Reviews

Full disclosure: I was a teenager when the original "Knight Rider" aired back in the early 1980s. The whole "Solitary Samaritan" thing, a device for which this show was known, is something I like (See "The Incredible Hulk" or -- to a certain extent -- "The A-Team"), and as cheesy as the original looks today, it still holds on to much of its charm.

That said, I awaited the new "Knight Rider" with baited breath. With all that is possible with 21st-Century visual effects and technology, I wanted to see what they can do with one my favorite adolescent chestnuts. I watched the pilot. I saw viable technology with some "Gee-whiz" factor thrown in. I saw Michael and his comely comrade get into a scrape and, with KITT's help, they escaped unharmed. And KITT's transformation sequences were a real attention-getter, until I noticed a severe continuity problem. In one episode, Michael tells KITT to switch back to normal mode in a secluded area to avoid it ending up as video footage on YouTube, yet KITT frequently transforms in public areas (Vegas in broad daylight, for example). Still, I think they did well with KITT, and the fact that they landed Val Kilmer as its voice was a real "get".

Now to what is wrong with the show. Michael (Justin Bruening) is a lunkhead. Oh, he looks hunky to pass off as a young Hasselhoff, but at least Hasselhoff can act. Michael's on-again-off-again relationship with Sarah (Deanna Russo) is actually well done, but there's no chemistry! Russo does a fine job, but Bruening doesn't click for me.

You know who does click, though? Billy (Paul Campbell) and Zoe (Smith Cho). These two are actually good enough to keep this show afloat, especially since NBC's announcement that the cast is getting trimmed and the show's focus will be more like the original's "Solidary Samaritan" formula.

If you ask me, saying that the second bananas far exceed the leads speaks volumes. If this "new direction" doesn't work, then maybe NBC should resuscitate last year's cancelled "Bionic Woman". At least that show was interesting; it was just an unfortunate casualty of the Writer's Strike of 2007-08.

From the first frame of "United 93", it became obvious to me that writer/director Paul Greengrass was very well aware of the sensitive subject matter of this movie. I remember vividly the events of September 11, 2001, as do many of us, and this movie delves into the motivation of the passengers of the ill-fated United Airlines Flight 93, and why it crashed into a Pennsylvania field instead of a Washington, DC, landmark, as the hitchhikers had intended to do.

Every shot in this movie was hand-held, giving it a documentary feel. Every passenger captured on-camera at the terminal looked and acted so real, I thought I was in the terminal with them. Let me say, for the record, it is not easy for me to become that involved with a movie, but I did here.

I also want to give kudos to Greengrass for adding even more to the realism of "United 93" because of its cast. The crew of the airliner were real pilots and flight attendants (some of them employed by United Airlines). Many of the air traffic controllers were real, as were many of the military personnel featured in the movie. As an added bonus, some people actually played themselves. I'm not talking CNN anchors, either. Some of the people in this movie were reenacting their experiences on that fateful day, and I found them completely believable.

"United 93" is not the kind of movie you would "pop into the DVD player". But I would recommend that everyone give it a viewing. It provides a unique perspective of that day without being preachy, trite, or contrived.

I have been a fan of feature animation since I was a child. Since the advent of computer-animated features in the mid-1990s, I believe that this technology has the potential of growing ever more powerful with each passing year. But there is a caveat: Power is useless if you don't know how to use it.

And on that note, I give you "Monster House". In this film, some neighborhood kids believe a house occupied by a crotchety old man is haunted. Many of us can identify with this kind of tale; even I knew of a house or two in my old neighborhood that no one went to. The lights are never on, the landscaping is shoddy, it's in some state of disrepair. Whatever the reason, a house like this becomes the subject of some exaggerated urban tale among the 11-to-13-year-old set, and it just seems to grow wilder every month. There have been other films like this in the past, my favorite of which is "The Sandlot", and there are moments in which "Monster House" tries to duplicate that sense of exaggeration, but it doesn't quite succeed.

The technology behind the making of this movie was groundbreaking, in that it's not a traditional CG-animated film. Instead, it uses motion-capture technology to enhance the performances (by both the actors and the characters), as well as a new kind of editing platform that allows for a more "organic" feel to the camera motions (even a hand-held effect). For that, I was impressed by the look of this movie. "Toy Story" (1995) will always be a classic, but this technology would have made it a different movie with a completely different feel to it.

Overall, the characters were fairly well-rounded. Even though I thought Mr. Nebbercracker's motivation was a bit hokey (to say why would mean a Spoiler Alert), I still found it somewhat believable. I did enjoy the actors' performances in this movie, too (they didn't just speak -- they acted on a motion-capture stage).

Still with all the cool technology and the director landing his "dream cast" (watch the Special Features, and you'll see what I mean), "Monster House" turned out to be an enjoyable movie, but not a magical one.

I heard big things about this movie from the get-go, and I must say that most of those things are right. When Jerry Brickheimer started producing films for Disney, I began to wonder why. But in the end, it looks like a good marriage. To date, the Bruckheimer/Disney team seems to fare pretty well, and "National Treasure" is a testament to that union.

Nicolas Cage stars as Benjamin Franklin Gates, with Jon Voight playing his father, Patrick Henry Gates. And Christopher Plummer makes a brief appearance as Ben's grandfather, John Adams Gates (do you see a pattern here?). Okay, enough about the Gates family. I thought it was an interesting way to present the Gates family and their ties to American history.

The whole movie centers around the Declaration of Independence, on the back of which lays the final clue for the secret location of the legendary Treasure of the Knights Templar. Early in the film, Gates leads a party to a clue that points to the Declaration, and some of that party, lead by the "questionably legal" Ian Howe (Sean Bean), split off. From this moment, the chase is on.

Gates and his assistant, the eager Rigley Poole (Justin Bartha) try to warn authorities, but all of them, including archivist Dr. Abigail Chase (Diane Kruger), laugh them off. At this point, any further plot points may be considered spoilers for those who haven't seen this movie yet, so I will stop here.

For the most part, the performances were pretty good, though I did have a hard time believing Jon Voight as 30 years younger in the opening scene, which takes place in 1974. The wig and make-up he wore didn't help much, either (It's almost as bad as that awful get-up he wore as Howard Cosell in "Ali").

