A gentle, toothless, shameless movie, with a Jim Carrey performance to match. Carrey is Peter Appleton, a Hollywood screenwriter about to be targeted by HUAC for suspected Communist associations. One rainy night he goes off a bridge in his convertible and washes up on the shore of Lawton with amnesia. He bears a striking resemblance to one of the town’s many boys lost in WWII, so everyone takes him as a returning hero. Not knowing any better — for all he knows, he could be who they think he is — Peter goes along with their mass delusion and helps to re-open the town movie theater, the Majestic, along with a nice old man (Martin Landau) who thinks Peter is his son. This extremely overlong tripe — Capra-esque in the wrong way — was directed by Frank Darabont, who really shows his fatal weakness for (very long) schmaltz here. The movie may please those with a high tolerance for nostalgia and sentimentality; everyone else should wear HAZMAT suits when approaching it. Fleeting amusement is provided by Bruce Campbell as the intrepid hero of Sand Pirates of the Sahara, the adventure movie Peter wrote.