Forrest Gump

Forrest Gump is Hollywood film-making at its most corn-fed, sucrose-enriched and calorific; you’ll need a sweet tooth for it.

Zemeckis has made a fast movie about a slow hero; he transforms Forrest's daffy misconceptions into lyrical flights. Forrest Gump has a softer, more delicate touch and a richer current of feeling than any of the other holy-innocent movies.

Hanks' performance [is] a triumph of dignity, decency, and warm-hearted humor... Even more than his Oscar-winning achievement in Philadelphia, this is a role that will be remembered as long as people care about great acting.

Hanks never strikes a false note, never panders to his mentally slow character nor tries to make him more than he is, despite a script that occasionally calls on him to utter what presumably are intended to be simple profundities.

There's an undeniable kick to the idea of recapitulating to the Boomerography as a tale told by an idiot, but the thrill inexorably fades.

Hanks' immersion in character and his convincing interaction with fellow players make Forrest Gump -- gimmicks and all -- a pleasure.

Flaws and all, the movie unfolds like a book of short stories and that choice ushered in a confidence the script is able to pull off.

When analyzing the ultimate endurance that “Forrest Gump” has left in the decades since it first came out, it’s obvious that approaching it with a more inquisitive perspective leaves it with a much shallower impact than it did upon its initial release.

Forrest was an ordinary man in extraordinary circumstances.

What makes Forrest Gump a stunning triumph, a departure from the mediocre norm? A big reason is the way the film provides a fresh perspective on the familiar experience, through the eyes of its unforgettable protagonist.