I did enjoy the action scenes for the most part. There were a couple of chase-scene clichés thrown in, but they still worked. And for those of you who wonder if your child can watch this movie, it's okay, trust me. The creepiness factor is at most moderate (a few brief glimpses of long-dead bodies), there is some gun-play (but only from the bad guys, and no one gets hurt), only one person dies (off-camera), and I can recall maybe one or two (very) mild profanities. Besides, it's a PG-rated Disney film.

One thing I can say about this movie is that it is somewhat reminiscent of action films of the late-1940s and early-1950s. This is an enjoyable family-friendly movie, and it will entertain you and make you think (but not too much).

There are very few names that inspire people to become actors. Not movie stars, but actors. Among them are Marlon Brando, Bette Davis, Katharine Hepburn, and Sir Laurence Olivier. Having already some familiarity with the works of William Shakespeare (by no means, am I an expert, but I know some things), I judged it was time to see how Olivier himself treated one of the Bard's most famous works.

Well, the first impression I got from watching this movie is that it is quite obviously a labor of love. Olivier was an avid practitioner of Shakespeare, and this movie is his tribute. And, one thing I can say about this version of Hamlet is that it appears to be a more faithful interpretation, rather than an adaptation with whole scenes taken out for the sake of time, continuity, and/or to keep the audience's attention. While ambitious, the results are mixed.

First, let's cover what I did like about the movie. On the top of that list is Jean Simmons as Ophelia. Her performance was nearly flawless as Hamlet's girlfriend, who loses her mind after her father's death. Another surprise I spotted was character actor Stanley Holloway (Liza's father in "My Fair Lady") as the gravedigger in the "Alas, poor Yorick" scene. And the swordfight finale was well choreographed.

Now, for what I felt was lacking. Many of the actors in this movie (particularly Basil Sydney, who played King Claudius) appeared wooden. Even Olivier himself looked like he had succumbed to mediocre performance at times. A lot of the lines sounded like they were phoned in, and Polonius (Felix Aylmer) sounded too much like he was dispassionately reading from "Poor Richard's Almanac" while dispensing his wisdom to his children, Ophelia and Laertes (Terence Morgan).

As Hamlet himself said, "The play's the thing", but this is a play put on film. With that, there is an inherent problem with its presentation: Sometimes, it doesn't translate well. While I am sure that on stage, this was phenomenal, on screen it is hit-and-miss. But, like I said, it was a labor of love, and it does mark two firsts in Oscar history: The first movie directed by its star, and the first independent film, to win Best Picture.

For purists and those who study Shakespeare, this presentation is the one to watch. It's a no-frills, camera-eye view of the play utilizing a single set. But this is not just another movie to watch for the sake of watching it. It has been said that true art has flaws, and by that very definition, Olivier's "Hamlet" is art, warts and all.

If there is one thing that everyone can agree about Elia Kazan, it is that he was controversial. In "East of Eden", Lana Turner's character had a child out of wedlock (something heavily frowned-upon in those days). In "On the Waterfront", he used Mafia control of dock unions as a metaphor for the hearings of the House Un-American Activities Committee (better known as the McCarthy Hearings). And Kazan himself faced much criticism for testifying at those very hearings in 1952, so much so that in 1999, when he received his Honorary Academy Award, many audience members protested by remaining in their seats. Well, I think his path down the road of controversy begins here, with 1947's "Gentleman's Agreement".

The term "gentleman's agreement" means an unwritten rule which basically states that Jews are not permitted to patronize businesses, get jobs, or find a place to live, simply because they're Jewish. Author Laura Z. Hobson tackled the issue with a story she was sure would never sell. To everyone's surprise, it did sell, and it did open eyes, and Darryl F. Zanuck snapped up the rights to the book and put Elia Kazan in the driver's seat.

Ironically, many members of Hollywood's elite (more than a few of whom were Jewish) tried to convince Zanuck to not go forward with the movie. They wanted the subject to remain quiet, so no feathers could get ruffled. All that did was press the project forward, with the "keeping it quiet" topic addressed in an early scene of the film itself. Okay, enough history; let's talk about the movie. Gregory Peck stars as Schuyler Green, a freelance writer sent to New York to write a series of articles about anti-Semitism. At first, he's cool to the idea, until the day he tries to explain to his son (Dean Stockwell -- yes, of "Quantum Leap" fame) what anti-Semitism is. After stewing over his "angle" for a few days, it dawns on him: He will call himself by his first name (Phil), tell everyone he's Jewish, and he will see for himself how they are really treated. Some the results of his research are surprising. Without throwing up a Spoiler Alert, let me just say that he discovered anti-Jew behavior everywhere, even "within the ranks", so to speak.

The subject matter of this movie is quite compelling, but I still had problems with the film itself, especially with its romantic angle. Dorothy McGuire plays Kathy, a divorced schoolteacher and niece to the magazine's publisher, but her scenes with Peck were quite melodramatic, almost to the point they nearly upstaged the main plot of the film. And Gregory's Peck's performance appeared wooden to me. Oh, I found believability in his character, but his acting looked "paint-by-numbers" to me, as if Peck himself was thinking "Oh, yeah, I should put on my hat now". John Garfield and Celeste Holm are much better cast as Phil's friend Dave Goldman (a Jewish Army captain) and Anne Dettrey (fashion editor of Smith's Weekly Magazine).

The script had some problems, too. The undercover Jewish reporter side of the story was fine, it was the romantic side. And Kazan's direction also appeared that way, too. I'm not going to outright say that Kazan fumbled with this one, but he did direct and co-write this movie.

To me, Gentleman's Agreement could have been a better film, but unfortunately, it wasn't. True, it was quite a groundbreaker in its day, and very few films addressed the issue of Anti-Semitism prior to this one. But there was one film, released in 1940, which (at the time) drew much fire and criticism for tackling the same issue head-on, and it was a far more brilliant motion picture: Charlie Chaplin's "The Great Dictator".

Okay, I'll admit it. I'm in my 40s as of this writing, and I am still nuts about animation! When Pixar and Disney teamed up for "Toy Story" in 1995, my mind was sufficiently boggled. Then came "A Bug's Life", "Toy Story 2" and "Monsters, Inc.", and then other studios chimed in with their CG features, including "Shrek" and "Ice Age".

But this film is the one we're talking about, and "The Incredibles" shines as yet another feather in the Pixar/Disney cap. The movie begins with an event which leads to lawsuits and government intervention, forcing all the superheroes of the world into hiding. It asks "What if a family of supers had to lead normal lives?" and the answer seems clear: Dad hates his boring cubicle job, Daughter would much rather be invisible, Son lashes out too much, while Mom tries desperately to keep it all together.

