It’s exciting to see Shyamalan on such confident footing once more, all these years later.
"Midas Run" is a vague, disconnected movie that doesn't accomplish much except the most old-fashioned love scene of the decade. Anne Heywood and Richard Crenna are in bed -- making love. I guess -- and everything is double-exposed and superimposed and out of focus, and we get shots of the sea and red roses and daisies and somebody splashes buckets full of runny music all over everything.
All that's missing is a final shot of curtains blowing in the breeze and a flock of geese taking off. Then "Midas Run" could be donated to the Library of Congress as an anthology of clichés.
The music is one of the most distracting things about the movie. Good film music should hardly be heard; it should be somewhere over in a corner of your mind, gently underlining scenes without stealing them. But the music in "Midas Run" is hardly subtle. It's so overdone that its very urgency points up how little is happening on the screen.
The story involves an attempt to hijack an airplane carrying a gold shipment. The conspirators are Anne Heywood, lovely as always; Fred Astaire, charmingly fey; and Richard Crenna, the Spiro Agnew of leading men. They hire a former Luftwaffe pilot to force down the airplane, which he does, but not until we could care less. In the meantime, we've had to sit through awkward scenes of Miss Heywood and Crenna falling in love or something -- scenes hard to believe, since the character played by Miss Heywood seems too intelligent to fall for Crenna, or even Troy Donahue.
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