Henry Winkler has undeniable charm, but I wouldn't advise him to cancel his Fonz contract hastily.

The same script that regularly strains credulity well past the snapping point also provides a jolly enough vehicle for both Winkler and Ms. Field to break away from type and show the movie audience what they can do.

There is some sense of a much smaller, calmer movie interleaved with larger moments, although there is an iron spine of consistency and an accumulating power which is even more evident on a second viewing.

Harrison Ford redeems the middle section of this tripe as a redneck vet who blows off steam by racing cars and shooting his machine gun at night.