I won't get into the plot beyond this, but I will say there are references to some of sci-fi's best in this movie. I easily spotted gags representing "Star Trek", "Star Wars", "The X-Men" and Disney's own "The Black Hole". I'm sure there are more; I guess repeat viewings are in store in order to catch them.

The voice cast is top-rate (Disney almost never fails on this front), with Craig T. Nelson, Holly Hunter, Samuel L. Jackson, and Jason Lee leading an excellent cast. Longtime Pixar fans will also notice Wallace Shawn as Bob Parr's overbearing boss, and John Ratzenberger maintains his tradition of contributing to every Pixar film to date.

The animation quality is eye-popping, too. How Pixar seems to outdo themselves repeatedly is beyond me. I was particularly impressed with one shot involving a waterfall that parted so a vessel can pass through it.

Though it isn't quite as magical (or as innocent) as the "Toy Story" movies, "The Incredibles" is still first-rate entertainment for the family.

The Motion Picture Academy honored the World War II era with Best Picture honors for films that explored unique perspectives of the war each year from 1942 through 1946 (with the exception of 1945). In 1942, it was "Mrs. Miniver", about a family surviving on the home front. In 1943, "Casablanca" dealt with the seedy underbelly of the black market, and how it was used to transport people persecuted by Nazi Germany to the United States. In 1944's "Going My Way", it was more indirect; a young man seemingly goes half-cocked, marries a singer, then leaves for duty. And finally, we have "The Best Years of Our Lives", a tribute to veterans and what became of their lives once their tours of duty were finished.

Dana Andrews stars as Fred Derry, a captain in the U.S. Army Air Corps who is returning to his hometown of Boone City. On his way, he meets a sailor named Homer Parrish (Harold Russell) and an infantry sergeant named Al Stephenson (Fredric March). Each man has a different perspective of their home town, as well as unique experiences from the war, even though all three served in the Pacific Theatre. And all three men bear their own scars of the war.

Though, like most films from Hollywood's so-called "golden age", this movie does have a "Hollywood ending", it isn't contrived here. The script by Robert Sherwood works well, and the performances by all the cast not only express the torment of men trying to fit back into their old lives, but also of their families and how they coped (or didn't cope) with them.

This movie is among William Wyler's best, and it would be the second of three Best Picture winners that he helmed in his career ("Mrs. Miniver" and "Ben-Hur" were the other two). It stands as a testament of among the best films Hollywood has to offer. As I have said already, the entire cast worked well together in this movie, one of the best examples of ensemble casting I have ever seen. But I give a special salute to Harold Russell, who plays the disabled sailor who just wants to be alone. Russell never considered himself a professional actor, and he had very few dramatic roles (mostly after 1980), yet the Academy deservedly bestowed him with not one, but two Oscar statuettes for his portrayal of Homer Parrish. I will not mince words here: Russell's performance is quite moving.

"The Best Years of Our Lives" is a film of rare breed. I say this because not many films explored the lives of military personnel after their experiences in war. There have been a few more recent examples, like "Coming Home" and, in a lesser sense, "Courage Under Fire", but this was among the first. It is a moving example of film-making at its best.

When I heard that Adam Sandler was coming out with a remake of this movie, I nearly winced. Not necessarily because I'm not the biggest Sandler fan, but because this movie is a classic in the sports film genre, and you don't mess with a good thing. Later, I found out that Burt Reynolds co-starred in the remake, so I figured it might be worth a shot. With that in mind, I rented the original and watched it again.

My first reaction was "So THIS is where that Skynyrd song came from!" (I'm kidding, of course). Burt Reynolds (himself, a former college football player) stars as Paul "Wrecking" Crewe, a disgraced quarterback who got into trouble in a points-shaving scandal some years back. The movie starts at the peak of his contempt, where, in a drunken rage, he assaults his wife, steals her car, dumps it into a bay, then tries to beat up the cops who arrest him (and this is all during the opening credits!).

The real story takes place when Crewe is sent to prison, where the warden (Eddie Albert) has a singular obsession with football, to the point that he manipulates Crewe into assembling a team among the inmates for an exhibition game against the guards.

Now, if I go any further, I will be forced to send up a spoiler alert. What I can say is this film launched (or re-launched) the careers of Bernadette Peters, Michael Conrad (of "Hill Street Blues" fame), Richard Kiel (who plays Jaws in two James Bond films), and Ed Lauter, who went on to have a prolific career as a character actor (including an appearance in the Sandler remake of this movie).

Some of the scenes seemed stilted here, and some of it was racially-biased (but this was Florida in 1974 -- They hadn't quite grown up yet), but much of the film holds up. By the way, the editing of the football game itself is among the best I have seen in film, and it undoubtedly was the source of inspiration of how the TV show "24" is presented.

ESPN calls it "the best sports movie, period", and there are many arguments in that favor. As for me, I'll take "Field of Dreams", but this comes in at #2.

Okay, going in, I will admit freely that I am not the biggest Adam Sandler fan. I liked "Big Daddy" and I thought "Anger Management" was okay; you can have "50 First Dates". But this movie was very not bad!

But, the one thing I do like about Adam Sandler is the fact that the soundtracks in his films are top-rate. And this one is no exception. Every song used in this movie fit the story and the action to a T, and I really liked that the opening chase scene featured the same song (Lynyrd Skynyrd's "Mr. Saturday Night Special") as in the original.

But enough about the music. Let's talk about the movie, while it's still fresh in my mind. In a nutshell, I enjoyed it. Some plot points were changed around from the original (like relocating the prison from Florida to Texas). But for the most part, "The Longest Yard" basically follows the same exact story line of the 1974 original. I was especially surprised about the library scene, something I did not expect in today's PC society. In case you haven't seen this film (or the original) yet, then I will stop here about the story.

James Cromwell slips into the shoes of Warden Hazen well, and seeing Burt Reynolds (star of the original) lend his support as Nate Scarborough was refreshing. Chris Rock, whose work I have enjoyed for years, was well-cast as Caretaker. As for Sandler, he took what was a dramatic story with funny moments into an all-out comedy with serious undertones. And, in a tip of the hat to Richard Kiel, this version of "The Longest Yard" features not one, but two XXXL players: Pro wrestler Dalip Singh (all 400 pounds of him), and heavyweight martial arts fighter Bob Sapp (whom Chris Berman himself described as a "refrigerator with legs"). Throw in some former NFL players (Brian Bosworth, Michael Irvin), more wrestlers (Bill Goldberg, Steve Austin), and a hip-hop star (Nelly), and you got yourself a team (or two). And, oh yeah... Adam Sandler's in it too (Just kidding! He does a good job here!).

