Slow, grave, contemplative, talky. Especially talky. A plane-crash survivor -- the crash itself is initially skipped over, then gradually pieced together in harrowing flashbacks -- comes through the ordeal a new man, with a new and sensuous awareness of the world around him, and a new and annoying aura of invulnerability. The sensuousness is well documented, with highly purposeful and effective use of closeups, but the invulnerability tends to come out in showy and superficial set pieces: dancing at the edge of a rooftop, driving a car at top speed into a brick wall. Jeff Bridges delivers a "difficult" (i.e., sympathy-repelling, sense-confounding, but also arduous, effortful) performance; the attention to post-trauma mundanities (lawsuits, therapy sessions) makes a sharp and often funny contrast; the finale, at long last getting around to the moment-of-impact flashback, is quite moving but not quite resolving. Altogether a mixed bag. Better than an empty bag. With Rosie Perez, Isabella Rossellini, John Turturro, Tom Hulce; directed by Peter Weir. (1993) — Duncan Shepherd
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