it allows time for making amends and unhurried farewells.