Always (1989)

It has been a while since I have seen this 'Always.' The years, I should say, have done this film justice.

A noted cinephile, I know when to eat my words, and this is one is for the books. Sincere. Honest. Touching. Obviously sparked with a late-eighties, Spielbergian hyper-real, cinematic extensions and flair, these elements do not bog the film downs as, say, with '1941' or 'The Color Purple.' And why should we expect modern filmmakers to be like those of the forties or fifties? Modern filmmakers are just that -- modern.

Holly Hunter is a walking dream and she has talent in droves. I have long had a crush on her and her funny mouth. She is simply enchanting and steals the show. Goodman, for once, is kept under control. Dreyfuss, with the thankless role of revisiting his past and commenting on the future, is the weakest link but only just. Sumptuously photographed by deftly edited, this story of unrequited love is as universal as mothers and babies. If it doesn't bring tears to your eyes, shame on you. The best advice to view this film is to forget it is a Spielberg film. Enjoy it for the love story that it is and sink into its voluptuous and charged charm.

We should all hope we become angels in the mist, able to return to Earth to right all the wrongs of the world.

This may be one Spielberg's most romantic films, next to A.I., which is a supremely magnificent film and, also, equally dismissed when it first arrived on the scene.

I urge all to give this film a second chance.