Oversentimental and Contrived Film Saved by Marvelous Hanks Performance

Rating: 7/10 (26 June 2004)

SPOILERS HEREIN!!!
Although Steven Spielberg is rightly considered to be one of the greatest (if not the greatest) filmmaker of the thirty years, his films sometimes have the tendency to overplay their sentimentality and rely excessively upon contrivance to deliver an upbeat story. The bad news is that "The Terminal" is no exception to this tendency. The good news is that Tom Hanks is the star, and his enormously charming and natural performance makes the film remarkably entertaining.
Victor Navorski (Hanks) is a visitor from a fictional Eastern European country who, upon landing at JFK, learns that the government of his country has been deposed and that his passport and visa are no longer valid. Because of this, he cannot neither return to his home country, nor can he leave the airport. The martinet-like Homeland Security chief (Stanley Tucci, who does remarkable things with a badly written part) wants Navorski out of his airport, and even at one point attempts to facilitate Victor's escape -- though Victor doesn't quite get the point. Consequently, Victor effectively lives at the airport, sleeping at one of the gates, and proves surprisingly resourceful at providing for himself by collecting luggage carts (for the quarter deposit) and working as a contractor on the repairs to the terminal.
Although the film contains several scenes that are genuine comic gems, the screenplay (by Sascha Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson) unfortunately resorts to largely one-dimensional and two-dimensional characterizations, as well as wild implausibilities (for example, how does Navorski continue working as a contractor in a federal airport AFTER Tucci learns what he's doing?) to sell the story. Tucci in particular draws a short straw in this respect, given a character who alternates between understanding, blind officiousness, and outright cruelty with little or no motivation. Catherine Zeta-Jones is no more fortunate in her rather inscrutable role; like Tucci, she gives it the best she has, and comes out somewhat the better for it, if for no other reason than her character is more likeable. Of the other crucial supporting characters -- a crusty, Indian janitor (Kumar Pallana), a black baggage handler (Chi McBride), Tucci's chief of security (Barry Shabaka Henley), a Hispanic caterer (Diego Luna), and the young customs officer whom the caterer is attracted to (Zoe Saldana) -- only the last two are written as marginally, three-dimensional characters. Spielberg himself doesn't resist the temptation to take every opportunity to milk the story or its characters for audience approval, making Victor nothing less than a veritable saint. While this may make the audience feel good, it comes fairly close to making the film ring hollow.
Which brings me to Hanks. Like James Stewart, Hanks has the uncanny ability to infuse any character with a sort of genuineness, and to do this without effort. This genuineness is what makes us root for Victor throughout, whether he's struggling to make a meal of crackers and condiments, facing off against Tucci or, in one of the film's best scenes, calming a potentially dangerous passenger. It is a truly wonderful performance, and all the more impressive because the script gives him less than optimal material to work with.
On the whole, a delightful film to watch, with some major script and directing speed bumps along the way. Thank God Hanks knows how and when to step on the brakes.