There’s a certain irony in this, since Zemeckis has always seemed a kind of Spielberg clone (no great shock there, since Spielberg produced a number of Zemeckis’ projects). The specifics have merely been changed to appear new: Strand Hanks in an airport he can’t leave rather than on a desert island, give him a Planter’s peanut can rather than a mysterious Fed-Ex package, and substitute an array of cute, comical characters for a volleyball - et voila, instant movie. There’s a lot more connection between Spielberg’s film and Cast Away, Robert Zemeckis’ Hanksian crowd-pleaser from four years ago, than there is to Nasseri’s story. Though based - oh so loosely - on the true story of Iranian traveler Mehran Karimi Nasseri, this is essentially Cast Away at J.F.K. Pavlov’s famous dogs - you may want to think twice before subjecting yourself to the interminable Terminal. But for the more cynically minded - those who feel a twinge of something other than warm fuzziness when being as shamelessly manipulated as one of Mr. And, in that case, add a star to my rating and read no further.
DIEGO LUNA THE TERMINAL MOVIE
This is to say that if you think Spielberg at his most soft-centered and manipulative is the bee’s knees, and that Hanks in much the same mode is the lobster’s dinner shirt, then this meandering movie is likely going to please you just fine. “For people who like this sort of thing,” he is reported to have said, “this is the sort of thing they will like.” And regardless of whether old honest Abe ever said any such thing, it’s the best way I can think of to describe The Terminal, the latest Spielberg-Hanks offering. There’s a story - quite possibly apocryphal - that Abraham Lincoln once agreed to do a product endorsement.
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