Political movies about backroom negotiations need not be dry or heavy-handed, as Charlie Wilson’s War delightfully proves. Based on the true story of playboy congressman Wilson’s efforts to fund Afghanistan’s defense against the Soviet invasion of the 1980s, the film is borne along on breezy attitude and a peppery script by West Wing scribe Aaron Sorkin. Wilson, played by Tom Hanks (who also produced), is the perfect hero for this kind of tale, because there’s nothing perfect or heroic about him: He’s a highball-swilling, fanny-pinching gadabout who becomes radicalized on the issue of helping the Afghans against their mighty aggressor. He has help in the form of a right-wing Texas anti-Communist (Julia Roberts) with a genius for raising money, and a sardonic CIA operative (Philip Seymour Hoffman, stealing the show) who lacks all the social skills Wilson has in abundance. Sorkin’s syncopated speech is just the ticket for director Mike Nichols, who understands exactly how to keep this kind of political comedy popping (the complicated story comes in at a hair over 90 minutes, amazingly). Some scoundrels are on the right side of the angels, and the movie’s Charlie Wilson is one of them. –Robert Horton
Rating: 
Critics and controversy aside, The Da Vinci Code is a verifiable blockbuster. Combine the film’s huge worldwide box-office take with over 100 million copies of Dan Brown’s book sold, and The Da Vinci Code has clearly made the leap from pop-culture hit to a certifiable franchise. The leap for any story making the move from book to big screen, however, is always more perilous. In the case of The Da Vinci Code, the plot is concocted of such a preposterous formula of elements that you wouldn’t envy screenwriter Akiva Goldsman, the man tasked with making this story filmable. The script follows Dan Brown’s book as closely as possible while incorporating a few needed changes, including a better ending. And if you’re like most of the world, by now you’ve read the book and know how it goes: while lecturing in Paris, noted Harvard Professor of Symbology Robert Langdon (Tom Hanks) is summoned to the Louvre by French police to help decipher a bizarre series of clues left at the scene of the murder of the chief curator. Enter Sophie Neveu (Audrey Tautou), gifted cryptologist. Neveu and Langdon team up to solve the mystery, and from there the story is propelled across Europe, ballooning into a modern-day mini-quest for the Holy Grail, where secret societies are discovered, codes are broken, and murderous albino monks are thwarted… oh, and alternative theories about the life of Christ and the beginnings of Christianity are presented too, of course. It’s not the typical formula for a stock Hollywood thriller. In fact, taken solely as a mystery, the movie almost works–despite some gaping holes–mostly just because it keeps moving. Brown’s greatest trick was to have the entire story take place in one day, so the action is forced to keep moving, despite some necessary pauses for exposition. As a screen couple, Hanks and Tautou are just fine together but not exactly memorable; meanwhile Sir Ian McKellen’s scenery-chewing as pivotal character Sir Leigh Teabing is just what the film needed to keep it from taking itself too seriously. The whole thing is like a good roller-coaster ride: try not to think too much about it–just sit back and enjoy the trip. –Daniel Vancini
Destined to become a holiday perennial, The Polar Express also heralded a brave new world of all-digital filmmaking. Critics and audiences were divided between those who hailed it as an instant classic that captures the visual splendor and evocative innocence of Chris Van Allsburg’s popular children’s book, and those who felt that the innovative use of “performance capture”–to accurately translate live performances into all-digital characters–was an eerie and not-quite-lifelike distraction from the story’s epic-scale North Pole adventure. In any case it’s a benign, kind-hearted celebration of the yuletide spirit, especially for kids who have almost grown out of their need to believe in Santa Claus. Tom Hanks is the nominal “star” who performs five different computer-generated characters, but it’s the visuals that steal this show, as director Robert Zemeckis indulges his tireless pursuit of technological innovation. No matter how you respond to the many wonders on display, it’s clear that The Polar Express represents a significant milestone in the digital revolution of cinema. If it also fills you with the joy of Christmas (in spite of its Nuremberg-like rally of frantic elves), so much the better. –Jeff Shannon
