German actress Nina Hoss gives a commanding performance in A Girl Called Rosemarie, based on the true story of a modern-day courtesan. During West Germany's rise to economic recovery in the 1950s, Rosemarie Nittribit (Hoss) pulls out of orphaned destitution by selling herself, using her wits as much as her charms to slowly elevate her social status. She gets embroiled with a wealthy industrialist named Konrad Hartog (Heiner Lauterbach) whom she expects to marry-only to discover that he already has a fiancée. While coping with this blow to her plans, a French businessman trains her in good manners and upper-class fashion so that she can help him blackmail German businessmen; but Rosemarie never stops trying to win back Hartog, until utter abandonment leads her to seek revenge. Attention to detail and compelling performances make this movie an exemplary portrait of sex, power, and manipulation. -Bret Fetzer.

During its release, this was the most popular film of all time in its native Italy. A typical Roberto Benigni comedy of mistaken identity, this 1991 work stars the actor-director in two roles, one a tough mafioso named Toothpick and the other a meek bus driver who is the gangster's look-alike. When the bad guy's girlfriend comes on to the clueless innocent-and she brings him along to her Sicilian villa-the slapstick madness rolls into high gear. Benigni really is a very funny and often remarkable clown, and he employs his usual physical gags in great and gratifying abundance. His script's inspiration reaches several peak moments when the mysteries between light and dark doppelgangers are suggested. One could reasonably call this sort of Jekyll-and-Hyde tale the closest Benigni has yet come to making his version of Jerry Lewis's The Nutty Professor. -Tom Keogh.

Picking up the story thread left by 1983's Terms of Endearment, this overwrought sequel is made palatable by Shirley MacLaine's charismatic performance, which in turn is nearly equaled by Marion Ross's role as her housekeeper. An unexpected surprise, Ross obviously was never allowed to display her range as Mrs. Cunningham on Happy Days. Returning as the vibrant Aurora Greenway, MacLaine far outshines the thin material involving the tangled and unhappy lives of her three grandchildren. The plot picks up 13 years after the death of Greenway's daughter (played by Debra Winger in the original). One of the kids is in jail; one is living in poverty. Her granddaughter, played with prickly rebelliousness by Juliette Lewis, is heading for all sorts of trouble. The plot, told in disconnected and maudlin episodic segments, often borders on the absurd. The characters screech and weep, one of them dies, then we watch others screech and weep some more. So why bother? Because it is occasionally quite witty, and MacLaine indeed shines as brightly as the evening star to which she is compared. [+]

"Welcome to Nero's House of Women" greets a concubine to a slave girl, Lygia (Deborah Kerr). Later this self-same greeter reveals that she, too, like Lygia, is really a fellow Christian neophyte. And it's that mixture of tawdry Hollywood sex and a strong Christian message that makes this film an enjoyable "gentiles and gladiators" flick. Marcus Vinicius returns home after conquering the Britons to find that Rome is infected with a crazy new sect called Christians and that his beloved emperor Nero (Peter Ustinov, roly-poly and wicked) has become increasingly wacky. Marcus tries his centurion wiles on Lygia, and she's smitten, but she's also a Christian convert and begs Marcus not to force her to choose between him and her god. The Christians have a tough go of it, with martyrdom in the Coliseum as punishment for belonging to the new religion in town. Though three hours long, director Mervyn LeRoy's film always has something going on. It could help you enjoyably kill any rainy Sunday afternoon. -Keith Simanton.

The first feature in the frantic career of Rainer Werner Fassbinder is, like Godard's debut Breathless, a nod to the traditional gangster movie. This time, however, the tough-guy attitudes are imparted to a trio of typical Fassbinder losers, slouching about in the drab underworld of Munich. They are played by Alain Delon lookalike Ulli Lommel (who poses in a trenchcoat and film noir fedora), Fassbinder himself, and the director's blond goddess Hanna Schygulla. The film works hard to subvert conventional notions of movie storytelling, with lots of loooong pauses and stylized gestures-and as such, feels more like a trial run than a full-blown Fassbinder meisterwork. But everywhere, in the insolent opening shot or the final thrilling cut from car interior to bleak landscape, you can sense the utter confidence that burbled out of this gifted German: he was only 23, and he was going places in a hurry. -Robert Horton.

It's tempting to call this harrowing picture a World War II version of All Quiet on the Western Front: both films take the perspective of ordinary German soldiers at ground level. Stalingrad surveys the misery of the battle of Stalingrad, the winter siege that cost the lives of almost one and a half million people, Russian defenders and German invaders alike. Not unlike Spielberg's approach to Saving Private Ryan, German director Joseph Vilsmaier rarely steps outside the action to comment on the higher purpose of the war, assuming the audience is aware of the evil of the Nazi regime. Instead, we simply follow a group of soldiers as they endure a series of gut-wrenching episodes, events which have the tang of authenticity and horror. Vilsmaier has a taste for symbolism and surreal touches, which only add to the unsettling sense of insanity this movie conjures up so well. -Robert Horton.