"It's an epic!" howls one of the fighters in the free-for-all finale, overwhelmed by the sheer number of characters that get crowded into a single room, all pounding away at each other. Indeed, every comic actor and most of the leading action stars in Hong Kong in 1983 seem to have been squeezed into this amiable kung fu comedy-there are even tiny cameo appearances by several famous movie directors (Ann Hui, Tsui Hark, Wu Ma). This picture marks the debut of a loose-knit group of farce-action stalwarts, the Five Lucky Stars, stumble-bum reformed crooks who attempt to go straight by setting up a cleaning service, but can't seem to help getting into tons of trouble. The Stars went on to appear in several sequels, including My Lucky Stars. Jackie Chan, as a cop pursuing the hapless crooks, is essentially the straight man here, and he seems to be using a stunt double in some of his big scenes. This is a close as Chan ever got to phoning in a performance. -David Chute.

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.

Here's a model for adapting a novel into a movie. The bestseller by James Jones, a frank and hard-hitting look at military life, could not possibly be made into a film in 1953 without considerably altering its length and bold subject matter. Yet screenwriter Daniel Taradash and director Fred Zinnemann (both of whom won Oscars for their work) pared it down and cleaned it up, without losing the essential texture of Jones's tapestry. The setting is an army base in Hawaii in 1941. Montgomery Clift, in a superb performance, plays a bugler who refuses to fight for the company boxing team; he has reasons for giving up the sport. His refusal results in harsh treatment from the company commander, whose bored wife (Deborah Kerr) is having an affair with the tough-but-fair sergeant (Burt Lancaster). You remember-the scene with the two of them embracing on the beach, as the surf crashes in. The supporting players are as good as the leads: Frank Sinatra and Donna Reed won Oscars (and Sinatra revitalized his entire career), and Ernest Borgnine entered the gallery of all-time movie villains, as the stockade sergeant who makes Sinatra miserable. Zinnemann's work is efficient but also evocative, capturing the time and place beautifully, the tropical breezes as well as the lazy prewar indulgence. This one is deservedly a classic. [+]

Esther Williams never looked lovelier than she does in Pagan Love Song, bronzed and beflowered to play Mimi, a half-American, half-Tahitian girl who was raised on the island but who longs for the good old U. S. of A. "All my life's been one long vacation," she sighs, "and I'm bored. " Luckily, Hap Endicott (Howard Keel) arrives on the scene. He's an Ohio schoolteacher who has come to manage his late uncle's coconut plantation. The two meet cute, and love and singing ensue. There are a few cringe-inducing moments of the "colonialism can be fun!" variety (the Happy Natives don't need to be paid-just throw them a party!), but it's all so silly and well intentioned that it's hard to hold a grudge. Pagan Love Song's many pleasures include songs at the drop of the hat, some terrific Tahitian dancing, and a lovely moment when a lovelorn Hap looks up and sees Mimi swimming gracefully among the clouds. A must for any Esther Williams fan. [+]

Todd Haynes, ever unpredictable, follows up his experimental trilogy Poison and his restrained Safe with this flamboyant study in glam rock through the kaleidoscopic lens of Citizen Kane. Christian Bale plays Arthur Stuart, a reporter sent to investigate the legend of rock legend and bisexual pop icon Brian Slade (Jonathan Rhys-Meyers as a not-so-thinly veiled David Bowie), who disappeared a decade ago after staging his own mock assassination. But Arthur is flooded with memories of his own adolescence as he interviews Slade's friends and business associates, peeling back the layer of makeup and spangles that was the model of rebellion for a generation of middle-class British kids and discovering a hollow center. Ewan McGregor almost steals the film as the punk pioneer Curt Wild (equal parts Iggy Pop and Kurt Cobain), the genuine article to Slade's calculated, coifed image of glitter stardom. Haynes's film lacks nothing in capturing the flamboyance and spectacle of the era with flashy filmmaking and kitschy costumes, and if the plot seems lost in the preening and visual fireworks, perhaps that's the point: behind the façades and manufactured fronts is nothing but glitter, energy, and a beat. -Sean Axmaker.