Like an airport running at peak efficiency, The Terminal glides on the consummate skills of its director and star. Having refined their collaborative chemistry on Saving Private Ryan and Catch Me if You Can, Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks mesh like the precision gears of a Rolex, turning a delicate, not-very-plausible scenario into a lovely modern-age fable (partly based on fact) that’s both technically impressive and subtly moving. It’s Spielberg in Capra mode, spinning the featherweight tale of Victor Navorski (Hanks, giving a finely tuned performance), an Eastern European who arrives at New York’s Kennedy Airport just as his (fictional) homeland has fallen to a coup, forcing him, with no valid citizenship, to take indefinite residence in the airport’s expansive International Arrivals Terminal (an astonishing full-scale set that inspires Spielberg’s most elegant visual strategies). Spielberg said he made this film in part to alleviate the anguish of wartime America, and his master’s touch works wonders on the occasionally mushy material; even Stanley Tucci’s officious terminal director and Catherine Zeta-Jones’s mixed-up flight attendant come off (respectively) as forgivable and effortlessly charming. With this much talent involved, The Terminal transcends its minor shortcomings to achieve a rare degree of cinematic grace. –Jeff Shannon
If you’ve never enjoyed Alec Guinness in the classic 1955 British comedy that inspired it, the Coen brothers’ remake of The Ladykillers may well prove hilarious. For starters, it’s got Tom Hanks in a variation of the Guinness role, eccentrically channeling Colonel Sanders, Tennessee Williams, and Edgar Allan Poe in his southern-fried performance as Prof. Goldthwait Higgins Dorr, Ph.D. (named after an actual arts institute curator from the Coens’ native Minnesota), a deliciously verbose con man who needs a secret headquarters for his five-man plot to rob a riverboat casino moored on the Mississippi. In the film’s funniest and least-caricatured role (and even she can’t elude the Coens’ comedic stereotyping), Irma P. Hall plays the churchgoing widow who rents a room to Dorr, whose crew of “musicians” (in keeping with the original’s plot) use the lady’s root cellar to tunnel to the casino’s cash-rich counting room. Rampant mishaps ensue, the body count rises among Dorr’s band of idiots (including Marlon Wayans, spouting nonstop profanities), and the Coens put their uniquely stylish stamp on everything. It’s a funny movie, allowing for some nagging flatness to the material, but if you’ve seen the original (and other vintage comedies from the heyday of Britain’s low-budget Ealing Studios), you’ll eventually wonder, what were they thinking? Accounting for all the qualities that grace any Coen movie (this being the first time the brothers have officially shared directorial credit), this revamped Ladykillers is a mixed blessing, both entertaining and superfluous. –Jeff Shannon
An enormously entertaining (if somewhat shallow) affair from blockbuster director Steven Spielberg. Leonardo DiCaprio stars as Frank Abagnale, Jr., a dazzling young con man who spent four years impersonating an airline pilot, a doctor, and a lawyer–all before he turned 21. All the while he’s pursued by a dedicated FBI agent named Carl Hanratty (Tom Hanks), whose dogged determination stays one step behind Abagnale’s spontaneous wits. Both DiCaprio and Hanks turn in enjoyable performances and the movie has a bouncy rhythm that keeps it zipping along. However, it never gets under the surface of Frank’s drive to lose himself in other identities, other than a simplistic desire to please his father (Christopher Walken, excellent as always), nor does it explore the complex mechanics of fraud with any depth. By the movie’s end, it feels like one of Frank’s pilot uniforms–appearance without substance. –Bret Fetzer
