Reminiscent of Jean Cocteau's Beauty and the Beast, this intriguing gothic romance marked the directorial debut of Terence Young (From Russia with Love; Dr. No; Mayerling, 1968). Corridor of Mirrors begins in post-World War I Italy, where an artist becomes obsessed with a woman in a Renaissance-era painting. Imagining himself to be the reincarnation of her lover, the wealthy eccentric returns to London to make over his mansion in 16th-century Venetian fashion and search for his lady's modern counterpart. Impressed by his charms, a young British beauty is eager to play the part, even dress in period costume. The fantasy unravels, however, as the darkness of the artist's vision is revealed. Like Cocteau before him, Young treats viewers to a dream world created with lavish sets, exquisite cinematography, and the mesmerizing music of Georges Auric.

Terry George, the cowriter of In the Name of the Father, wrote and directed this 1996 drama based on actual events from 1981, when Irish Republican Army prisoners in Belfast's Maze Prison staged a hunger strike to protest against British prime minister Margaret Thatcher's political policies. Led by IRA prisoner Bobby Sands, the hunger strike eventually lead to the deaths of 10 prisoners, who had refused to wear prison uniforms to emphasize their identity as political (and not criminal) prisoners. But this fictionalized account is not about the hunger strikers as much as the moral dilemma faced by two of the strikers' mothers, played by Helen Mirren and Fionnula Flanagan in an emotional drama that gets right to the heart of the "Troubles" in Northern Ireland. While Annie (Flanagan) understands her son's political motivations and supports his readiness to die, Kathleen (Mirren) is a pacifist who cannot comprehend how any mother could sacrifice her own son to a political principle. The women become friends despite their opposing views, and desperately hope for a compromise in Irish-British negotiations while the hunger strikers continue to wither away. By keeping the Northern Irish conflict on such a purely personal level, Some Mother's Son both clarifies and complicates the difficult issues involved, making clear arguments for both mothers' actions in the context of a milestone event in Northern Ireland's history. The film doesn't pretend to hide its anti-British position, but the cause of death on both sides is deeply acknowledged. Through Helen Mirren's richly layered performance, Some Mother's Son asks if any belief is truly worth dying for, and poses the question on powerfully personal terms. -Jeff Shannon.

Franc Roddam's terrifically energetic movie, set to music from the Who's Quadrophenia, is-at the very least, the best film ever based on a rock album (and, yes, that includes, Tommy, Pink Floyd: The Wall, and Jesus Christ Superstar). Actually, this tale of the battle between two early '60s youth subcultures-Mods and Rockers-in the seaside teenage wasteland of Brighton, England, isn't so much a cinematic "version" of the Who's 1979 double-record rock opera as it is a story based on the sequence of songs on the album. Quadrophenia is about that crucial time in teenhood when the lion's share of your sense of identity is tied up in the music you listen to, the clothes you wear, and the groups you hang out with. Jimmy (Phil Daniels) identifies himself with the sharp-dressing, scooter-riding Mods, who listen to American soul and British pop-rock (The Who themselves were once rather Mod). The Rockers, on the other hand, are leather-jacketed, black-booted, motorcycle-riding tough guys who listen primarily to classic American rock & roll. The film captures this minor pop-culture revolution perfectly. Look for Sting as a club-hopping slickster, who's shameful secret is that he's a hotel bellboy by day. -Jim Emerson.

Writer-director Alan Parker's feature debut Bugsy Malone is a pastiche of American movies, a musical gangster comedy set in 1929, featuring prohibition, showgirls, and gang warfare, with references to everything from Some Like It Hot to The Godfather. Uniquely, though, all the parts are played by children, including an excellent if underused Jodie Foster as platinum-blonde singer Tallulah, Scott Baio in the title role and a nine-year-old Dexter Fletcher wielding a baseball bat. Cream-firing "spluge guns" sidestep any real violence and the movie climaxes cheerfully with the biggest custard pie fight this side of Casino Royale (1967). Unfortunately for a musical, Paul Williams's score-part honky-tonk jazz homage, part 1970s Elton John-style pop-lets the side down with a lack of memorable tunes. Nevertheless, Parker's direction is spot on and the look of the film is superb, a fantasy movie-movie existing in the same parallel reality as The Cotton Club and Chicago. A rare British love letter to classic American cinema, Bugsy Malone remains a true original; in Parker's words "the work of a madman" and one of the strangest yet most stylish children's films ever made. -Gary S. Dalkin.

Could the true story of the financial scandal that shook France to the brink of civil war in 1933 be more timely? Jean Paul Belmondo is perfectly cast as Serge Alexander (a. k. a. Stavisky), the one-time underworld con man who charms his way to the top of the French financial world with bluff, cunning, and a bankroll of phony vouchers. Screenwriter Jorge Semprún (Z) weaves Stavisky's story through the tapestry of European politics: the rise of fascism, the stain of anti-Semitism, the shadow of impending war. The aloof style of Alain Resnais (Last Year at Marienbad) is warmed by the smiling charisma of Belmondo and by Charles Boyer's poignant turn as a sentimental, nearly bankrupt Baron. Elegantly shot by the great Sacha Vierny and accompanied by a lush Stephen Sondheim score, this multi-faceted gem is one of Resnais's most satisfying and accessible films. -Sean Axmaker.

The second of the three Merchant/Ivory films adapting E. M. Forster novels (between A Room with a View and Howard's End), Maurice deals with a theme few period pieces dare mention-a young man's struggle with his homosexuality. It's not just a gay coming-of-age story, however. The hero wrestles with British class society as much as his personal and sexual identity. The film opens on a stormy, windswept beach, as an older man awkwardly instructs young, fatherless Maurice Hall (James Wilby) in the "sacred mysteries" of sex. The same turbulent, wordless struggle with passion lasts throughout this slowly evolving, beautifully filmed story. Novelist E. M. Forster's brainy, British melodrama hinges on choice and compulsion, as the pensive hero falls for two completely different men. [+]