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I think you have to be or have been a teacher to feel as though John Hughes' movie "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" is like a student scraping his nails across your blackboard for 90 minutes. When this movie was first released, I happened to see it on a week where a student came tardy to my class, cussed me out when I called him on it, and then had his mother phone and tell me that I was overreacting [for doing what was expected of me] and tell me that she was praying for me. By the time I finished watching the movie, Principal Rooney (ployed by Jeffrey Jones), who was intended as a figure of fun, was a very sympathetic character to me.

Anyway, Matthew Broderick plays the title role, an insufferable youngster who appears to have an angel of God at his side. Ferris concocts elaborate schemes for playing hooky from school, yet he manages to endear himself to everyone except Mr. Rooney, who can never quite catch Ferris in the act, and his sister Jennie (Jennifer Grey of "Dirty Dancing"), who is justifiably annoyed at Ferris's liberties.

One fine spring day, Ferris again fools his parents into thinking he is on Death's doorstep. When they leave for work, Ferris browbeats his downtrodden buddy Cameron (Alan Ruck, later of TV's "Spin City") into stealing his father's prized 1961 Ferrari, hijacking Ferris's girlfriend (Mia Sara) from school and going on a joyride.

The angel-of-God analogy is particularly apt because the movie seems a latter-day version of deus-ex-machina. And never has a movie seemed so stagy. When Ferris starts talking to the camera (presaging similarly self-conscious '90s movies and TV shows), expounding his theories on life and skipping school, one half-expects to read "Based on a play by Neil Simon" in the credits.

What a great combination--the self-righteousness of John Hughes and the Broadway smarminess of Matthew Broderick. Two minds without a single thought.

And the film in constantly at odds with what it tries to tell us. At one point, Ferris tells us that you'll never get anywhere by kissing people's hindquarters. Yet he can't get anywhere without sucking up to people or manipulating them for his selfish whims.

He also complains about his parents being weird. The poor kid--all his parents have ever given him are everything he wants, and more attention than his sister can hope to receive.

And how is all of this massive manipulation possible? Because Hughes sets up cardboard characters and emotions. Mr. Rooney is essentially Wile E. Coyote, forever chasing the Road Runner in vain.

Ferris's parents are vapid dummies who don't care much about anything. And Ferris is supposedly made lovable by such acts as his hammy performance to get out of school (an old bit when it was used in "E.T.") and his lip-syncing to a rock song (which, after Tom Cruise in "Risky Business" and Rodney Dangerfield in "Easy Money," was well on its way to become a modern-day movie cliché).

All of the performances are execrable, except for Ruck as Cameron, the put-upon friend. When Cameron vows to take a stand against his dad, the scene almost works, despite its utter gravity, because Cameron has been such a likable dolt up until then. If only we could see a movie about a teenager like *him*, instead of this self-indulgent vehicle about a self-indulgent brat. When John Hughes--a Mel Brooks for high-school geeks--was asked how he prepares his scripts, he said, "I never start with the jokes. I look at an issue and try to find the story in it...To me, 'Animal House' was a character movie." That's funnier than anything in "Ferris Bueller's Day Off."

Review of SPIDER-MAN 2

by STEVEN BAILEY

There are some "popcorn movies" that transcend their origins and

just become great movies--"North by Northwest," "Raiders of the

Lost Ark."

Add "Spider-Man 2" to the list.

There's no good reason that a film about a guy with the dubious

talent for traveling by web should be one of the most touching

movies around. But darned if I wasn't near tears by movie's end.

For that, kudos to director Sam Raimi, who found the same

"realistic" tone in the first "Spider-Man" and extends it here. The

characters seem like clichés--the clumsy kid turned super-hero,

the erstwhile girlfriend, the doting aunt. But thanks to heartfelt

encore performances from Tobey Maguire, Kirsten Dunst, and

Rosemary Harris, they're more believable than those in more

"earthbound" movies I've seen this year.

Of course, some viewers don't go to "Spider-Man" movies for

character depth, and action fans won't be disappointed here either.

Alfred Molina, whom I've always found hammy, here has perfect

pitch as Dr. Octavius--at first friendly and caring to Peter Parker

(Spidey's daily alter-ego), then downright operatic in his revenge

when his planned scientific breakthrough goes wrong and turns

him into a kind of octopus-robot.

But the movie spends an unusual amount of time letting us get to

know its characters, so that viewers truly have a stake in the

high-powered action scenes. (Warning: Those scenes might be

very tough sledding for younger viewers. But if you've seen

"Spider-Man 1," you know what you're in for anyway.)

Out of a flawless cast, I end by singling out thoroughly winning

Kirsten Dunst as M.J., Peter/Spidey's love interest. Her dreamy,

sunny face grounds the story in happy normalcy. And her final

scene tops even "S1's" much-ballyhooed kiss.

This movie has it all. Go.

Review of THE TERMINAL

by STEVEN BAILEY

If Charlie Chaplin was still alive and creating, it's easy to imagine

him making a light comedy as richly satisfying as "The Terminal."

Just as Chaplin used to take a prop and wring every possible gag

out of it, Steven Spielberg's prop is a New York airport terminal

from which he extracts every story possibility. And Spielberg's

Chaplin is Tom Hanks, who takes a potentially show-offy, Meryl

Streep-type role and turns it into a movie character for the ages.= Hanks' role is Viktor Navorski, a European immigrant who

becomes a modern-day "man without a country" when his native

land gets embroiled in a revolution. Viktor can't return home

because his country is under siege, and he can't legally enter New

York until his country's new leadership is recognized by the U.S.

So Viktor has no choice but to live in the terminal--much to the

consternation of Frank Dixon (Stanley Tucci), whose chances of

becoming the terminal's top dog are jeopardized by Viktor's

constantly being under foot.= The movie's premise is laid out pretty flatly in the first ten minutes,

which begins to sink one's hopes. But it's as though Spielberg

wants to get the mandatory stuff out of the way quickly so he can

explore all of the possibilities in his huge playtoy. And he spins

Viktor through every facet of the terminal like a colorful top,

involving the terminal's quirky workers in his meager existence.= In that sense, "The Terminal" is a lot like "Being There" (1979),

where Peter Sellers played an illiterate simpleton on whom

politicians projected their needs and desires. But Hanks is far

from a blank slate. His body language, physical comedy, and

deceptively simple dialogue speak volumes. Chaplin regretted

having to give up silent movies because he felt that his "Little

Tramp" could not express himself uniquely with sound. I think

something like "The Terminal" would have been an effective

solution.= That's not to belittle Hanks' winning co-stars, especially Catherine

Zeta-Jones as Viktor's potential love interest and Chi McBride as

one of Viktor's many supporters. They all give Spielberg's work the

sheen of a big, beautiful dream.=