In Road to Perdition, Tom Hanks plays a hit man who finds his heart. Michael Sullivan (Hanks) is the right-hand man of crime boss John Rooney (Paul Newman), but when Sullivan’s son accidentally witnesses one of his hits, he must choose between his crime family and his real one. The movie has a slow pace, largely because director Sam Mendes (American Beauty) seems to be in love with the gorgeous period locations. Hanks gives a deceptively battened-down performance at first, only opening up toward the very end of the film, making his character’s personal transformation all the more convincing. Newman turns in a masterful piece of work, revealing Rooney’s advancing age but at the same time, his terrifying power. Jude Law is also a standout, playing a hit man-photographer with chilling creepiness. This movie requires a little patience, but the beautiful cinematography and moving ending make it well worth the wait. –Ali Davis
Cast Away is a good movie that wants to be much better. While director Robert Zemeckis’s earlier film Contact achieved a kind of mainstream spiritual significance, Cast Away falls just short of that goal. That may explain why the film’s most emotionally powerful scene involves the loss of an inanimate object, even as it presents a heart-rending dilemma in its very human final act. It’s three movies in one, beginning when punctuality-obsessed Federal Express systems engineer Chuck Noland (Tom Hanks) departs on Christmas Eve to escort an ill-fated flight of FedEx packages. Following a mid-Pacific plane crash, movie number two chronicles Chuck’s four-year survival on a remote island, totally alone save for a Wilson volleyball (aptly named “Wilson”) that becomes Chuck’s closest “friend.” Movie number three leads up to Chuck’s rescue and an awkward encounter with his ex-girlfriend Kelly (Helen Hunt, in a thankless role), for whom Chuck has seemingly risen from the grave. It’s fascinating to witness Chuck’s emerging survival skills, and Hanks’s remarkable physical transformation is matched by his finely tuned performance. With slow, rhythmic camera moves and brilliant use of sound, Zemeckis wisely avoids the postcard prettiness of The Black Stallion and The Blue Lagoon to emphasize the harshness of Chuck’s ascetic solitude, and this stylistic restraint allows Cast Away to resonate more than one might expect. Even the final scene–which feels like a crowd-pleasing compromise–offers hope without shoving it down our throats. You may not feel the emotional rush that you’re meant to feel, but Cast Away remains a respectable effort. –Jeff Shannon
“The book was better” has been the complaint of many a reader since the invention of movies. Frank Darabont’s second adaptation of a Stephen King prison drama (The Shawshank Redemption was the first) is a very faithful adaptation of King’s serial novel. In the middle of the Depression, Paul Edgecomb (Tom Hanks) runs death row at Cold Mountain Penitentiary. Into this dreary world walks a mammoth prisoner, John Coffey (Michael Duncan) who, very slowly, reveals a special gift that will change the men working and dying (in the electric chair, masterfully and grippingly staged) on the mile . As with King’s book, Darabont takes plenty of time to show us Edgecomb’s world before delving into John Coffey’s mystery. With Darabont’s superior storytelling abilities, his touch for perfect casting, and a leisurely 188-minute running time, his movie brings to life nearly every character and scene from the novel. Darabont even improves the novel’s two endings, creating a more emotionally satisfying experience. The running time may try patience, but those who want a story, as opposed to quick-fix entertainment, will be rewarded by this finely tailored tale. –Doug Thomas
By now, Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan have amassed such a fund of goodwill with moviegoers that any new onscreen pairing brings nearly reflexive smiles. In You’ve Got Mail, the quintessential boy and girl next door repeat the tentative romantic crescendo that made Sleepless in Seattle, writer-director Nora Ephron’s previous excursion with the duo, a massive hit. The prospective couple do actually meet face to face early on, but Mail otherwise repeats the earlier feature’s gentle, extended tease of saving its romantic resolution until the final, gauzy shot. The underlying narrative is an even more old-fashioned romantic pas de deux that is casually hooked to a newfangled device. The script, cowritten by the director and her sister, Delia Ephron, updates and relocates the Ernst Lubitsch classic, The Shop Around the Corner, to contemporary Manhattan, where Joe Fox (Hanks) is a cheerfully rapacious merchant whose chain of book superstores is gobbling up smaller, more specialized shops such as the children’s bookstore owned by Kathleen Kelly (Ryan). Their lives run in close parallel in the same