I liked some of the characterizations here. For example, Warden Hazen has a motivation for this football game of his (I won't say what it is, though -- That's what they call a "spoiler"); in the original, the warden just seemed absently maniacal. At the same time, Scarborough was too shallow. No offense to Burt Reynolds, but I couldn't help thinking that some people would watch this film and ask "Okay, so who's the old man on the team?"

Technically, this version flowed a lot more smoothly than the original. I also like that the editing style employed in the game (as well as in a basketball scene and some of the practices) was an homage to the original. To me, it seems that Sandler wanted to honor the original, while making it his own film with its own legs at the same time. If that is so, then to me, he succeeded.

If you like the original, don't be afraid to watch this. Believe me, it's worthy. If you haven't seen the original yet, then do so (After all, it's Reynolds in his prime). I won't review the original here, but I did post it.

So, there it is. "The Longest Yard" excels in some spots, falls a little short in others, but this remake is worth a look.

After seeing this movie, I spent three days trying how to figure out how to open my review, ultimately deciding to do it by saying I had to spend time to figure out how to write my review. Yes, I know it sounds trite, but hey, this needed some thought first.

To apply a quote from a friend of mine, "The Lost Weekend" is "not an upper". It is the sordid tale of a man named Don Birnam (Ray Milland), a self-proclaimed writer who keeps finding inspiration in the bottom of a shot glass, only to get perpetually lost in the bottle. Birnam is an alcoholic, and this movie makes no pretense of it. In one of the earliest examples of a major film taking on addiction, the opening shot of the movie shows Don packing a suitcase for a weekend trip with his brother Wick (Phillip Terry), a bottle of liquor hanging out the window on a string. And it just goes downhill from there.

Taking advantage of an opportunity, Don ends up spending the weekend drinking. Granted, that's basically the story, but simply saying Don goes on a three-day bender is oversimplifying the plot. In a memorable (if somewhat melodramatic) performance, Ray Milland takes us inside the mind of an alcoholic (or just about any addict, for that matter), and the lengths he would go through for that next drink, including secret stashes, pawning, lies, and even theft. Milland shows us a man who is beyond contempt, beyond shame, beyond hope. His brother, his landlady, even Nat, his bartender (Howard da Silva), all tell him he needs to get off the sauce, but he continues his unrelenting downward spiral.

But it's his girlfriend, Helen St. James (Jane Wyman), who stands by him no matter the circumstances. And it is she who has the strength to hold out hope, even while he's sneaking around behind her back (literally). Whether she reaches him is better left for you, the reader, to see for yourself.

Technically, "The Lost Weekend" was shot and edited in a such a way that makes the viewer feel claustrophobic, which was director Billy Wilder's intention. Watching this movie, I began to feel Don Birnam's sense of being trapped in the bottle. To add a sense of realism to the movie, most of the exterior scenes were filmed on location in New York City using hidden cameras. In a manner of speaking, it was an experiment in cinéma vérité before it even had a name.

Other films have dealt with the issue of alcoholism (see "The Morning After", starring Jane Fonda, and "Clean and Sober", starring Michael Keaton), but this is among the first to tackle the subject head-on. And addiction-themed films, like "Rush", "Trainspotting", and "The Basketball Diaries", owe a debt to this movie.

In a nutshell, "The Lost Weekend" is a dark look at alcoholism that was daring in its time. Though somewhat over-the-top by today's standards, it is still powerful enough to hold your attention.

If you are looking for something thoughtful, dramatic, or even controversial, go somewhere else. But if it's a light-hearted comedy you're after, then pull up a chair and check out "Going My Way".

Bing Crosby stars as Father Charles "Chuck" O'Malley, a newly-ordained priest assigned to take over St. Dominic's, a New York City church with a mortgage currently run by veteran priest Father Fitzgibbon (Barry Fitzgerald). Both Crosby and Fitzgerald give good performances in this movie, as attested by the fact they each won an Oscar (and Barry Fitzgerald was nominated TWICE, for Actor and Supporting Actor, a move that necessitated a rule change at the Academy). If you ask me, between the two of them, I would go with Barry Fitzgerald. His portrayal of the crusty, yet kind-hearted Father Fitzgibbon was a role he was born to do, and it shows.

This movie also features the talents of soprano Risë Stevens, who plays Jenny Linden, an old friend of Father O'Malley's, in town performing at the Metropolitan Opera House as Carmen. Though her acting is somewhat wooden (it was only her second role), she shines all three times she sings. Which leads me to the title of the movie itself.

"Going My Way" is not a story about the Catholic Church, nor is it about old friends reuniting, or even about two young lovers (James Brown and Jean Heather). It's about a song. That's right. A song, written by Father O'Malley, and upon which its success determines the very future of St. Dominic's. Like I said, this is light comedy; nothing too serious is happening here.

At the time of this movie's release in 1944, World War II was at its crescendo. The newsreels and the papers were full of reports of the war. Some war veterans had made their way back home after getting wounded in battle. Major offenses like Operation: Overlord (D-Day) had succeeded, but at tremendous cost. At a time when the world was at its grimmest, this was the perfect escape. The only reference to the war in the entire movie occurs when landlord Ted Haines Sr. (Gene Lockhart) discovers his son, Ted Jr. (Brown) quit his job and eloped with a young singer named Carol James (Heather). Just when he thinks his son has lost all sense of reality, he turns around and sees Ted Jr. in an Army Air Corps uniform. Only then, Ted Sr. realizes his son hasn't gone mad; he is off to join the war.

If you are a fan of the "Road" movies Bing Crosby did with Bob Hope, you most likely remember the occasional aside in which either Bing boasts about his Oscar, or Bob grumbles about it. Well, this is the film that gave Bing his Oscar. And he was nominated again the next year for playing the same character in the the sequel "The Bells of St. Mary's". Obviously, he must've been doing something right! "Going My Way" was a little ray of sunshine cast upon a pained world and, even now, it will still put a smile on your face.

War is hell. William Tecumseh Sherman said it in 1880. But in Hollywood, war is adventurous, romantic, spectacular, dramatic, even a little fun once in a while. Okay, there are exceptions (see "All Quiet On the Western Front", among others). In those cases, war is bleak, gruesome, stressful, and restless.

