"a benign fairy tale of solidarity and resilience."

No, not the story of my life in the last few months...

That's what A. O. SCOTT wrote about The Terminal but I only read it just now, after watching the best movie I have seen this year. That could be why I couldn't stop crying after I left the theatre. That message hit home. Sharply.

Its etymology — termini were the local gods whose shrines served as boundary markers in the ancient Roman world — suggests a frontier between worlds, while its modern medical usage associates the word with mortality. To be trapped indefinitely in a terminal, then, without recourse to either flight or ground transportation, can be imagined as a kind of living death, a nerve-racking state of perpetual limbo.

Which makes it all the more remarkable that Mr. Spielberg has transformed this quintessential modern nightmare of interrupted air travel into a vision of earthly paradise.

I went to see the movie right after I finally got a call with a job offer.

I felt tired. I feel very tired. I felt like allowing myself to relax. So, obviously, I went to see a movie in the middle of the afternoon. ('Obviously' for the ones who know me well enough: movies are the ultimate source of pleasure to me.)

Maybe it was the lack of expectations. Maybe they are a winning combination, Spielberg and Hanks. Maybe it's just the transfer process. I loved the movie And I am still crying.

"A benign fairy tale of solidarity and resilience."

Friends...

I was so close to giving up.