idealized neighborhood, yet they first meet anonymously, online, where they gradually nurture a warm, even intimate correspondence. As they begin to wonder whether this e-mail flirtation might lead them to be soul mates, however, they meet and clash over their colliding business fortunes. It’s no small testament to the two stars that we wind up liking and caring about them despite the inevitable (and highly manipulative) arc of the plot. Although their chemistry transcended the consciously improbable romantic premise of Sleepless, enabling director Ephron to attain a kind of amorous soufflé, this time around there’s a slow leak that considerably deflates the affair. Less credulous viewers will challenge Joe’s logic in prolonging the concealment of his online identity from Kathleen, and may shake their heads at Ephron’s reinvention of Manhattan as a spotless, sun-dappled wonderland where everybody lives in million-dollar apartments and color coordinates their wardrobes for cocktail parties. –Sam Sutherland
When Steven Spielberg was an adolescent, his first home movie was a backyard war film. When he toured Europe with Duel in his 20s, he saw old men crumble in front of headstones at Omaha Beach. That image became the opening scene of Saving Private Ryan, his film of a mission following the D-day invasion that many have called the most realistic–and maybe the best–war film ever. With 1998 production standards, Spielberg has been able to create a stunning, unparalleled view of war as hell. We are at Omaha Beach as troops are slaughtered by Germans yet overcome the almost insurmountable odds. A stalwart Tom Hanks plays Captain Miller, a soldier’s soldier, who takes a small band of troops behind enemy lines to retrieve a private whose three brothers have recently been killed in action. It’s a public relations move for the Army, but it has historical precedent dating back to the Civil War. Some critics of the film have labeled the central characters stereotypes. If that is so, this movie gives stereotypes a good name: Tom Sizemore as the deft sergeant, Edward Burns as the hotheaded Private Reiben, Barry Pepper as the religious sniper, Adam Goldberg as the lone Jew, Vin Diesel as the oversize Private Caparzo, Giovanni Ribisi as the soulful medic, and Jeremy Davies, who as a meek corporal gives the film its most memorable performance. The movie is as heavy and realistic as Spielberg’s Oscar-winning Schindler’s List, but it’s more kinetic. Spielberg and his ace technicians (the film won five Oscars: editing (Michael Kahn), cinematography (Janusz Kaminski), sound, sound effects, and directing) deliver battle sequences that wash over the eyes and hit the gut. The violence is extreme but never gratuitous. The final battle, a dizzying display of gusto, empathy, and chaos, leads to a profound repose. Saving Private Ryan touches us deeper than Schindler because it succinctly links the past with how we should feel today. It’s the film Spielberg was destined to make. –Doug Thomas
Tom Hanks’s debut as a writer and director is a lively, affectionate account of the shooting-star career of a forgotten (fictional) ’60s pop-rock band called The Wonders–as in “one-hit wonders.” Hanks plays the manager of the group, which includes drummer Guy “Sticks” Patterson (Tom Everett Scott) who works the floor at his parents’ appliance store in Erie, Pennsylvania; Jimmy (Johnathon Schaech), the talented and temperamental lead singer and songwriter; Lenny (Steve Zahn), the goofy guitarist; and Ethan Embry as a geeky little fellow identified in the cast list only as “The Bass Player.” The movie traces their meteoric rise and fall, from cutting their first record, to going on tour with a Phil Spector/Motown-type revue, to the internal tensions that lead to the band’s disintegration, which comes when they fail to follow up their smash hit single, “That Thing You Do!” And that song, by the way, is so catchy it would definitely have been a hit in 1964–and deserves to be one today. This delightful movie would make a great double-bill with Allison Anders’s wonderful Grace of My Heart. –Jim Emerson
