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.

Anthony Perkins gets a thorough workout in Edge of Sanity, and it looks as if the actor decided to have fun with his wild role. Good decision, because this movie crosses the edge of sanity right away and sails off the cliff. The concept has possibilities: what if Robert Louis Stevenson's fictional Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde were implicated in the crimes of Jack the Ripper? Perkins, of course, plays Jekyll as well as the demented "Jack" Hyde, whose nighttime perversions are unusually lurid, even for a serial-killer picture. The movie's utter sleaziness overwhelms whatever promise the original idea had, with no help from the low budget. We're left with the class of Perkins, who incorporates welcome bits of Norman Bates into his role(s). When his eyebrow begins arching and the nervous grin goes quivering, you know Perkins is in his element. -Robert Horton.

This brilliant film manages to reinterpret the story of Victor Hugo's classic novel, critique it, and investigate the nature of art and life on top of that-all in three hours that zip past, fueled by the dynamic performance of French icon Jean-Paul Belmondo (Breathless, Le Doulos). In 1900, Henri Fortin (Belmondo) is wrongfully imprisoned for murder; his loyal wife is forced into menial labor and prostitution; then in the beginning of World War II, Fortin's son (Belmondo again) helps a Jewish family elude the Nazis, setting in motion his own imprisonment, escape, and adventures as a criminal. Not only is that just the first half of the movie, there are also the story lines of the husband, wife, and daughter of the Jewish family, who each have their own struggles. The conclusion is joyous and heartbreaking. Director Claude Lelouch (A Man and a Woman) handles the entire movie with supreme skill, humor, and compassion. -Bret Fetzer.

"I've only been to Nancherrow once. I thought it was very beautiful, but somehow not part of the real world," says the headmistress of St. Ursula's to young Judith. Judith Dunbar, the heroine of Rosamunde Pilcher's Coming Home, starts her journey at this boarding school when her mother and sister leave to join her father in Singapore. It is here that she first gets to know her soon-to-be lifelong friend, Loveday Carey-Lewis. Through Loveday, Judith is welcomed into the Carey-Lewis family and invited to the majestic estate of Nancherrow. Coming Home truly shows a fairy-tale England. The beautiful coastal scenery and the flawless posh accents of all the characters make this almost unbelievable. Everyone is so kind, so repentant at the first hint of any mistake, and so happy-even the tragedies have their silver lining. Joanna Lumley and Peter O'Toole's roles as the happy Carey-Lewises hardly tax their acting ability, although they portray this frightfully British upper-class couple exactingly. [+]

Sergei Eisenstein's revolutionary sophomore feature has so long stood as a textbook example of montage editing that many have forgotten what an invigoratingly cinematic experience he created. A 20th-anniversary tribute to the 1905 revolution, Eisenstein portrays the revolt in microcosm with a dramatization of the real-life mutiny aboard the battleship Potemkin. The story tells a familiar party-line message of the oppressed working class (in this case the enlisted sailors) banding together to overthrow their oppressors (the ship's officers), led by proto-revolutionary Vakulinchuk. When he dies in the shipboard struggle the crew lays his body to rest on the pier, a moody, moving scene where the citizens of Odessa slowly emerge from the fog to pay their respects. As the crowd grows Eisenstein turns the tenor from mourning a fallen comrade to celebrating the collective achievement. The government responds by sending soldiers and ships to deal with the mutinous crew and the supportive townspeople, which climaxes in the justly famous (and often imitated and parodied) Odessa Steps massacre. Eisenstein edits carefully orchestrated motions within the frame to create broad swaths of movement, shots of varying length to build the rhythm, close-ups for perspective and shock effect, and symbolic imagery for commentary, all to create one of the most cinematically exciting sequences in film history. Eisenstein's film is Marxist propaganda to be sure, but the power of this masterpiece lies not in its preaching but its poetry. -Sean Axmaker.