This underrated Richard Lester film is really a classic-and one of the most romantic movies ever made. Working from James Goldman's script, Lester casts Sean Connery as an aged Robin Hood, returned after years away at the Crusades with an increasingly mad King Richard (Richard Harris). Robin and Little John (a very funny Nicol Williamson) return to find that the sheriff of Nottingham (Robert Shaw) is up to his old nasty tricks-and that Maid Marian (Audrey Hepburn) is now a nun. Lester brings the same touch to this period film that he did to The Three Musketeers and The Four Musketeers, blending authenticity with a knowing wink at the conventions of period films. But the heart of this film is the very palpable emotion between Hepburn and Connery (and between Connery and Williamson). The ending is guaranteed three hankies, minimum. -Marshall Fine.

"Funny, I never thought it would work. He's so different from me. " Agnès Jaoui, scripting with her longtime writing and performing partner, Jean-Pierre Bacri, makes a deft directorial debut with this delightful romantic journey of missed opportunities and second chances. Bacri is poignant and piercing as a gauche petit-bourgeois businessman who discovers a world of art and magic missing from his empty, self-contained existence after he watches an emotionally devastating theater performance. Equal parts buffoon and born-again romantic, he fumbles through a new world and emerges as the soul of this story. Jaoui brings a light touch and a fresh perspective to familiar situations. Behind the comic characters and wry wit is a sympathy for her lonely souls and a celebration of the painful joy of their rediscovery of the possibilities of life. -Sean Axmaker.

Hong Kong superstar Jackie Chan gives his self-mocking humor full flourish in City Hunter, adapted from a Japanese comic book. But that doesn't mean there isn't a solid dose of action-after a brilliantly cartoonish opening, the movie settles into a half-comedy, half-thriller variation on Die Hard, in which Eurotrash terrorists have hijacked a plush ocean cruise liner and super-detective Ryu Saeba (Chan) has to stop them, aided by his lovely, love-lorn assistant (Joey Wong, A Chinese Ghost Story, Green Snake) and a beautiful undercover secret agent (Chingmy Yau, Naked Killer). Though City Hunter is short on breathtaking stunts, there's plenty of well-choreographed hand-to-hand combat. Jackie Chan's lecherous, self-absorbed character (accompanied by a parade of girls into skimpy or skin-tight outfits) come across like a gleeful parody of James Bond (slightly marred by a bit of homophobia). All in all, a high energy romp. -Bret Fetzer.

Along with Drunken Master, Snake in the Eagle's Shadow launched a new fusion of comedy and kung fu. And it's easy to see why Snake has been so popular-it's easily the most engaging of Jackie Chan's early films. Everyone abuses and humiliates a downtrodden orphan (Chan) until he befriends an old man, who turns out to be the last master of the "snake fist" fighting style. Jackie becomes the old man's student and finds himself in battle with the master of the "eagle's claw" style, who has vowed to destroy the snake fist clan. Though these plot elements are familiar stuff, they're all executed with outstanding verve; the performances, the fight choreography, and even the obligatory training sequence are unusually complex and well filmed. Jackie is in top form and coming into his own as a star. -Bret Fetzer.

A complete lack of imagination is what qualifies this as a B movie. Thankfully, this snowy adventure about a boy and his dogs is charming enough to entice the kiddies. Charismatic MacKenzie Astin plays a teenager trying to save the family farm by entering a 522-mile sled-dog marathon. Except for Astin, the lusciously scenic background has more depth than most of the characters. This is so predictable you could take a nap and miss nothing except a few rousing scenes in the 1917 Winnipeg-to-St. -Paul sled race. Although this is visually more appealing than most family fare, one wishes more attention had been paid to the script. -Rochelle O'Gorman.

Like Easy Rider, Bonnie and Clyde, The Wild Bunch, and The Graduate, The Last Picture Show is one of the signature films of the "New Hollywood" that emerged in the late 1960s and early '70s. Based on the novel by Larry McMurtry and lovingly directed by Peter Bogdanovich (who cowrote the script with McMurtry), this 1971 drama has been interpreted as an affectionate tribute to classic Hollywood filmmaking and the great directors (such as John Ford) that Bogdanovich so deeply admired. It's also a eulogy for lost innocence and small-town life, so accurately rendered that critic Roger Ebert called it "the best film of 1951," referring to the movie's one-year time frame, its black-and-white cinematography (by Robert Surtees), and its sparse but evocative visual style. The story is set in the tiny, dying town of Anarene, Texas, where the main-street movie house is about to close for good, and where a pair of high-school football players are coming of age and struggling to define their uncertain futures. There's little to do in Anarene, and while Sonny (Timothy Bottoms) engages in a passionless fling with his football coach's wife (Cloris Leachman), his best friend Duane (Jeff Bridges) enlists for service in the Korean War. Both boys fall for a manipulative high-school beauty (Cybill Shepherd) who's well aware of her sexual allure. But it's not so much what happens in The Last Picture show as how it happens-and how Bogdanovich and his excellent cast so effectively capture the melancholy mood of a ghost town in the making. As Hank Williams sings on the film's evocative soundtrack, The Last Picture Show looks, feels, and sounds like a sad but unforgettably precious moment out of time. -Jeff Shannon.

Meet Dr. Michael Hfuhruhurr (Steve Martin), the famous brain surgeon. Perhaps the name is not unfamiliar, though it is unpronounceable; the good doctor is the inventor of the celebrated "screw-top" method of brain surgery, in which the top of the skull twists off as easily as the lid of a pickle jar. The man may be a medical genius, but his talent for love leaves something to be desired, which explains his marriage to a gold-digging vixen (Kathleen Turner). Ah, but Dr. Hfuhruhurr may yet find true love, in the form of the disembodied brain he discovers in the lab of a mad scientist-David Warner, gone the Frankenstein route. (Lovely image: Hfuhruhurr in a rowboat, taking the brain out for a romantic ride on the lake. ) Thus, in its own utterly goofy way, does The Man with Two Brains delve into the eternal dilemma of male indecision: does a man fall in love with a woman's body, or with her mind? Along the way, of course, there are gags both highbrow and very, very lowbrow, a mind-body split that might be why critics have tended to prefer the more sophisticated slapstick of All of Me (directed, like this film, by Carl Reiner) and Roxanne among the early Steve Martin outings. Still, this is one of Martin's funniest pictures, and a game Kathleen Turner, fresh off her Body Heat success, ably spoofs her own sultry image. The cerebral love object is voiced by Sissy Spacek. [+]