The terminal in The Terminal never gets visually boring nor does it ever feel like it’s trying to look good, it just does. And Spielberg once again displays his gift for casually establishing the geography of a setting so firmly that you never get lost or confused. Here he does it with several elaborate crane shots of the terminal early on, but it’s only on reflection that you realize Spielberg’s been spoon feeding you visual information.

If the film’s visuals borrow from Hitchcock, its soul is pure Capra. Like so many Capraesque fables (from It Happened One Night, to Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, to It’s a Wonderful Life) The Terminal relies on an improbable, fairy-tale premise. Once you buy into that premise, the movie unfolds from one delightful set piece to the next. Here we have to believe that Tom Hanks’ Victor Navoski is stuck in the terminal and can’t/won’t leave. Accept that, and your off for a ride.

The ride includes some delightful subplots, like Victor’s budding romance with Catherine Zeta-Jones’ stewardess, or Victor playing matchmaker between two employees at the terminal. The movie has the lighter than air tone that made Catch Me if You Can such a joy to watch. The romance in particular is delicious, and it makes me more certain than ever that Spielberg may someday make a dazzlingly great romantic comedy.

All the supporting characters are quickly and sharply drawn and deeply and instantly engaging. Spielberg was, once upon a time, criticized for being more a technician than an “actor’s director.” That canard never had any validity (look at the performances in Jaws) but now I think it’s safe to say that Spielberg gets more consistently and uniformly great performances than any director working today. Only Soderberg even comes close.

In a film full of great acting turns, Tom Hanks, as usual, stands out. Hanks is as effortlessly brilliant as his director, and that’s saying something. His performance at times seems to be right out of a silent movie; he’s as deft a physical comedian and as emotionally compelling as Charlie Chaplin in this film. Hanks’ “Krakozhian” accent is every bit as convincing as his pitch perfect Boston and Alabamian accents in Catch Me if You Can and Forest Gump, but he never plays the accent for cheap laughs. Two minutes into the film, you’ve forgotten that this isn’t Hanks’ real accent.

The film is not as flawless as Spielberg’s best work. The plot creaks in places and relies too much on convenient coincidence to keep things moving. Victor’s motivation for wanting to go to New York just doesn’t resonate like it should. The film would probably play better 20 minutes shorter, and they missed a golden opportunity by not having a jazz classics score. These are all minor quibbles that wouldn’t matter too much, but the film’s big flaw, its ending, is less excusable.

I was totally with the film until its last act, and then it simply falls apart. It abandon’s Zeta-Jones’ character, leaving the romantic plot totally unresolved. The villain’s final decision is completely out of character and is made only to allow the film to end more quickly. The logic behind Vitor’s actions here is opaque. The whole last half hour of the film is a mess that even Spielberg and Hanks can’t charm their way out of.

It’s a shame. If they’d worked the ending through as carefully as the set up, this would be a classic. As it is, it’s just second-rate Spielberg.

THE TERMINAL (2004)
GRADE: B+