NASA’s worst nightmare turned into one of the space agency’s most heroic moments in 1970, when the Apollo 13 crew was forced to hobble home in a disabled capsule after an explosion seriously damaged the moon-bound spacecraft. Tom Hanks, Kevin Bacon, and Bill Paxton play (respectively) astronauts Jim Lovell, Jack Swigert, and Fred Haise in director Ron Howard’s intense, painstakingly authentic docudrama. The Apollo 13 crew and Houston-based mission controllers race against time and heavy odds to return the damaged spacecraft safely to Earth from a distance of 205,500 miles. Using state-of-the-art special effects and ingenious filmmaking techniques, Howard and his stellar cast and crew build nail-biting tension while maintaining close fidelity to the facts. The result is a fitting tribute to the Apollo 13 mission and one of the biggest box-office hits of 1995. –Jeff Shannon
The Academy Award winner for Best Picture, Best Director Robert Zemeckis, and Best Actor Tom Hanks, this unlikely story of a slow-witted but good-hearted man somehow at the center of the pivotal events of the 20th century is a funny and heartwarming epic. Hanks plays the title character, a shy Southern boy in love with his childhood best friend (Robin Wright) who finds that his ability to run fast takes him places. As an All-Star football player he meets John F. Kennedy; as a soldier in Vietnam he’s a war hero; and as a world champion Ping-Pong player he’s hailed by Richard Nixon. Becoming a successful shrimp-boat captain, he still yearns for the love of his life, who takes a quite different and much sadder path in life. The visual effects incorporating Hanks into existing newsreel footage is both funny and impressive, but the heart of the film lies in its sweet love story and in the triumphant performance of Hanks as an unassuming soul who savors the most from his life and times. –Robert Lane 
Philadelphia wasn’t the first movie about AIDS (it followed such worthy independent films as Parting Glances and Longtime Companion), but it was the first Hollywood studio picture to take AIDS as its primary subject. In that sense, Philadelphia is a historically important film. As such, it’s worth remembering that director Jonathan Demme (Melvin and Howard, Something Wild, The Silence of the Lambs) wasn’t interested in preaching to the converted; he set out to make a film that would connect with a mainstream audience. And he succeeded. Philadelphia was not only a hit, it also won Oscars for Bruce Springsteen’s haunting “The Streets of Philadelphia,” and for Tom Hanks as the gay lawyer Andrew Beckett who is unjustly fired by his firm because he has AIDS. Denzel Washington is another lawyer (functioning as the mainstream-audience surrogate) who reluctantly takes Beckett’s case and learns to overcome his misconceptions about the disease, about those who contract it, and about gay people in general. The combined warmth and humanism of Hanks and Demme were absolutely essential to making this picture a success. The cast also features Jason Robards, Antonio Banderas (as Beckett’s lover), Joanne Woodward, and Robert Ridgely, and, of course, those Demme regulars Charles Napier, Tracey Walter, and Roger Corman. –Jim Emerson
A romantic comedy, of sorts. The romance is airy and distant, because the lovers never meet until the final scene, and the comedy is kind of wistful, because it was directed by Nora Ephron. She is still a writer at heart, and it shows-there are scenes here that linger well past their bedtime, all for the sake of a few good lines. Tom Hanks plays Sam, left miserable by the death of his wife, with only his young son, Jonah (Ross Malinger), to console him. The consolation goes a bit far; Jonah rings up a radio talk show to say that his dad needs love (this is almost unwatchable, but grit your teeth and stay with it). Many listeners melt with sympathy, none more so than Annie (Meg Ryan), in Baltimore, shortly to be married and none too happy about it. For the rest of the movie, fate-and Jonah-do their best to bring the couple together, despite the continent that divides them. The result is sweet and moody, and richly photographed by Sven Nykvist, but you can’t help feeling shortchanged; Hanks and Ryan have quick wits, and funny faces to match-they should be striking sparks off each other, not mooching around waiting for something to happen. Hanks has a few goofy outbursts, and there is lively backup from Rosie O’Donnell and Rob Reiner as helpful friends, but anyone expecting another “When Harry Met Sally …” will be disappointed. At least Harry met Sally. -Anthony Lane
