This interesting Belgian film from 1994 has a surface subject that might make a few guys wince: an 18th-century castrato, or castrated male opera singer. A superstar in Europe, Farinelli the vocalist-despite compromised equipment-gets his share of groupies and is showered with attention and gifts from rich patrons. Meanwhile, his brother-a so-so composer whose career and fortunes are inextricably linked to his sibling, as per their father's wishes-feels like a sham for enjoying the fruits of another's success. For director Gérard Corbiau, the real story is that of the forced bond between the two men, and their unspoken awareness that their separate destinies have been slowed by the arrangement. Corbiau gives us the best of two worlds: a costume drama with an unusual, even exotic, story line, and a tender, universal tale of real love. The opera sequences are a kick: the breathless crowds, Farinelli's hammy control over the drama, and his stunning castrato voice (manufactured by Corbiau via synthesized merger of male and female voices) and all make for great fun. -Tom Keogh.

When Mac MacIntyre (played with deadpan perfection by Peter Riegert) is sent by his star-gazing, slightly insane Knox Oil and Gas boss (Burt Lancaster) to Scotland's West Coast to buy the rights to a seaside town slated to be the site of an oil refinery, Mac embarks on his journey reluctantly. "Why do I have to go to all the way to Scotland?" Mac complains to a coworker. "I'm really more of a Telex man. " But on the way to closing the deal, a funny thing happens: the place takes root in Mac. The town's eccentric inhabitants, eventful night sky, and stunning scenery soak into his psyche and combine to bring a very different Mac to the surface, a Mac who collects seashells, walks on the beach in his jeans instead of his suit, and throws his calendar watch, beeping "meeting time in Houston," into the sea. Mac eventually vies to switch places with Gordon Urquhart-accountant, bartender, innkeeper, and community representative in the land deal. After an evening spent drinking 42-year-old scotch ("old enough to be out on its own," Mac chirps, and then laughs smugly at his own joke) and negotiating the real estate deal, Mac tries to negotiate a deal for himself-to trade his high-rise Houston apartment, Porsche, and oil-company job for Urquhart's less traditional, but more fulfilling, life. The plot runs along almost as if behind the scenes, and the characters are intriguing, but the real appeal here is the incisive yet gentle humor. During a visit to a Knox Oil lab, Mac is shown into a room that contains a miniature of the town he has been sent to purchase. The head of the lab says, "Welcome to our little world," and then gives Mac the plastic replica of the town as a souvenir. [+]

Oh, the heartache. Oh, the drug intake. And oh, the sales records they did break. It's all here in this 70-minute, 1997 chronicle of the making of one of pop music's biggest albums ever, Rumours. All five members of Fleetwood Mac's most successful incarnation are interviewed, and their comments are even more candid than the confessional songs ("Dreams," "Go Your Own Way" et al. ) on the album itself; descriptions of the torturous process of making a record while John and Christine McVie's marriage and the Lindsey Buckingham- Stevie Nicks liaison were breaking up at the same time makes for compelling, if slightly discomfiting, viewing. Meanwhile, lest one forget that Rumours was terrific as well as revealing, plenty of attention is paid to the songs. Particularly fascinating (as with most Classic Albums packages) are the breakdowns of the separate instrumental and vocal components of individual tracks. A great tale, wonderfully told. -Sam Graham.

En esta divertida y realista historia Jorge Negrete representa el papel de un vagabundo con doble personalidad quien se encuentra con una necia y rica escultora (Gloria Marín) quien decide tratar de moldear a este hombre a su gusto como lo haría con cualquier obra suya, pero no se imagina las sorpresas que le esperan con este "Charro Mexicano" IN SPANISH NO SUBTITLES

In Patrice Leconte's cool, precise moral comedy Ridicule, the corrupt, sycophantic court of King Louis XVI is invaded by a provincial nobleman, Ponceludon de Malavoy (Charles Berling), who with the help of his own sharp tongue, the coaching of the retired courtier Marquis de Bellegarde (Jean Rochefort), and the love of the Marquis's beautiful, nature-loving daughter (Judith Godrèche) hopes to win funds for his project to drain the fever-infested swamps of his homeland. But first he has to get by the cunning, sexually manipulative Madame de Blayac (Fanny Ardant, imperious and superb) and her waspish, priestly ally, the Abbot de Vilecourt (Bernard Giraudeau). As shaped by screenwriter Rémi Waterhouse, Ridicule is a kind of dashing verbal swashbuckler in which duels aren't fought with swords, but with the equally fatal weapon of words-rapier wit in its most literal sense. Laconte directs with an appealing elegance and a scathing sobriety as he unfolds a fable that could just as easily take place in a Wall Street boardroom, a Park Avenue executive suite, or a Hollywood commissary. -Dave Kehr.

Of all Puccini's major operas, the intimate tragedy of Madama Butterfly is least in need of elaborate staging and might therefore benefit most from the close scrutiny of film. The story is domestic, the setting Spartan, the incidental characters kept to a minimum. This 1974 version, however, demonstrates that Butterfly still needs a healthy injection of proscenium arch melodrama. Director Jean-Pierre Ponelle's production strives for realism but remains unfortunately studio-bound, having neither the benefit of location filming nor the heightened reality of an opera stage. The exterior is a perpetually fog-shrouded heath of indeterminate locale; the interior is cramped and unadorned. The setting is just too prosaic to contain the epic emotions of grand opera. Thankfully, the cast is a superb one, headed by Plácido Domingo's rakish Pinkerton and Mirella Freni's rubicund Butterfly. Their singing is incomparable, as is Herbert von Karajan's musical direction of the Vienna Philharmonic. The singers mime to prerecorded music, which is occasionally disconcerting since when film demands close-ups, opera provides broad gestures. Musically, this Butterfly is impeccable. [+]

Rebecca is an ageless, timeless adult movie about a woman who marries a widower but fears she lives in the shadow of her predecessor. This was Hitchcock's first American feature, and it garnered the Best Picture statue at the 1941 Academy Awards. In today's films, most twists and surprises are ridiculous or just gratuitous, so it's sobering to look back on this film where every revelation not only shocks, but makes organic sense with the story line. Laurence Olivier is dashing and weak, fierce and cowed. Joan Fontaine is strong yet submissive, defiant yet accommodating. There isn't a false moment or misstep, but the film must have killed the employment outlook of any women named Danvers for about 20 years. Brilliant stuff. -Keith Simanton.