The Terminal is quite possibly Steven Spielberg’s shallowest and most sentimental entry to date, and yet, it’s also his most lighthearted and one of his most fun.

Victor Navorski (Tomn Hanks) is a tourist from an invented east European country where there has been an uprising while Viktor was on the plane. Just arrived in the United States, the US no longer accepts his passport because they no longer recognize his country and Viktor is forced to stay in the airport until further notice. Much to the dismay of the airport director (Stanley Tucci), who wants Viktor out of his airport but cannot legally get him out, the problems in Viktor’s homeland don’t settle for many months.

In the meantime, Viktor makes himself at home in the foreign airport, eventually learning English and struggling for ways to find food. He makes friends with some illegal aliens at work in the airport, including Kumar Pallana of Wes Anderson fame and Chi McBride of Boston Public. He also falls for an emotionally flighty airline attendant named Amelia (Catherine Zeta-Jones), whom we’re supposed to believe reads thick history books.

I love the character of Victor Navorski. His foreignness is sometimes played a bit strong – Amelia tells him she appreciates men who keep their hands in their pockets and so he literally puts his hands into his pockets – but maybe it was just that Hanks was able to convince us that this is a real guy. His genuine good nature helps him quickly become as likable as a film character can be.

The film does get itself into some dangerous territory in terms of sappiness, but I bought it. In fact, I loved it. Partly because such goodness is so rarely seen on the screen anymore, and partly because, despite multiple minor contrivances, I think it was fundamentally honest. Victor’s goodness was bright enough to bring images of Les Miserables.

And The Terminal seems to be aware of its sentimentality. At one point, it seems to say, “I know, but I don’t care” and pushes the sentimentality to the limit. Bright, but soft lights shine during moments of hope and Spielberg’s long, sweeping takes underscore the soft tone of the film.

The script does have some serious problems, however. Many of the scenes feel disjointed and there is no real momentum either in terms of plot or theme. At times it feels as static as waiting in an airport terminal. The films finale also feels like it doesn’t know what to do with itself – like a song with a fade out ending played live. The relationship between Viktor and Amelia, though cute at times, often feels clunky and aimless. In some respects, it almost feels like the mandatory side romance that’s unnecessarily tacked on. But I’m still glad it’s there.

I’m glad everything’s there. I could never stop laughing at anything Kumar said or did – to the point that I thought I was annoying other people in the audience. He’s almost as effective here as he was in The Royal Tenenbaums, and even more prominent. For a minor character, his change of heart is surprisingly affecting as his “do you have an appointment?” mantra morphs from something initially cold and selfish to something that ultimately couldn’t be warmer.

Though seemingly flawed in so many ways, The Terminal’s charm is such that I couldn’t help but give in.

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