Penny Marshall’s popular 1992 comedy sheds light on a little-known chapter of American sports history with its story of a struggling team in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. The league was formed when the recruiting of soldiers during World War II resulted in a shortage of men’s baseball teams. The AAGPBL continued after the war (until 1954), and Marshall’s movie depicts the league in full swing, beginning when a savvy baseball scout (Jon Lovitz) finds a pair of promising new players in small-town Oregonian sisters (Geena Davis, Lori Petty). The sisters are signed to play for the Rockford Peaches near Chicago, whose new manager (Tom Hanks) is a former home-run king who wrecked his career with alcoholism. They’re all a bunch of underdogs, and Marshall (with a witty script by Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel) does a fine job of establishing a colorful team of supporting players including Madonna and (in her movie debut) Rosie O’Donnell. It’s a conventional Hollywood sports story (Marshall’s never been one to take dramatic risks), but the stellar cast is delightful, and the movie’s filled with memorable moments, witty dialogue, and agreeable sentiment. And just remember: there’s no crying in baseball! –Jeff Shannon
Handle with care–this one’s a bomb! Director Brian De Palma seemed an unlikely choice to transfer Tom Wolfe’s mammoth bestseller– a vibrantly satiric story about race, politics, and greed in 1980s New York–to the screen. In this case, the first impression was correct. Made with a tin ear to everything that made the book so real, the movie gets it wrong every time, starting with casting Tom Hanks in the central role (which, as anyone with brains knew, should have been played by William Hurt). Move along to the choice of Bruce Willis for the sneaky British tabloid journalist and, well, need I say more? As stylish as any De Palma film, this story of a Wall Street broker whose extramarital shenanigans trigger a racial incident that becomes front-page news gets no help from Michael Cristofer’s tone-deaf script. After watching it, read Julie Salomon’s behind-the-scenes book about its making, The Devil’s Candy, which is much more entertaining. –Marshall Fine
Joe Versus the Volcano is a true early-1990s cult film. This fantasy-comedy was the first pairing of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks, yet it polarizes viewers like a Blue Velvet or Happiness. As the only directorial effort from John Patrick Shanley (the Oscar-winning writer of Moonstruck), it is something special, and it’s hard to resist the film’s feather-light heart tugging. Joe Banks is having the life sucked out of him at a dead-end job. Miserable in his gray surroundings with stark fluorescent lighting, Joe dreams of being brave again. A visit to the doctor reveals that he has a “brain cloud.” It’s fatal, but he’ll be fine for a few more months. An eccentric millionaire, Samuel Harvey Graynamore (Lloyd Bridges), hears of Joe’s predicament and comes to him with a proposal: The people of the Pacific island of Waponi Woo need a human sacrifice to appease their gods. Why not live like a king for a few weeks, then throw yourself into a volcano? (Graynamore needs a sacrificial victim to offer in exchange for permission to mine the island for a rare mineral.) Joe accepts Graynamore’s lavish proposal and on his journey meets three romantic possibilities (all played by Ryan). Joe embraces life; so does the movie. It’s packed with smile-inducing supporting performances by Bridges, Ossie Davis, Robert Stack, and Dan Hedaya; playful songs (”Sixteen Tons,” “Ol’ Man River,” Presley’s version of “Blue Moon”); and amusing scenes (such as Joe buying luggage). Add the daring, imaginative production design of Bo Welch (Edward Scissorhands), Hanks and Ryan’s chemistry, and Georges Delerue’s romantic music and you have a film to fall for. –Doug Thomas
Much better than your average cop-and-dog movie (e.g., K-9), Turner and Hooch is really a love story about a control freak (Tom Hanks) who gradually resigns to the messy chaos of a sweet hulk of a pooch named Hooch. The excuse for this relationship is that the dog can identify a murderer and Hanks needs him, but the film is really about such hilarious moments as Hanks bathing Hooch with a long brush, and a wild chase through the streets when the sharp-eyed mutt spots his suspect. Layered over this is a healthy love story between Hanks and animal vet Mare Winningham, who share a terribly sexy scene together–while fully clothed–doing no more than making breakfast. (Hanks directed this scene, though Roger Spottiswoode directed the rest of the movie.) –Tom Keogh