A classic example of a good idea ruined by Hollywood formulas. Jim Belushi and Tupac Shakur (in his last performance) are two corrupt cops with an effective scheme: they rob and kill drug dealers. Unfortunately, one of their victims turns out to be an undercover agent for the DEA, and the two bad cops have to scramble to find a suspect to pin the murder on. Soon they're caught in a web of missing evidence, false witnesses, and frayed nerves-Gang Related could have been a lean film noir, slowly tightening until the men break under the pressure. Unfortunately, this isn't the 1940s, and suddenly the plot takes an absurd twist into the most melodramatic coincidence imaginable. It's too bad. Also featuring the lovely Lela Rochon, James Earl Jones, David Paymer, and a surprise performance by Dennis Quaid. -Bret Fetzer.

The inspiration for the 1999 Robin Williams comedy Jakob the Liar didn't come from Roberto Begnini's acclaimed tragifarce Life Is Beautiful; it's a remake of a 1976 German film. Curiously enough, the original wasn't so much a comedy as a wistful, sad drama of the human spirit buoyed by memories, fantasies, and a lie that takes on a life of its own. Set in the waning days of the Warsaw ghetto when the Polish Jews have all but given up hope as the population dwindles and rumors fly, sad sack Jakob (Vlastimil Brodsky) overhears news of a Russian advance on a nearby German town while detained at the police station. Because no one will believe he survived a visit to the Nazi police, he makes up a story of a hidden radio. News of Jakob's secret spreads like wildfire through the town, lifting spirits and starting debates, and he's forced to start making up news to keep the neighbors satisfied. In the film's most touching scene, Jakob creates a mock broadcast for the orphaned girl he looks after. She peeks around the corner to see his handiwork, then chooses to believe the fantasy instead and sits back down to enjoy his stories. Frank Beyer's picture, which was nominated for an Oscar for Best Foreign Film in 1977, becomes a quiet, gently ironic tale about the need to believe, against all evidence. -Sean Axmaker.

Dan Aykroyd and Harold Ramis wrote the script, but Bill Murray gets all the best lines and moments in this 1984 comedy directed by Ivan Reitman (Meatballs). The three comics, plus Ernie Hudson, play the New York City-based team that provides supernatural pest control, and Sigourney Weaver is the love interest possessed by an ancient demon. Reitman and company are full of original ideas about hobgoblins-who knew they could "slime" people with green plasma goo?-but hovering above the plot is Murray's patented ironic view of all the action. Still a lot of fun, and an obvious model for sci-fi comedies such as Men in Black. -Tom Keogh.

Back when Jack Nicholson was a Hollywood unknown appearing in Roger Corman quickies such as Crybaby Killer and Little Shop of Horrors, it wasn't unusual for Corman to make a movie in just a few days. That was the case with this nifty little thriller, which was filmed in just three days using the same sets that Corman had used in his Boris Karloff thriller The Raven, which Corman had finished ahead of schedule. In fact, the sets were being torn down almost as fast as Corman could film them, but that hasn't stopped this moody little gem from acquiring a modicum of cult status over the years. Karloff plays the alleged baron of an isolated castle on the Baltic coast, where a Napoleonic officer (played by Nicholson!) appears after becoming intrigued by the presence of a mysterious and beautiful woman. Karloff's baron has a dark history, of course, and creepy atmosphere makes up for the minimal plot, which makes The Terror a vintage treat for horror fans. -Jeff Shannon.

This is both rare and well-done: a sadly neglected grand opera, as spectacular in its own way as Aida or Turandot, in a production that is not likely to be surpassed in the foreseeable future. Meyerbeer's L'Africaine is remembered today almost exclusively for a single aria that Enrico Caruso recorded in Italian, "O Paradiso," sung by Placido Domingo in the original French in this production. It also offers an intensely tangled plot, exotic dancing, pagan rituals, a dizzying storm at sea and shipwreck, and a wealth of flowing melody. The story is a fictionalized treatment of the adventures of the Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama (Domingo), with a love triangle involving Selika, queen of Madagascar (Shirley Verrett), and a Portuguese noblewoman, Ines (Ruth Ann Swenson). The whole cast is strong; Domingo is excellent, and Verrett often dominates the screen. -Joe McLellan.

The title credit for Delicatessen reads "Presented by Terry Gilliam," and it's easy to understand why the director of Brazil was so supportive of this outrageously black French comedy from 1991. Like Gilliam, French codirectors Jean-Pierre Jeunet and Marc Caro have wildly inventive imaginations that gravitate to the darker absurdities of human behavior, and their visual extravagance is matched by impressive technical skill. Here, making their feature debut, Jeunet and Caro present a postapocalyptic scenario set entirely in a dank and gloomy building where the landlord operates a delicatessen on the ground floor. But this is an altogether meatless world, so the butcher-landlord keeps his customers happy by chopping unsuspecting victims into cutlets, and he's sharpening his knife for a new tenant (French comic actor Dominque Pinon) who's got the hots for the butcher's nearsighted daughter! Delicatessen is a feast (if you will) of hilarious vignettes, slapstick gags, and sweetly eccentric characters, including a man in a swampy room full of frogs, a woman doggedly determined to commit suicide (she never gets its right), and a pair of brothers who make toy sound boxes that "moo" like cows. It doesn't amount to much as a story, but that hardly matters; this is the kind of comedy that springs from a unique wellspring of imagination and inspiration, and it's handled with such visual virtuosity that you can't help but be mesmerized. There's some priceless comedy happening here, some of which is so inventive that you may feel the urge to stand up and cheer. -Jeff Shannon.

Hayao Miyazaki (Princess Mononoke, My Neighbor Totoro) achieved his first international hit with this delightful 1979 adventure yarn. Quick-paced, high-spirited, and loaded with wit, Cagliostro is a dandy throwback to the caper pictures of the '60s. International man of mystery Lupin III stumbles back into the picturesque European duchy of Cagliostro with his faithful and gruff sidekick, Jigen. They will encounter, in no particular order, a runaway bride, a magical ring, an evil count with a dastardly plan, an inspector bent on catching Lupin, perilous rooftop chases, hooded guards with superhuman powers, a well-used dungeon, a counterfeiting scheme, and an ancient mystery promising grand treasure. Lupin deploys an array of Bond-type gadgets, razor-sharp wit, and a surprise up both his sleeves. Despite the hail of bullets, this caper is great fun, never taking itself seriously. Miyazaki's career illustrates how limiting the term anime can be for these films; there are hardly more than 10 live-action films of this genre as entertaining. Far less mean than Hollywood fare, it nevertheless is for ages 9 and up with language and gunplay. The Lupin character has been featured in other anime films, but never as successfully or with as much fun as in Miyazaki's film. The new English-language dubbing is excellent to boot. [+]