And then there's "Mrs. Miniver".

This is a different kind of war movie, the earliest one of which I have seen (perhaps the first of its kind?). You see, this is not a war movie on the field of battle; this is about the trials of those on the home front. Very obviously topical when released in 1942, "Mrs. Miniver" still rings true in this day and age of terrorism and unstable alliances.

Greer Garson stars as Kay Miniver, whose chief concern at the top of the movie appears to be whether someone else beat her to the department store and bought the latest hat before she did. Her husband, Clem (Walter Pidgeon), is an architect who just bought a nicer car because he felt he deserved it. Their oldest son, Vin (Richard Ney), is full of idealistic rhetoric, thanks to his time spent at Oxford University. And then we have Toby and Judy, the two young Miniver children, fresh-faced, playful, and inquisitive.

Not much happens in Belham, the town in which they live. The most scandalous thing going on is that a local rail man named Mr. Ballard (Henry Travers) has entered a rose in the town's annual flower contest to compete against Lady Beldon (Dame May Witty), who has won uncontested for nearly 30 years. Oh, and Mr. Ballard's rose is named the "Mrs. Miniver".

Then, one Sunday morning (September 3, 1939, to be exact), England declares war on Germany. And suddenly, all those little things don't matter anymore.

"Mrs. Miniver" recounts the bravery of civilian life in war-torn England in the opening months of the Second World War. Watching this, I saw how Kay Miniver changed from vain housewife to a pillar of strength in her efforts to keep the home fires burning. But it wasn't just a day-to-day account of her life at home. She had to deal with air raids, strafing runs and, in one pivotal scene, getting up-close-and-personal with the enemy. Through all of this, life does continue in Belham, that is, when the Germans aren't around. With that, the flower contest goes on as scheduled, but I won't reveal which rose won (just in case you haven't seen this movie yet).

Okay, so why reveal these plot points? Just to illustrate how well-written this movie is. Granted, it does get preachy (literally) at the end, but the message is clear: War doesn't belong to the soldiers in the field, it belongs to everyone, and everyone must do their part.

As for the performances, I give my best nods to Henry Travers and to Greer Garson. Travers' portrayal of the affable Mr. Ballard is as charming as it is simple. As for Greer Garson's performance in the title role, well, I've always been a sucker for dynamic characters. Though a bit melodramatic at points, her strength at the end of the movie almost makes you forget how naïve she was at the beginning. As I made the comparison myself, I suddenly realized that all the material things we crave day-in and day-out aren't important. Sure, they may have some kind of meaning, or even a matter of significance, but in the end, they're just things. Perhaps that is a lesson we all need to learn once in a while.

"Here's looking at you, kid."

"This could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

"I don't stick my neck out for nobody."

"Round up the usual suspects."

"I'm shocked, SHOCKED, to find that gambling is going on in here!"

"Did you abscond with the church funds?"

"We'll always have Paris."

These are just some of the lines from this movie which have made their way into our lexicon. Of course, I did save the most famous one for last: "Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

Welcome to "Casablanca", regarded as one of the most popular movies of all time. I know, I know, everybody says that, but it's true. When people criticize movies today, Casablanca is usually one of the "go-to" films they turn to when they say "They don't make 'em like they used to."

And, they would be correct.

Ask any woman to name her top-five most romantic movies, and "Casablanca" will likely show up on her list. And when it comes to movie romances, men's eyes usually glaze over at the mere mention of them. Well, I am here to tell you there is plenty to keep a man's attention in this film and, in the end, he may actually walk away in a non-catatonic state.

First, you have Humphrey Bogart as Rick Blaine, owner and proprietor of Rick's Café Americain in the city of Casablanca. An expatriated American, Rick is a cynic whose establishment is just this side of illegal, yet he manages to stay in business and make a good living at it. And besides, it's Bogey!

Then there's Claude Rains as the local chief of police, Louis Renault. Captain Renault is slippery as an eel, especially when it comes to dealing with those in authority above him. He's also inquisitive, intelligent, and hypocritical.

Up next are the Nazis. Morocco was French territory in 1941, and the Germans occupied France during that time. Here, they are presented as ambitious warmongers bent on world domination (and that would be correct). With the Nazis around, there is an inbred conflict from the get-go, as Casablanca is portrayed as a hub for the French Resistance during World War II. I should also point out that this is the earliest American film I know of that not only uses the term "concentration camp" by name, but it also suggests that people have died within them.

Throw in a murder or two, and you have the makings of a good film-noir. Okay, so "film-noir" officially sprang up after World War II, but it still feels like one. The camera angles, shot composition, lighting, use of shadow, a brooding leading man (Bogart), and a tormented femme fatale (Ingrid Bergman) all add up toward the formula.

All of this is capped off with sardonic wit and tight drama, signs of a well-written script (which, interestingly enough, was cobbled together right up to the very end of filming). Also, the timing of this movie is what made it such a hit. It ranks right up there with "On the Waterfront" (1954), "The China Syndrome" (1979), "Guess Who's Coming to Dinner" (1967), "In the Heat of the Night" (1967), and "The Deer Hunter" (1978) in terms of topicality within the society of the day.

So, you men out there, when your woman suggests watching "Casablanca", throw some popcorn in the microwave. Trust me, you'll be able to sit through this one!

In the late 1930s, a novel written by Richard Llewellyn called "How Green Was My Valley" flew off bookstore shelves with nearly the same enthusiasm as a little-known tome called "Gone With the Wind". Well, when the movie "Gone With the Wind" (1939) played to packed houses and won numerous awards, including eight Oscars, Darryl F. Zanuck envisioned a similar treatment for a movie based on this book: four-hour length, full Technicolor, shot on location in Wales. Well, plans have a tendency to change. When Nazi Germany decided to drop bombs all over the British Isles, production was still shot on location -- in Malibu, California. And this is why "How Green Was Valley" was filmed in black-and-white.

But, enough history. I figured I needed to explain briefly why a movie whose title literally screams "color" was shot in black-and-white. And, quite frankly, I find that to be the only real problem with this movie. I, for one, would have loved to have seen the Welsh countryside, complete with green valleys and daffodils and the growing coal slag over the course of the film. But sometimes you make do with what you have. Thanks to John Ford's deft and efficient direction, the final product "made do" just fine.

