The Terminal (2004)

Many years ago, when the blog wasn't even a remote idea, I was on a Tom Hanks watching spree. I don't know why, but I wanted to watch all of his movies. The Terminal I kept avoiding because I thought it was about someone terminally ill —no, I didn't read plots back then either. Today, after seeing it was from Spielberg, I decided to check it out. And quite frankly, I'm shocked Spielberg made such a film as it is so different. In a good way. 

The film is about Viktor Navorski (Tom Hanks), a man from the fictional Eastern European nation of Krakozhia who becomes stuck in the terminal of New York's JFK Airport as his country has been taken over in a coup, the US does not recognise the new nation and the borders of Krakozhia are closed. Forced to stay in the International Transit section until the war cools down, Viktor makes the airport his home and develops friendships with the people who work there.

As you can tell, the plot to The Terminal is far from being believable and realistic —it is indeed so far-fetched it could be classified as science fiction. It doesn't make a lot of sense either as it's often illogical, and there's a romantic subplot —actually, there's two of them— that makes the film quite confusing as it's hard to understand whether the story is supposed to be about immigration or just a love story. Despite this, despite the level of corny and cheesy it reaches, the thin and lighthearted story is an engaging, heartwarming one with a lot of cut and funny moments, one of those stories that make you laugh and cry and feel good.

And that happens because The Terminal cares more about its characters than the story it tells. Well-written characters with a nice characterization and development you won't find in here as pretty much all of them are stereotypes with no depth or realism whatsoever. However, there's something charming about them that makes you care about them and feel sympathy for them.

Especially toward Viktor who is beautifully portrayed by Tom Hanks. While it's not an Oscar-worthy performance, Hanks is totally believable as the naive, extremely trusting and always full of hopes man who finds himself in a limbo, accent, mannerism and all. He doesn't have a very good chemistry with Catherine Zeta-Jones, which is why the romance between their characters doesn't work, but he comes across as such a nice guy you feel hurt when he feels hurt.

DreamWorks Pictures

As for the rest of the cast, they are okay. Stanley Tucci, however, deserves a mention. He plays Dixon, the asshole/temporary customs director who tries his best to prevent Viktor from leaving the airport. Essentially, he is the villain. And he would be just a villain if it wasn't for the layers added to the character by Tucci's performance.

Chicago (2002)

Though it won Best Picture in 2003, I never bothered watching Chicago for one simple reason, it's a musical and I'm not really into them. Then Birgit picked it for the Blogging From A to Z April Challenge, it sounded fun and decided to watch it. And what can I say, it probably didn't deserve the Oscar but it's a fun musical.

In 1920s Chicago, Roxie Hart (Renée Zellweger), a housewife who dreams of becoming a vaudeville star, kills her lover (Dominic West) after finding out he was never going to make her famous. As he discovers her infidelity, Roxie's husband, Amos (), refuses to take the blame for the murder and Roxie is sent to jail, pending hanging. There she finally meets Velma Kelly (Catherine Zeta-Jones), the vaudeville star she admires the most, who is in for murder her husband and her sister --they were having an affair. Both represented by greasy lawyer Billy Flynn (Richard Gere), who is known for having his clients acquitted and making them famous, the two women start fighting for the fame. 

Based on the Broadway musical of the same name which in turn is based on the true story of Roxie Hart, the plot is pretty thin and stupid --I mean, they try to justify a second degree murder-- and yet it's witty and interesting enough to keep you glued to the screen to know how it will end, even though you predict how it is going to end.

Another interesting aspect of Chicago is its characters. They all are nasty, selfish people, and there's absolutely nothing redeeming about them but you can't help but like them and root for them, and the credits go to the actors. 

Renée Zellweger gives an exquisite performance as Roxie Hart, a scheming, manipulative woman who's always looking for attention. Roxie isn't the kind of character that has development, but the kind that slowly shows who she really is, somewhat of a psychopath, and Zellweger does a wonderful job delivering that. Her portrayal feels genuine, and she manages to be incredibly sweet, sarcastic and sexy too. Her singing and dancing aren't perfect which make her the perfect choice to play a woman who is not a singer nor a dancer but wants to become one. Hers, in my opinion, is the strongest performance of the film. 

Miramax Films

Zellweger gets great support from most of the rest of the cast. Catherine Zeta-Jones gives a pretty good performance as Velma Kelly, the ruthless, self-assured star, and her dancing and singing are on point. Did she deserve the Oscar for Supporting Actress? I'm not sure. Queen Latifah is good too as Mama, the corrupt warden of the women's prison, and John C. Reilly is delightful as Roxie's neglected, suffering husband. Richard Gere, on the other hand, is terrible as the lawyer as he looks like he'd rather be somewhere else. 

The musical numbers are quite entertaining and very well choreographed and yet I had a problem with them. They don't really move the plot forward and they are often interrupted with dialogue which is very annoying. I liked the idea of mixing reality and fantasy but it could have been handled better. They, however, allow us to know things about the characters in a more fun way. 

Visually, Chicago is very beautiful. From cinematography to sets to costumes, it's all great. Still, because of the flaws in the script and the execution, I don't think it should have won Best Picture.