An immigrant (Hanks) fleeing the war that ravages his tiny Eastern European homeland finds himself stuck in the terminal of one of New York City's airports when the time of his landing coincides precisely with the point at which the war causes his nation of origin to no longer exist, meaning that his passport and paperwork are no longer valid. As a man without a home, he takes up residence in the terminal itself, befriending the staff of the airport, and falling in love with an airline flight attendant. [TRAILER]

STEVEN SNYDER'S REVIEW

“You’re living at Gate 67? Why?”

Viktor Navorski (Tom Hanks) is an immigrant without a home, a foreigner without a nation. While flying to America, his country erupts in a coup, its government is overthrown, and now he finds himself without a viable passport. He cannot step on American soil, but can also not return home to a defunct nation. As the airport’s security director, Frank Dixon (Stanley Tucci), says, he has slipped through a “crack” in the system.

It is a difficult premise to swallow, but one that becomes more palatable for two reasons: The blazing political satire that erupts from “The Terminals” tepid comedic surface and the tour-de-force performance from Tom Hanks.

Hanks bears the burden of this far-fetched film, and nearly pulls off the impossible triumph of justifying the “why” in the question above. Viktor is a character who knows almost no English, who has no friends, whose every interaction seems awkward and forced and who, worst of all, constantly finds himself torn between emotions of relief, grief, infatuation and loneliness.

Then again, Hanks has stopped taking the easy path with his roles. Viktor may not be the most difficult of Hanks’ parts, but he is a worthy challenge for the star of “ Philadelphia,” “Cast Away” and “Forrest Gump.”

“The Terminal” is literally the story of Viktor’s life at the airport – how he slowly learns the language, the culture and the economic system, and then how he befriends the airport’s employees, secures a job and even finds a love interest in Amelia (Catherine Zeta-Jones), a flight attendant who returns to the terminal every other week.

The reason we buy the premise and this film’s unusual mix of melodrama, comedy and romance is that Hanks and screenwriters Sacha Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson (“Catch Me If You Can”) keep Viktor grounded in realistic interactions. He takes life as it comes, whether it consists of hostile confrontations, affectionate conversations or friendly poker games, and each piece of the puzzle feels natural within this quirky fake bubble. Consider when Viktor applies for airport jobs and then waits dutifully by the pay phone he gives as his contact information ,or when he serves as the intermediary between a female security guard and a love-struck kitchen employee.

The comedy’s slapstick and bits have a similar humanism to them. I keep returning to a running gag, in which the janitor mops the floor only to watch scurrying and distracted travelers slip on the wet tile. What’s funny here is not the sight gag of the crashing people, but the cynical grin from an unnoticed man who knows the score all too well.

With this grounding, the film’s political messages are that much more affecting and arresting. Viktor’s predicament is due to the newly-created and always-frantic Department of Homeland Security, which puts Dixon in the position of wanting to wash his hands of Viktor rather than help him. In one particularly insidious moment, he encourages Viktor to leave the airport even though it’s illegal, just so that he can be arrested and move to another’s jurisdiction. Add to this the airport’s bureaucracy, its overloaded customs traffic and a haunting scene involving a traveler desperate for Canadian prescription drugs to save his father, and “The Terminal” emerges as a political commentary that pulls no punches.

But it’s all for naught in the end. Just as director Steven Spielberg (“Catch Me If You Can”) has avoided grand and implausible gestures early on, an unneeded final chapter is packed full of exaggerated standoffs and sentimental flourishes that not even Hanks can tie to reality.

Much like Viktor’s plight, “The Terminal” is a film in limbo, always existing in the gray area between genres and formulas. Granted, I can’t think of an ending that would have “worked” for the story, but the climax, as it stands now, is a heartbreaking and overdone letdown.

If only he could have stayed at Gate 67…

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