Starring a young Maureen O'Hara and an even younger Roddy McDowall, "How Green Was My Valley" successfully conveys the perspective of youth, especially in how McDowall's character, Huw Morgan, spends months in recovery after falling into a frozen stream, and how he looked up to Mr. Gruffydd (Donald Crisp), the town minister. O'Hara, whom I always knew to be a beautiful and talented woman, is perfectly cast as the Angharad, Huw's only sister. But the best performances to come from this film are those of Donald Crisp and Sara Allgood, as the Morgan parents. Crisp's Gwilym Morgan is a stern and noble man, who rarely raises his voice to get his point across. And Allgood's Beth Morgan is a hearty woman who isn't afraid to speak her mind. And, though Donald Crisp did win Best Supporting Actor, I believe that Sara Allgood's performance is the best one in the film, especially during the scene in which she walks for the first time after she and Huw fell into the aforementioned frozen stream.

Okay, so "How Green Was My Valley" is in black-and-white and not in color, but don't hold that against it. It is still a worthwhile story, with strong performances and skilled direction only John Ford could deliver.

"Gone With the Wind" is a film about which so much has been written, it made me think "What could I say about this movie that hasn't been said before?" Well, in a year that gave us "Goodbye, Mr. Chips", "The Wizard of Oz", "Wuthering Heights", "Stagecoach", and "Ninotchka", this is the movie that many say is the best film to come from the best year of film. All of the other movies I mentioned here (as well a couple more) were nominated for Best Picture of 1939, and I have seen each of them (except "Ninotchka"). "Goodbye, Mr. Chips" told a heartfelt tale of an educator and the lives he touched during his tenure at a boys' school. "Wuthering Heights" was a sweeping romance with a memorable performance by Sir Laurence Olivier. "Stagecoach" had action and thrills under the deft direction of John Ford, while becoming a star-maker for a man known as The Duke. And "The Wizard of Oz" is quite possibly the most magical film of all time, immortalizing Judy Garland as the young Dorothy Gale and influencing nearly every fantasy film made ever since. And let us not forget some of the other memorable films released that year, like "Gunga Din", "Beau Geste", and "Mr. Smith Goes to Washington".

So, what is it about "Gone With the Wind" that makes it stand above the rest of the best? Was it because it was in color? No. "The Wizard of Oz" was also in color (well, mostly). Was it Clark Gable's signature performance as Rhett Butler? Interestingly, despite the fact he was practically the only (and obvious) choice for the role, no. He didn't win Best Actor this time around (it was his third nomination in five years); that honor went to Mr. Chips himself, Robert Donat. What about Victor Fleming's direction? Well, he did take home the Oscar, but he was also one of three men to helm this movie. Was it the script, the sets, the cinematography? Again, all very well done. And, though this may not the first film to that comes to mind, "Gone With the Wind" was a ground-breaker in visual effects, as it was one of the first movies to make extensive use of matte paintings for both interior and exterior sets, and to great effect. And let's not forget the "Burning of Atlanta" sequence. As many people know, this was done on the old RKO Studios backlot by burning down old sets (Did you know that the final structure shown in this scene was the gate to Kong's lair in "King Kong"?). With clever editing and visual mixing, the result is frighteningly effective.

But enough about the big picture (so to speak). What is it about "Gone With the Wind" that makes it stand out? To be sure, it was everything I have mentioned to this point, with one more ingredient thrown in to "kick it up a notch". Enter Vivien Leigh. After an exhaustive world-wide search for the right actress to play Scarlett O'Hara, she was the one who won the part. And she was the one took home the Oscar, too. As the conniving, bitchy, manipulative, money-hungry, débutante who wears her heart on her sleeve for the wrong man, Vivien Leigh delivers a performance unlike any ever seen before and few have delivered since. And, as Rhett Butler, Clark Gable gives us a rogue, a scalawag, and a mercenary, while also a gentleman, a romantic, and a doting father. I seriously doubt that any other man could have pulled it off (though Timothy Dalton did try years later on TV -- But that's another story). The end result is a mixture of some of the best on-screen chemistry ever concocted.

The supporting cast does a wonderful job here, too. From Olivia de Havilland to Leslie Howard to the first Black Oscar winner, Hattie McDaniel, many of the performances of "Gone With the Wind" are both memorable and well-cast, with one or two exceptions. For example, I thought Carroll Nye had the look and attitude of Frank Kennedy (Scarlett's second husband), but I didn't feel his performance was all that convincing. By the way, if you are a fan of the old "Superman" TV series, look for George Reeves as one of the Tarleton twins (he's Stuart) at the beginning of the movie. Sure, it's a chick flick. Yes, it's four hours long. But if you call yourself a movie fan, even in passing, then "Gone With the Wind" deserves a viewing!

I first heard about William Powell not in the "Thin Man" films, but as the curmudgeonly Doc in the World War II classic "Mister Roberts", also starring Henry Fonda, James Cagney, and Jack Lemmon (in his first Oscar-winning role). By the time that movie came out, Powell was a veteran actor in the final stages of his career ("Mister Roberts" was his final motion picture appearance, followed by a role in a 1969 short film). So, upon the discovery that it was he who starred in the 1936 Best Picture winner, I had to take a look. And now that I have seen "The Great Ziegfeld", I must say that Powell's performance saved this film from what could very easily have been pure Depression-era escapist hoo-ha.

Sure, Luise Rainer took home Best Actress for her melodramatic portrayal of Ziegfeld's melodramatic first wife, Anna Held (To echo a sentiment of a fellow IMDb reviewer of this film, she originated the now-familiar "smiling through the tears" performance that we have seen many times). And Myrna Loy did a fine job as his second wife Billie Burke (you know, Glinda the Good Witch from "The Wizard of Oz"). Throw in some fine performances by Nat Pendleton as The Great Sandow and Virginia Bruce as the talented yet troublesome Audrey Dane, and you have what appears to be a fairly well-done biographical film about Florenz Ziegfeld, right?

Ah, but this is a movie about Florenz Ziegfeld, and in movies about Florenz Ziegfeld, you need to showcase some musical numbers and how he would have staged them. Don't get me wrong, the musical numbers in this movie feature some of the best choreography and staging of the Depression Era, with stages that moved in and out (in sections and all at once), dogs that stayed at their marks for over two minutes as women danced around (and over!) them, and the costumes! Oh, the costumes! How those women paraded around in some of those things with smiles on their faces is beyond me!

