The Terminal

By James C. Hess

As many readers of this space know, in addition to my duties herein, I am involved in a number of projects whose singular purpose is to discover new talent. Specifically, writing talent.

As many readers of this space also know I am currently involved in a writing competition. Not as a contestant, but as a judge.

What makes this interesting, excluding me, are certain facts that have come to light as the various stages of judging have been completed.

Fact number one: There is a lot of writing talent Out There.

Fact number two: There is a lot of writing talent Out There but, relatively-speaking, very little originality.

Fact number three: Of all the writing talent Out There, which saw fit to submit material to this particular writing competition, none of it submitted anything resembling comedy. None of it.

When I was first made aware of this particular fact I shrugged and said that perhaps it was merely a fluke, and by the time competition closed to submissions there would be at least one submission readily categorized as comedy.

I was wrong.

When the last call for submissions was made none of the submissions collected were comedy, and none of the submissions collected could be qualified as comedy.

Odd. Very odd. And it was a fact that was noticed not only by myself but by several other judges.

In recent weeks, as decisions have been made, as this submission was moved to the next stage, and that submission was discarded, conversations have come to existence, each asking the same questions: Where are the comedy submissions? Why aren't people with true and honest writing talent writing comedy?

To date a conclusion with regards to these questions has been drawn: Comedy is hard to do. Good comedy, more so. So when you encounter someone who can write comedy, good comedy, consider yourself blessed, and know you are witnessing nothing less than a miracle.

And when you encounter two people with the ability to produce comedy take a moment and say a big 'thank you' to the dude in charge: Today the cosmos shine upon you. Today you smile and laugh, and find life to be wonderful. Truly wonderful.

Today I smile and laugh, and find life to be wonderful. Truly wonderful. For today I am blessed, for I have witnessed nothing less than miracle.

And to those who made this possible I bow deep from the waist and say 'Thank you. THANK YOU.'

Mr. Steven Spielberg and Mr. Tom Hanks, each a master of comedy in his own right.

In "The Terminal" Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks have made a comedy. A perfect, sweet, kind, delicate, wonderful, touching, brilliant comedy. And the fact they have done this when, it seems, no one else is capable of doing so, well, when you see this film you, too, will say 'THANK YOU' to each one of them.

"The Terminal" is what comedy should be, but rarely is nowadays: It is almost perfect. It is filled with laughs, big laughs, but it never fights to get these laughs; it doesn't need to: It knows when to go for a joke, a laugh, and when to let comedy simply happen. There is reason for this, of course: A hero. His name is Viktor Navorski. He has arrived to a massive, vast American airport just as his country, his nation, Krakozia, has fallen in a coup.

Significant, these series of events? Absolutely, especially when it comes to Viktor: Because he has come from a country that no longer exists his passport and visa are worthless, he cannot go forward into America, and he cannot go back. So what to do? According to Dixon, the customs official (Stanely Tucci), he may remain in the airport, but he is not to set foot on American soil.

A premise contrived? It would be if it were not for director Spielberg and actor Hanks, aided and supported by screenwriters Sacha Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson. Collectively they create a dramatic, comedic, and visual tapestry that is at once true but kind, gentle and clever, producing a work that reminds one just how fragile and concerning the human condition is when humanity is allowed to screw things up with constructed systems and dictums.

Yet there is a quality to the film that transcends films and movies of this nature: Watching Hanks work his magic as an acting talent unrivaled I was reminded, easily of Charlie Chaplin, Buster Keaton, Harold Lloyd, in their best works, where comedy and tragedy come together to create a drama unmatched. Creation for such goes not only to Hanks but Spielberg as well, because Spielberg allows Hanks the opportunity, in time and space, to develop environments, situations, and settings that showcase his predicament and contrasts it delicately against the lives of those around him; those who seemingly have all the freedom they might need and then some.

As with any good comedy there is required here a foil or victim. In Viktor's case it is Dixon, the customs and immigrations agent, played by the aforementioned Tucci: Dixon is a man of rules and regulations but when the truth is had it is revealed he has no love or even respect for the rules, nor does he find pleasure and satisfaction in the certain misery and misfortune they provoke when enforced.

Consider as example of same the situation in which Viktor comes to learn about the quarters.

'The quarters,' Dixon observes, watching a surveillance monitor, featuring Viktor. 'He's found the quarters.'

The quarters in question come from returned luggage carts that Viktor finds and collects. He then uses the quarters he gathers to buy food from vendors in the airport.

Clever, yet simple, and very touching in the revelation: Viktor is the one thing Dixon never expected to encounter on the job: He is what he seems to be. He is what he claims to be. He has no motives, no intentions, no tactics of revenge upon others. And he does the one thing Dixon cannot understand: He trusts. Unconditionally.

Dixon, not surprisingly, wants him out of the terminal because Viktor cannot live there forever. Or can he? His actions suggest he is prepared to do just that.

'Why doesn't he just leave?' Dixon asks of his underlings one day as Viktor is observed standing near an unguarded door Dixon deliberately left open and unlocked. Why, indeed? Perhaps, because, by staying in the airport Viktor goes to embody what would happen if an individual were truly given freedom.

Dixon, as the foil, has a plan to get Viktor out of his life: He will pass him onto another legal jurisdiction. Therein is a problem: To pass Viktor on he has to rid of him, but Viktor, with child-like innocence, thwarts him again and again, with delightful comedic results.

Meanwhile Viktor becomes a fixture of sorts for other characters in the terminal he comes to know and befriend: Amelia, the flight attendant (Catherine Zeta-Jones, in a good, solid perform ace), who is having an affair with a married man, but who finds she can open her heart to this simple, very strange man; Gupta, the janitor (Kumar Pallanatucci), who leaves the floor of the terminal wet so he can watch passengers and travelers ignore the yellow signs he put out, warning of the slick surface, who subsequently slip and fall. It is, he says to Viktor, my only fun.

Then there is a food services employee (Diego Luna), who is in love with an INS official (Zoe Saldana), who uses Viktor as his go-between, to make his desires and intentions known.

At first Viktor seems a tragic figure, but over time he becomes a hero and pseudo-savior to these individuals and others, especially when he intervenes in a heart-breaking case: A Russian man has medicine he needs to carry to his dying father, but Dixon says it must stay in the United States. The man, not surprisingly, gets very upset over this decision, makes a hostage situation, and Viktor intervenes, producing a solution that all can accept, and do.

I will be the first to admit that when I first encountered Tom Hanks as an actor I was not impressed. First impressions tend to be deadly, owing much to their inherent prejudice. Fortunately, I came to my senses and watched this amazing acting talent grow. His is a talent that never seems to reach its peak, thankfully, because when a role such as this one comes along he plays it perfectly. He gets laughs, he gets applause, he gets respect, he gets more laughs, and he tells a wonderful story, thanks much to the direction and writing that support throughout.

"The Terminal" is a comedy, yes. But it is also a story. The sort of story the writing competition I am involved in seeks and, from time to time, finds. When such a thing is discovered you must cherish it. You must, because in time all is revealed. Often through a simple man with a hard to pronounce name.

About the Author:

James C. Hess graduated from the University of Colorado at Boulder, where he earned a Bachelor's Degree in English Literature, with an emphasis on Editorial Journalism and Film Studies.

Hess currently makes his home along the Front Range of the Colorado Rockies.

Article courtesy of http://www.suite101.com.