Driving Miss Daisy retains its coziness and its slightness, but it has been filmed eloquently.

Mild but pleasing... The movie, passing in time from the fifties through the civil-rights period, lovingly measures the precise shadings of irritation, affection, and dependence that flow back and forth between two characters.

Is this supposed to represent an achievement of dignity and freedom?... What I saw was an improbable saintlike character persecuted by a cranky, bigoted tyrant who became slightly less cranky but never less condescending with time.

A pleasant piece, but it’s hardly Best Picture material.