But over and above that is the infamous "A Pretty Girl Is Like a Melody", which everyone claims was done in a single shot. But if you look more closely, it was really done in two shots; the transition happens at the clown's close-up. Even with two shots (three, if you count the curtain reveal), we are talking about a single continuous production piece that stretches for seven minutes! It is perfectly clear that MGM spared no expense in making this movie. In fact, it cost about as much money to film "Pretty Girl" as it did for Ziegfeld himself to produce one of his Follies!

MGM was notorious for their over-the-top productions during the 1930s, and "The Great Ziegfeld" was no exception. The mentality at the time was that America (and much of the world, for that matter) was caught in the Great Depression, and the public needed movie musicals with bright, cheerful, optimistic, and lavish set pieces to "forget" about their troubles for a couple of hours. And, even though it isn't technically a musical, this film fits that bill. But with a running time of nearly three hours, "The Great Ziegfeld" seems to stall during the lavish musical numbers, making it severely dated by today's standards.

But I have saved the film's saving grace for last, and his name is William Powell! As Ziegfeld, he is both legitimate businessman and snake-oil vendor, devoted husband and father and lecherous womanizer, brilliant showman and luckiest man on Earth! But what makes Ziegfeld fascinating is the ease at which Powell moves from one end of the spectrum to the other in a flash, then back again, especially when playing with (or is it against?) Frank Morgan. As Ziegfeld's rival/nemesis/business partner Jack Billings, Frank Morgan gave us a man who was both flustered by and respectful to Ziegfeld's knack for showmanship.

As a bonus to the film, two people who owed their careers in show business to Florenz Ziegfeld appear as themselves in "The Great Ziegfeld". First up is Fanny Brice, who re-enacts her discovery by and her audition for him. And the legendary Ray Bolger does a wonderful dance number that rivals, if not outdoes, anything he did three years later in "The Wizard of Oz".

So there you have it. This review seems about as long as the movie itself, so I will sum it up like this: "The Great Ziegfeld" is too long and it stalls during the musical numbers, but William Powell and Ray Bolger make it worth watching.

Few stories have stirred the imagination as much as the infamous mutiny aboard the HMS Bounty, in 1789, and this movie captures the spirit of that historic event very well.

Clark Gable stars without his trademark mustache (and British accent) as Fletcher Christian, the officer in charge of the mutiny. Fortunately, his performance as Christian was strong enough so that the average viewer would overlook that particular flaw (unlike Kevin Costner's turn as Robin Hood in 1991's "Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves").

Franchot Tone's portrayal of Midshipman Roger Byam was sympathetic, as he appeared to be more of a witness to the events than a participant. Byam's plea for reforms in the British Navy at the end of his court martial put a cap on a memorable performance. It should be noted that one of the factors in creating the Best Supporting Actor/Actress categories at the Oscars undoubtedly came about as a direct result of this movie, with three men nominated for Best Actor. If Best Supporting Actor had existed, Tone would have been up for (and likely received) Best Supporting Actor.

And then there's Charles Laughton. As Captain Bligh, Laughton made the most of his scenery-chewing role. Fortunately for him, the open-boat sequence added depth to his character, avoiding the cliché of Bligh being a cruel and inhuman sea captain. Unfortunately for him, his likeness graced cartoons and magazines for decades as a depiction of controlling and maniacal leaders.

While watching this movie, I began to notice a few plot points that Herman Wouk must have used for his novel "The Caine Mutiny". For example, Byam sees a tall ship and asks if it's the Bounty, but the Bounty is a smaller ship behind it; likewise, Ensign Keith spots a proud new vessel and asks if it's the Caine, but the Caine sits beyond, a small minesweeper full of rust. Captain Bligh obsesses over two wheels of missing cheese; Captain Queeg turns his ship upside-down over a few pounds of strawberries. And both Bligh and Queeg believe the whole crew of their respective ships are against them, even going so far as to conjecture a conspiracy theory based upon half-heard (and innocent) conversations. By the way, I am not trying to discredit "The Caine Mutiny" in any way; both the novel and the 1954 movie (starring Humphrey Bogart) are classics in their own right, and I recommend both reading the book and seeing the movie.

"Mutiny On the Bounty" is a well-made movie, with one of the best musical scores I have heard. When I heard the violins sweeping into the theme music at the opening titles, I knew right away I was in for a good time. Strong performances, great camera work, a well-written script, and an astounding musical score. All in all, this is a movie worth seeing!

I have seen a few Frank Capra movies in my day, and I must say that this is my favorite of his films. Every modern romantic comedy, from "The Graduate" to "When Harry Met Sally" to "Sleepless in Seattle", owes a serious debt to the film that all but spawned the genre, "It Happened One Night".

It can be argued that film was lucky to even get off the ground. This film was produced at several different locations on a shoestring budget (with Claudette Colbert receiving a large chunk of that budget as pay), yet the chemistry between Colbert and Clark Gable was among the best ever caught on film. Also, Capra's efficient directing style, which became a necessity for this project, paid off in spades.

"It Happened One Night" caused a sensation from the word "go". T-shirt sales dropped because Clark Gable didn't wear one in the film. The phrase "Walls of Jericho" became a part of the American lexicon. It showed that women could indeed get just about anything they wanted, just by showing a little leg. And it has been acknowledged in several circles that "It Happened One Night" was the inspiration behind the creation of one of most-loved cartoon characters ever, Bugs Bunny.

It would be hard to pick just one reason to watch this film, but if I had to choose, it would be the scene in which Peter (Gable) and Ellie (Colbert) pretend to be a married blue-collar couple when private detectives hired by Ellie's father encounter them at a motor lodge. This scene alone demonstrates Gable's and Colbert's chemistry with each other (I know I've mentioned it before. Trust me -- It's that good!).

The first film to win Oscars for Best Picture, Director, Actor, Actress, and Screenplay, "It Happened One Night" is a heartwarming, charming, hilarious movie that I would recommend for any couple (young or old) to see. This is the first truly great romantic comedy, which still holds up pretty well (Okay, so taking the bus isn't very romantic anymore).

By the way, I showed selected scenes of this film to my son when he was 16, and he liked what he saw. If that isn't a ringing endorsement, I don't know what is!

When I was a boy, my father introduced me to this movie (among many others), and I was swept up in it from the get-go. To this day, "Patton" remains at the top of my list of favorite movies of all time. So, I will apologize in advance if I begin to rave too much about this film.

