How Accurate Is The Film About The Andes Mountain Plane Crash?

During a holiday, I returned to my hometown to visit my family. My family’s private jet was under maintenance. The newly hired housekeeper mistakenly booked an economy-class ticket. While I was boarding, I ran into my first love, Brooke Smith, and her new boyfriend, Simon Xanders. They mocked me for flying in economy class. They laughed at me for being a country bumpkin heading to Nework. I ignored them. Then, I accidentally discovered the pilot, Lucas Wallace’s secret. His wife had been cheating on him. It turned out he had been raising another man’s child for over a decade. He wanted to take the entire plane down with him. I knew how to fly a plane. I urged everyone to subdue the pilot and let me make an emergency landing. Yet they mocked and humiliated me relentlessly. Then, the plane plunged sharply toward the ground. Only then did they finally panic.

As the only expert in the world capable of rescue dives below 3,000 feet, I received a once-in-a-lifetime salvage contract worth tens of millions of dollars. I had dived in those same waters over a decade ago. My son's research submersible had been damaged on the ocean floor. After his oxygen ran out, he suffocated in the dark. The grief nearly destroyed me. My husband, Griffin Lattimer, held me through it, staying by my side through countless miserable nights. I found out later that he had personally redirected the only rescue vessel capable of reaching the depths our son was at to save his childhood friend's daughter. That girl had merely choked on a mouthful of water in the shallows. I divorced Griffin and threw myself into deep-sea salvage like a woman possessed, diving over and over until I knew the undercurrents of those waters better than I knew my own home. I never wanted another child to die the way mine did. Today brought the same stretch of ocean, the same crushed hull, the same depleted oxygen, and the same impossible odds. When I opened the client's file, I went completely still. I recognized the name and face inside instantly. I would never forget either of them for as long as I lived. I smiled and slid the folder back across the table to my partner. "I can't take this one."

My fiancé's first love was taking photos on a cliff before the landslide. To save her, he actually left me behind on the crumbling edge. I pleaded with him to save me. "Lucy isn't physically strong—she can't handle this alone. You've always been resilient. I'll get Lucy to safety first, then come back for you." Their silhouettes vanished over the ridge. After a brief commotion, everything went silent. Including me, with my freshly sprained ankle. When he saw the news of my death, he completely fell apart.

I've kicked my 28-thousand-dollar high-tech drone into the lake. In my previous life, when my company held a team-bonding session by camping out in the mountains, my colleague, Melissa Schubert's beloved pet dog—that she views as her own son—has gotten lost in the woods. With tears trickling down her cheeks, she tugs at my sleeve. "I can't live without Max! Please use your drone to look for him!" Eager to help Melissa out, I immediately power on my drone and start scouring the woods for Max. But Melissa thinks I'm being far too slow on the controller, so she snatches it from me and starts messing around with the controls. As a result, the drone spirals out of control and crashes into the woods. As soon as its battery explodes, it starts a forest fire immediately. But when faced against the police, Melissa doesn't hesitate to throw me under the bus. "Lauren was the one who kept flaunting her stupid drone! Not only did she set fire to the mountain, but she also killed my dog!" On top of having to pay a huge fire insurance claim, I also get sentenced by the court, leaving me with a criminal record. My dad is forced to work at a construction site just to help me gather the funds needed for the compensation. That's when he accidentally falls off the scaffolding, resulting in him getting paralyzed permanently. All of my relatives have also cut ties with us. When I open my eyes again, I've returned to the cliffside on the day of the camping trip. This time, I don't hesitate to kick my drone into the lake. A second later, Melissa rushes to me while bawling at the top of her lungs. "My dog has gone missing! Quick, help me look for him with your drone!" I turn around to look at her. "You should be calling the police and asking a professional search-and-rescue team for help if you want to look for your dog. Why are you looking for me instead?"

A fierce storm erupts on a mountain peak at 25,561 feet, trapping me in the mountain camp under heavy snow. My husband, the leader of the mountain excursion squad, ignores my desperate pleas and hands the last oxygen tank to his beloved true love. "You're a professional climber—you won't die from missing a few breaths," he snaps. "Olivia has always been frail. Without oxygen, she's done for!" I watch as the two of them lean on each other, making their way down the cliffside, and I fall into complete despair. He's already forgotten that my body hasn't been able to survive without oxygen at high altitudes since saving him two years ago.

On the snowy mountain, Shawn Foster's neighbor, Susan Taylor, suffered from altitude sickness. He blamed me for not bringing supplies in time. He tied me up and left me on the mountain, five thousand meters above sea level. "You should experience the pain Susan went through." I rushed up the mountain to find them, completely forgetting that I was already exhausted. Without an oxygen supply, I gasped for air desperately. He held Susan in his arms and headed down the mountain. I begged him for mercy, but he did not even glance at me. I struggled, but I could not break free from the Prusik knot he tied himself. The same knot I once taught him. Three days later, he asked his colleagues about my whereabouts. "I would never have forgiven her so quickly if it's not Susan's kindness." But he did not know—I had long been buried beneath the snow.