After viewing the gay ensemble film The Broken Hearts Club-the subtitle of which helpfully points out that it's "a romantic comedy"-you might feel as if you've been offered a discussion conundrum not unlike the kind that Mike Myers's Linda "Coffee Talk" Richman would put forward: "The Broken Hearts Club is neither romantic nor comedic. Discuss. " What it is, rather, is a gay male version of Steel Magnolias, right down to the funeral scene and hospital visit. While decidedly less melodramatic than that Southern chick flick, it still aspires to a kind of big-group love-in feeling that's only vaguely comic. And romance? Well, there's some somewhere, when the characters aren't carping about how the only thing they're good at is being gay. They all wrestle with their Big Issues-should Patrick (Ben Weber) donate sperm so his sister can have a baby with her lesbian lover? Will cynical Dennis (Timothy Olyphant) finally admit he loves just-out-of-the-closet Kevin (Andrew Keegan)? How will love-'em-and-leave-'em Cole (Dean Cain) feel when he's rejected by the closeted movie star?-but to little effect, despite some snappy one-liners and occasional keen observances of gay culture. Writer-director Greg Berlanti's screenplay still feels about two or three drafts away from completion, and when faced with stalling action, he opts for a montage set to one of many Carpenters' songs (covers, not the actual hits themselves). Kudos go to the acidic Weber for infusing what could have been a whiny character with a dry, intelligent wit, and the surprisingly charming Cain, who makes Cole someone you can't really hate too much despite all his faults-it would be like hating a puppy. If only all the characters were half as appealing. -Mark Englehart.

Fallen Angels was originally planned as one section of director Wong Kar-Wai's best-known film, Chungking Express, but eventually it grew into its own distinct and delirious shape. In many ways, Fallen Angels may be the better film, a dark, frantic fun-house ride through Hong Kong's nighttime world. Part of the film is a love story between two people who have barely met: a young, ultra-hip hit man (Leon Lai) and the dreamy operative (Michele Reis) who plans his jobs. Much of the movie is given over to a very strange subplot about a manic mute (Takeshi Kaneshiro) who goes on bizarre nocturnal prowls through a closed food market-like almost everything else in Wong's films, this is antic, stylish, and oddly touching, all at the same time. It must be said that, also like Wong's other films, Fallen Angels is fragmented and oblique to the point of occasional incomprehensibility…but then suddenly something wild or wonderful happens, such as the moment when the killer leaves the scene of a spectacular shooting and is promptly waylaid by a cheerful old school chum on a public bus. These coups-whether lyrical, violent, or simply "how on earth did they get that shot?"-are tossed off by Wong and cinematographer Christopher Doyle with all the cool of the hired killer, as though the movie were a cigarette dangling from a pair of oh-so-casual lips. This is exactly why so many otherwise calm critics fell all over themselves in hailing Wong Kar-Wai as one of the most exciting filmmakers of his generation. -Robert Horton.

Philo Beddoe (Clint Eastwood) is back in this sequel to Every Which Way but Loose, once again brawling to make ends meet and just trying to manage his life with a crazy mother (Ruth Gordon), a dimwitted best friend (Geoffrey Lewis) and, of course, Clyde the Orangutan. He's had enough of this life, but when a mobster (Harry Guardino) comes along to make him an offer he can't refuse, Philo must use his wits as well as his fists to get himself out of yet another jam. The humor is thin and sporadic (though Gordon is in fine form), and Eastwood has since gone on to better things; but a film that features a brawl with a monkey and a motorcycle gang can't be all bad. -Robert Lane.

The three-day Woodstock music festival in 1969 was the pivotal event of the 1960s peace movement, and this landmark concert film is the definitive record of that milestone of rock & roll history. It's more than a chronicle of the hippie movement, however; this is a film of genuine historical and social importance, capturing the spirit of America in transition, when the Vietnam War was at its peak and antiwar protest was fully expressed through the liberating music of the time. With a brilliant crew at his disposal (including a young editor named Martin Scorsese), director Michael Wadleigh worked with over 300 hours of footage to create his original 225-minute director's cut, which was cut by 40 minutes for the film's release in 1970. Eight previously edited segments were restored in 1994, and the original director's cut of Woodstock is now the version most commonly available on videotape and DVD. The film deservedly won the Academy Award for Best Documentary, and it's still a stunning achievement. Abundant footage taken among the massive crowd ("half a million strong") expresses the human heart of the event, from skinny-dipping hippies to accidental overdoses, to unpredictable weather, midconcert childbirth, and the thoughtful (or just plain rambling) reflections of the festive participants. Then, of course, there is the music-a nonstop parade of rock & roll from the greatest performers of the period, including Crosby, Stills, and Nash, Canned Heat, The Who, Richie Havens, Joan Baez, Ten Years After, Sly & The Family Stone, Santana, and many more. Watching this ambitious film, as the saying goes, is the next best thing to being there-it's a time-travel journey to that once-in-a-lifetime event. -Jeff Shannon.

Still the tightest, sharpest, and most cynical of Hollywood's official deathless classics, bracingly tough even by post-Tarantino standards. Humphrey Bogart is Dashiell Hammett's definitive private eye, Sam Spade, struggling to keep his hard-boiled cool as the double-crosses pile up around his ankles. The plot, which dances all around the stolen Middle Eastern statuette of the title, is too baroque to try to follow, and it doesn't make a bit of difference. The dialogue, much of it lifted straight from Hammett, is delivered with whip-crack speed and sneering ferocity, as Bogie faces off against Peter Lorre and Sydney Greenstreet, fends off the duplicitous advances of Mary Astor, and roughs up a cringing "gunsel" played by Elisha Cook Jr. It's an action movie of sorts, at least by implication: the characters always seem keyed up, right on the verge of erupting into violence. This is a turning-point picture in several respects: John Huston (The African Queen) made his directorial debut here in 1941, and Bogart, who had mostly played bad guys, was a last-minute substitution for George Raft, who must have been kicking himself for years afterward. This is the role that made Bogart a star and established his trend-setting (and still influential) antihero persona. -David Chute.

Larry Cohen scratched out some of the most memorably offbeat exploitation films of the 1970s, including two of the most energetic blaxploitation action classics: Black Caesar and its sequel, Hell Up in Harlem, which made a star of Fred Williamson. In 1996 they reunited for this tribute to the good old days and producer-star Williamson brought along a few of his fellow 1970s blaxplo icons: Jim Brown (Slaughter), Pam Grier (Foxy Brown), Richard Roundtree (Shaft), and Ron O'Neal (Superfly). They play old friends and former members of a neighborhood gang in economically depressed Gary, Indiana, who reunite when a new generation of gangbangers using their old street name, the Rebels, turns the city into a war zone. It's great fun to see the old faces back on the screen-Williamson is still buff and tough, and Brown and Grier have become more charismatic with age-but they're let down by a slack script and lazy direction despite an almost nonstop barrage of gunfights and back-alley brawls. Even with revved-up 1990s firepower, the film never really captures the explosive energy of the films that made their reputations. You're better off seeing the originals. Paul Winfield and Isabel Sanford also star, and Cohen casts cult faves Charles Napier, Wings Hauser, and Robert Forster in supporting roles. -Sean Axmaker.