Indeed, this documentary techno-thriller begins its bumpy ride with those very words. But as the play unfolds, it's clear that the crews of the six planes it depicts just moments before crashing were anything but calm.

Derived entirely, and nearly verbatim, from the "black box" transcripts of several real-life airline emergencies, the show emerges as a bare-bones, white-knuckle roller-coaster ride. With the exception of several well-placed sound cues, the production is devoid of sensational effects. The onstage crashes are signified by a simple blackout at scene's end. But a drum-tight ensemble of seven actors ratchets up the intensity of each situation so brilliantly that every vignette feels like a near-miss for the audience itself. It's an adrenaline-fueled experience, to say the least.

When "CVR" (which also stands for "cockpit voice recorder") originally opened in a tiny space in Manhattan in 1999, it was scheduled for a two-week run. Two years later, the show has been extended five times, profiled on national television, featured at airline conventions and medical training seminars nationwide, filmed by the Air Force as a training video for pilots and hailed by experts as an innovative tool for studying the psychology of stress.

And therein lies the play's nobler purpose. While each of the six crashes in the show is similarly catastrophic, the differing reactions and strategies of each flight crew are fascinating. On a 1996 Aeroperu flight, the pilot and co-pilot chaotically argue for control after they realize their data systems are inoperative. On a 1985 Japan Air Lines flight, the co-pilot sits like a deer in headlights, offering little assistance as the pilot tries to ferret out a solution. And rounding out the scenarios, the four-person crew on a 1989 United Airlines flight works a near-miracle of clearheaded tenacity in guiding an out-of-control DC-10 to the ground, saving half the passengers on board.

By offering a seat on these chilling journeys, "CVR" gives audiences a riveting, insightful look inside the most stressful situation a human being can face. But there's no denying the play's creepiness factor, either. "CVR" owes at least some of its success to its horror-movie rush. And no matter how diligently the company avoids sensationalizing the crashes, the play still carries a whiff of exploitation. The realization that 793 people died during the course of these crashes, now being played out for our entertainment, leaves an uncomfortable tightness in the chest long after the adrenaline has subsided.

Clearly, "Charlie Victor Romeo" won't appeal to everyone. Folks with an aversion to flight will probably want to skip this theatrical trip. But if the prospect of strapping in for a terrifying journey excites you, this 90-minute ride offers top-notch, captivating thrills.

Fasten your seat belts.

Carolyn Petrie is a Minneapolis free-lance writer.