Terminal pretty much describes it

When Steven Spielberg made “Schindler’s List,” which won a Best Picture Oscar , and “Saving Private Ryan,” which should have, it appeared that he had finally matured as a filmmaker. He’s always had an eye for a shot and a feel for pacing, but he’s always had a problem with tone: He never met a Disneyesque moment that he didn’t long to kiss with an open mouth and lots of tongue.

Turns out we were wrong. “Artificial Intelligence: A.I.” went on a half hour too long (he just had to put some aliens in). “Minority Report,” for all its qualities, was science fiction with a predictable ending. “Catch Me If You Can” was better, but it still amounted to drama lite. And now we have “The Terminal.”

Look, Tom Hanks is terrific. And I like the fact that Spielberg, working from a script by Sacha Gervasi and Jeff Nathanson, didn’t compromise on the film’s romantic subplot. But there were just too many phony moments, too many Spielbergian leaps of fancy – one involving a mop and a Boeing 747 that is just plain embarrassing – to take seriously. So that leaves us only with the notion of a guy, caught between countries, overcoming the bias of every single airport worker, to become the kind of hero who can bring about a wedding, save a desperate Russian traveler from uncaring American authorities and build a masterwork of a fountain out of spare spackle and cheap plumbing.

It’s too much to stomach, much believe. Long before Hanks’ character, like E.T. and Chuck Noland (of “Cast Away” ) before him, sets out to return home, many viewers already will have left the theater. Or started tonguing their dates.