Harrison Ford and Tommy Lee Jones race around in circles for this memorable early '90s cat-and-mouse blockbuster, skillfully adapting and modernizing a four-season television series from thirty years prior. _The Fugitive_ doesn't fool around, racing through dozens of heavy plot points in the first hour without feeling overwhelming or hyperactive. It's a succinct, condensed version of a once-sprawling serial, one which trims away the obligatory TV padding without skipping any good bits.

While it's trucking through those establishing shots, the story is a whiplash stunner; in the blink of an eye, we see our protagonist as a respected physician, grieving husband, bewildered murder suspect, sentenced convict, opportunistic escapee and outdoor survivalist, with one particularly well-executed train derailment thrown in to really kick off all the turmoil. Almost by necessity, the second act slows down to focus on the chase, balancing Ford's attempts to lay low with Jones's top-of-the-food-chain detective work. That performs well, too, a firm gear-shift from the opening salvo’s manic mayhem (one that's certainly assisted by its two phenomenal cornerstone stars), though it does lose its way as all the different points converge and the moment of resolution draws near. By contrast, the ending falls more on the bland, derivative side; careful suspense cast aside in favor of a big chair-tossing, pipe-swinging, rock'em'sock'em finale. These scenes are inoffensive, but a decided step down from what we'd seen and felt just prior. Put it this way: I still vividly recalled the bus crash and dam jump, decades after I last saw them. I'd forgotten all about the climactic rooftop fist fight.

While the gettin's good, it's real good. A fairly simple premise with plenty of intrigue and gray morality, a tight script, more than one all-decade action set, a super-sized portion of Tommy Lee Jones intensity and lots and lots of chances for grim Harrison Ford to glance worriedly over his shoulder. Maybe not perfect, but it still holds up.