Earth is a desolate wasteland in Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within. Humanity has been decimated by an invasion of Phantoms, insubstantial aliens that extract and devour the spirits of living things. The few remaining humans have retreated to a handful of cities that are protected by massive bio-energy shields. The beautiful Dr. Aki Ross (voiced by Ming-Na) and her mentor Dr. Sid (Donald Sutherland) have discovered that the energy signatures of eight key Earth spirits can cancel out and destroy the Phantoms. With the help of Captain Edwards (Alec Baldwin) and his band of marines, they must scour the globe for the last two remaining spirits before General Hein (James Woods) manipulates the refugee government into attacking the aliens with an orbital laser that may also destroy the Earth. Hironobu Sakaguchi's film is taken from the popular Final Fantasy video game franchise, which is particularly well suited to film adaptation with its series of original stories, but the movie features entirely new characters and settings. And like Toy Story and Shrek, Final Fantasy: The Spirits Within is completely computer generated. Unlike those cartoon comedies, though, The Spirits Within is a serious science fiction drama with astonishingly human digital actors. [+]

While not everyone's idea of a proper opera singer, there's no denying soprano Maria Ewing's artistry as a performer, which is why her portrayal of Strauss's (and, from the original play, Oscar Wilde's) heroine in this 1992 staging is so riveting to watch. Her intensity, often misdirected in other portrayals, is focused on the teenage temptress she's playing, and she even performs a credibly sexy dance of the seven veils. Her then-husband, director Sir Peter Hall, makes sure that the audience sees his wife in the altogether at its conclusion (admittedly something not too many opera singers could pull off). Otherwise, Sir Peter's production is properly strange, making viewers squirm while watching so many abhorrent people onstage. Michael Devlin is in strong voice as John the Baptist, and Kenneth Riegel makes Tetrarch the heinous devil he surely is. Edward Downes and the Orchestra of the Royal Opera House bring out every thrilling aspect of the young Strauss's still-disturbing score. -Kevin Filipski.

This 1981 television miniseries, based on Ernest K. Gann's historical novel The Antagonists, is a dramatization of a documented revolt by nearly a thousand Jerusalem Jews against Roman oppressors in A. D. 72 to 73. Following a city-wide siege by Rome's soldiers, Jewish Zealots move into a fortress in the mountains of Masada, from which they present a defense strong enough to convince the enemy to negotiate. Peter O'Toole, in all his golden dignity, plays Cornelius Flavius Silva, commander of the Roman legions, and Peter Strauss is Zealot leader Eleazar ben Yair. Both are outstanding as representatives from each side trying, in good faith, to find a way out of the deadlocked situation. Unfortunately, neither realizes that Rome has no intention of yielding, resulting in one of the greatest tragedies in Jewish history. A strong cast of character actors-David Warner, Barbara Carrera, Timothy West, and Anthony Quayle-is rewardingly watchable, the action and sets are persuasive without overwhelming the story's human dimension, and direction by Boris Sagal (The Omega Man) is crisp and enthralling. This was a pleasure to watch when it was first broadcast, and it holds up very well today. [+]

When you've got Vincent Price, Basil Rathbone, and Peter Lorre all in the same movie, how can you go wrong? Tales of Terror is a trio of Edgar Allen Poe stories, starring three of horror's greats and produced and directed by the immortal Roger Corman. The first story, "Morella," involves a girl (Debra Paget) who returns to her isolated, spooky family home to see her estranged father (Price) for the first time in 26 years. He's let the housekeeping slide a bit-cobwebs abound and, oh, yes, his dead wife is still upstairs. Peter Lorre joins the fun for "The Black Cat," a piece with comic flavor that allows Price to show his rarely seen silly side, and then it's Basil Rathbone's turn to be creepy in "The Case of M. Valdemar," the tale of a mesmerist who decides to experiment with the unknown (bad idea). The movie is well paced, and makes good use of comedy without undercutting its chills. It's a rare treat to see this many masters of the genre working together and so clearly enjoying themselves. Don't miss it. -Ali Davis.

A man runs through deserted night streets, stalked by the lights of a car. It's a definitive film noir situation, promptly sidetracked-yet curiously not undercut-by real-life slapstick: watching over his shoulder for pursuers, the running man charges smack into a lamppost. The figure that helps him to his feet is not one of the pursuers (they've oddly disappeared) but an anonymous passerby, who proceeds to escort him for a block or two, genially schmoozing about the mundane, slow-blooming glories of marriage. The Good Samaritan departs at the next turning, never to be identified and never to be seen again. And the first man-who, despite this evocative introduction, is not even destined to be the main character of the movie-immediately resumes his helter-skelter flight from an as-yet-unspecified and unseen menace. The opening of Shoot the Piano Player, François Truffaut's second feature film, is one of the signal moments of the French New Wave-an inspired intersection of grim fatality and happy accident, location shooting and lurid melodrama, movie convention and frowzy, uncontainable life. At this point in his career-right after The 400 Blows, just before his great Jules and Jim-the world seemed wide for Truffaut, as wide as the Dyaliscope screen that he and cinematographer Raoul Coutard deployed with unprecedented spontaneity and lyricism. Anything might wander into frame and become part of the flow: an oddball digression, an unexpected change of mood, a small miracle of poetic insight. The official agenda of the movie is adapting a noirish story by American writer David Goodis, about a celebrated concert musician (Charles Aznavour) hiding out as a piano player in a saloon. He's on the run as much as the guy-his older brother-in the first scene. [+]

Bruce Ricker's documentary Clint Eastwood: Out of the Shadows offers an entertaining, in-depth look at this American icon. It's hard to believe now, but there was a time when Clint Eastwood and his films were casually dismissed by critics as inconsequential pop tripe. This film explores Eastwood's career from his early days as a stock player on the Universal lot to his seven years on TV's Rawhide, and his breakout hits with Italian spaghetti westerns through his eventual acceptance by the critical cognoscenti as an elder statesman of film. Punctuated with great interviews and priceless home movies and outtake footage, this film is sure to make any Eastwood fan's day. -Kristian St. Clair.