The opening monologue is a display of some of the finest acting ever put on film. As Patton, George C. Scott gives a fantastic performance from start to finish. The real General Patton wrote poetry, believed in reincarnation, was highly religious, and lived for the honor and glory of battle. At the same time, he was crass, vulgar, disruptive, and he severely frowned upon cowardice with conviction. George C. Scott captured all of these facets of Patton's life and delivered a look into a man who seemed in constant conflict, whether it was against the Germans, his superior officers, or himself.

Told from the perspectives of both Patton himself and the German command that monitored him, "Patton" also shows how the general seemed to single-handedly bring down the morale of Nazi Germany. This is especially evident following the "slapping incident," in which the Germans (incorrectly) focused on Patton while the Allies prepared for Operation Overlord (D-Day).

The supporting cast is quite strong here, too. Karl Malden is a perfect choice as General Omar Bradley, an average soldier who happens to wear stars on his epaulets, and who serves as Patton's moral center. Michael Bates is a dead ringer as British Field Marshal Bernard Montgomery, right down to the mannerisms and the hooked nose. Fans of "Star Trek" may recognize Michael Strong, who guest-starred in one episode of the original series, as General Hobart Carver, one of Patton's aides.

On a side note, there is one glaring glitch in this movie: The tanks used were not Panzers and Shermans; they were American M48s. This is a Hollywood convention. But, considering that American tanks are named for well-known generals, and the M48 was called the Patton, I think we can let this slide.

"Patton" is part war movie and part biopic, and it works well on both fronts. This is a must-have for any DVD collection.

Romantic movies have been made since the very beginnings of motion picture entertainment, but a very select few measure up to "Marty". Paddy Chayefsky adapted his 1953 teleplay into this gem, starring Ernest Borgnine as a lonely butcher who has all but given up on women. Borgnine's character, Marty Piletti, is an everyman who toils day in and day out in the butcher shop, listening to the occasional customer who reminds him that he's 34 years old and still without a wife (as if he doesn't already know this!). His frustrations are amplified by the fact that he feels women aren't attracted to him.

Wonderfully acted and brilliantly written, "Marty" feels very real, unlike most romances which reek of contrivance. On a personal note, I can relate to this movie on many levels, as I am sure that any "average Joe" would.

The supporting cast does very well here, too. Betsy Blair is sympathetic as Clara, a schoolteacher who also feels unattractive and, therefore, is as lonely as Marty. Look for Frank Sutton, best known as Sergeant Carter on the TV show "Gomer Pyle, USMC", in this movie, as well.

"Marty" is one of those movies that has stood the test of time, and will continue to stand on its own for a long time to come. Also, this film is unique, in that it is a romance told from a man's perspective. If you ever come across it on TV or in a video store, see it. You won't be disappointed.

Fans of James Dean may watch this movie and think "This seems a bit familiar somehow." Well, "Cimarron" was quite literally cut from the same cloth as the 1956 epic movie "Giant". Both movies are based upon novels by Edna Ferber. Both movies are about families settling in hostile territory. Both movies speak of the rights of minorities (Native Americans and Mexicans, respectively). Both movies address how the landscape changes after the discovery of oil. And both movies show how a person's perception of a certain race (Sabra toward Indians in "Cimarron", and Bick toward Mexicans in "Giant") change over time. But, if you ask me, "Giant" is the better of the two films.

One of the things about this movie that I had heard before seeing it was that it was "horrifically racist." True, there are pervasive racial stereotypes throughout the film, but I think that many people who watch old movies without foreknowledge of the history of film fail to realize that it was a reflection of the times and how people perceived others. "The Jazz Singer" (1926) is regarded as a landmark movie, and it is a classic that people have enjoyed for years. But it, too, has racial stereotypes; Al Jolson sings onstage in blackface, but not for the reasons you may think. In the days of Vaudeville, Blacks weren't permitted to be stage performers, so white people would put on blackface makeup instead. Was this wrong? Yes. But I digress...

The story of "Cimarron" seemed somewhat convoluted to me, as it not quite successfully captured the spirit of Ferber's novel, but it does redeem itself, in that Yancey Cravat (Richard Dix) treated both the Indians and his houseboy, Isaiah (Eugene Jackson), with dignity and respect: At the town's first religious service, in which Yancey gave the sermon, he took up a collection, while at the same time saying the Indians in attendance need not contribute because their land was taken by the White Man; meanwhile, Yancey had publicly given Isaiah his sidearm, so that he may stand guard at home, something unheard of in the late 1800s! And Sabra (Irene Dunn), who did carry prejudices against Indians (she even called them "dirty" after one gave their son a gift), changed her perception of them by the end of the movie, to the point that she, too, became an outspoken advocate of Indians' rights.

The performances in this movie are mixed. Irene Dunn does a fine job here, as does Estelle Taylor, who played the local madam, Dixie Lee. But in my opinion, Richard Dix's performance was too passionate, to the point that he overacted. I could not help but think that William Shatner took a cue from Richard Dix when he played Captain Kirk on "Star Trek". "Cimarron" is not a standout film, but if you like old movies, then I would recommend it. Otherwise, stick to "Giant"; it has a better story, a better cast, and much better acting.

To say the least, watching this movie was an interesting experience. For one thing, "The Broadway Melody" predates the Hayes Code, which placed strong restrictions on what could and could not be seen (or heard) in movies. For example, we see numerous shots of Hank and Queenie in various states of undress, including shots of them in their undergarments as they change clothes, and even one of Queenie in the bathtub(!). No, nothing is revealed, but in 1929, it must have been scandalous to see this.

Another interesting aspect of this film is that, despite the fact that it is a "talkie," title cards like those seen in silent films appear throughout. Apparently, MGM wasn't quite sure how to progress the story of the movie as it switched to different sets.

Another thing I noticed was the similarities between some of the characters' names to those of real people. Specifically, "Jock Warriner" sounds like "Jack Warner" (who was head of Warner Bros. Studios) and "Francis Zanfield" is similar to "Florenz Ziegfeld" (of Ziegfeld Follies fame). It would seem the writers didn't have far to go to create some of these characters.

As for the acting, Bessie Love is the best performer in the film. Her character, Hank (yes, a man's name!), is intelligent, strong-willed, determined, and tough-minded, and she deservedly received an Oscar nomination for her performance in this film.

"The Broadway Melody" is a somewhat dated movie (to echo the sentiment of TV Guide), but it is still worthwhile to watch. The script is a little hokey, but the performances (especially from the women) shine through.