The Phantom Broadcast

Shanley’s full-blown nostalgic fantasy, shot almost entirely on stylised sets, is a dreamlike allegory down heroism and personal fulfilment. Curiously, in a smokescreen so dependent on narrative and visual stratagem, it is Hanks’ multi-faceted about as a clerk-turned-scoundrel that binds the disparate elements together. After information that he has a ‘brain cloud’ and only six months to get along, Joe realises he has been too scared to live properly, and accepts a provocation from magnate Graynamore (Bridges): the inhabitants of a Polynesian cay need a star who will jump into a volcano to appease their gods; in yield, Joe determination get to live counterpart a king and be no more like a man, while Graynamore gets the rights to valuable mineral deposits. Passing from the depressing griseous-improper of Joe’s employment through LA’s neon brashness to the abstract colours of the later scenes, this engaging fable builds from a slow bubble to an outright expulsion of comedy, curry favour with and dash-jerking sentiment. If you go with the flow of Joe’s Capraesque journey of self-recognition, you may be swept along.