This movie helped pave the way for common practices in film as we know them today. Norman Bates was a gold mine for character study, and the infamous shower scene has become common curriculum for film classes around the world. Alfred Hitchcock is the master of mystery and suspense, but there's certainly no mystery as to why if you've seen this film.

Marion Crane (Janet Leigh) is a simple woman that has a fairly complicated problem. She's been seeing Sam Loomis (John Gavin), who lives in California, and they're both madly in love and wish to marry. However, he lives on very little money and wouldn't be able to support her. He's stuck in a rut of paying alimony to his ex-wife. On top of that, he also lives in California, which is a bit of a hike from where Marion lives. They continue to see each other when they can, but they want more. They're tired of feeling like they're sneaking around, and want to make it official.

After a rendezvous with Sam during her lunch break, she heads back to work. She's given $40,000 to deposit in the bank for her employer, and she decides to take the money and use it to start the new life with Sam they've always dreamed about.

On her way to California, she stops at the Bates Motel for some much needed rest, and is welcome by owner and caretaker, Norman Bates. He's a very nice man, but reveals to Marion his life as a prisoner. He's bound to that hotel, because he takes care of his sickly mother in the house on the hill out back. It used to bother him, but the very thought of leaving his controlling mother behind fills him with guilt. After Marion finishes her increasingly awkward conversation with Norman, she retires to her room for the evening... and that's the last time anybody sees her alive.

Over the next week, Marion's sister and Sam grow increasingly worried over her sudden disappearance. Their worry is only heightened when a detective that's on the hunt for the missing forty grand starts to confirm their suspicion that Marion's dead. All signs point back to the Bates Motel, but the case is far from being solved. Despite the obvious answer as to where Marion disappeared, how, and why, are the real reasons why you must see this film if you've never done so before.

I can't say anything about Psycho that hasn't been said before. As I mentioned, it's common curriculum for film 101. So, I'm going to tell you why Psycho works so well for me, even after all the years worth of repeat viewing.

Alfred Hitchcock deceives the audience not just through mystery, but in the way the story is told. From the beginning of the film we follow the life of Marion Crane. She's set up to be the central character for the film. It's not as if she just rolls on screen and the infamous shower scene happens in the first ten minutes to set up the mystery. We get to know her, become comfortable with her, and then the shower scene happens and the game changes considerably. It's something you wouldn't expect, and I've never been able to shake the concept of how masterfully Hitchcock played this out.

Pyscho also manages to do something very few movies have ever done for me. The entirety of the film is laced with extremely intense discomfort. For one reason or another, there's always a sense of a cat and mouse game going on. Sure, the concept itself isn't revolutionary, but Hitchcock was able to work it effectively from beginning to end. Everything was crafted to create an atmosphere that kept you on the edge of your seat, from camera angles, lighting, the acting, pacing, as well as using some subliminal photography. There are numerous things Hitchcock had to fight about with the MPAA, so he relied heavily on making something as integral as the shower scene, trick you into seeing something you didn't really see. Incredible amounts of hard work and nit-picky oversight from Hitchcock made this film what it is, and it shows in every frame. I do mean every frame, too.

Some director's put every piece of their soul and being in a movie, and fail miserably. Some, work just as hard and get some very nice recognition for their work. Hitchcock's Psycho however, is an extremely rare case where its effectiveness still works just as good today, as it did back then. That's a quality that very few movies in cinematic history can boast about...

...Psycho is a masterful creation of atmosphere and suspense. This is a film that plays some very dirty tricks on the audience to continually make you sit on the edge of your seat, even after numerous repeat viewings. It's hard to imagine anyone who claims to be a film lover, not appreciating one of the most influential films of all time. Hitchcock was a perfectionist every step of the way whenever it came to any of his masterpieces, and Psycho is a film that looks as close to perfection as anything I've ever seen. I dare you to find a single frame in the film where the cinematography doesn't show the amount of effort that went in camera angling or lighting to provide a feature length amount of chills.

Henson's flirtation with darker material and his curiosity with the thorns of invented mythology found a cozy home in "Crystal." It's a film intended for those who beg for a sense of adventure to their cinema, who revel in the joy of a filmmaker taking a risk and questing vigilantly to raise the art form a few needed notches. "Crystal" is a miraculous rush of innovation and storytelling patience, and, in the last 25 years, the film has grown from a 1982 misfire, to a cult wonder, to a bona-fide classic that's timeless in stature and masterful in execution.

When I write about the film now, I do so from a cradle of absolute reverence. However, ask my opinion when I was a wee lad, and "Crystal" was probably the scariest ride in town. While Henson adored his young audience, he was never one to pander to the nose-pickers, preferring to challenge their eyes with visions of evil and the restorative effects of good; the ultimate battle of destiny between the kindly Mystics (or urRu) and the wicked Skeksis.

What's exhilarating about "Crystal" is that Henson and his collaborators (including co-director Frank Oz) were manufacturing a fairy tale from their own creative well. While influenced by the great fantasy works of the world, Henson paved his own road here; he made certain every corner of the frame was bestowed with a mysterious creature or laborious design effort that created a consuming three-dimensional depth. Honestly, I've never seen such extraordinary effort placed into a feature-film before, and the way Henson and Oz take their time to let the details marry the film's glacial, dreamy pace is endlessly impressive. It's a directorial job of pure faith, and a design accomplishment (courtesy of wizard Brian Froud) that's heart-stopping every inch of the way.

Sure, we have glossy cinematic juggernauts today like Peter Jackson's "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, yet "Crystal" is a film you can nearly reach out and caress; blessed with unmistakable attention placed to the weathered fabrics and wrinkled skin of the characters, not to mention Oswald Morris's luxurious cinematography, which wields splendid coloring like a lethal weapon - I've never viewed a more menacing shade of purple in my life.

Of course, all this is in service of the puppetry, which, at the time (and still is today), was an outrageous advancement in the field; Henson pushed his team to new limits of expression and sheer character size in the roles. With the vulture-like Skeksis, the performers sell the rancid, decaying regality of the species marvelously: a collection of vile beings in full-on panic and deception mode after learning their existence is drawing to a leisurely, painful close. The Mystics are the counter argument: kindly creatures who move with Zen-like grace and march willingly to their fate. Characters like astronomer Aughra and stilt-creations The Landstriders reveal their own lovable novelty, but the blockbuster accomplishments of the film are the Gelflings Jen and Kira, and the exquisiteness of their reactions. They invite a striking level of sympathy for what is essentially a ball of felt with glass eyes and perfectly coiffed hair.

I supposed what "Dark Crystal" boils down to is a mosaic of bravery. It's brave of the production to seek out their own legends and invent their own cocktail of spirituality for a small assembly of puppets. It's brave of the film to demand performers search within themselves to lend invaluable reality to their characters, even if it meant unbearably stifling hours stapled to a partner under layers of wool and rubber. And it's brave of Henson to submit to his loyal audience a demanding piece of storytelling and visual complexity that's miles away from Miss Piggy, Fozzie, and our pal Kermit. There's not a day that goes by where I don't appreciate this monumental leap of filmmaking faith.

FINAL THOUGHTS: Yes, "The Dark Crystal" is a perfect film, and as new generations grow to understand its exquisiteness, the more precious an experience the motion picture becomes. I could watch the film a hundred times and still discover new corners that I've never noticed before, or sly performance quirks that register differently now than they did when I was a child. The picture is a snowballing creation of pure imagination and remains Henson's professional crown jewel. 25 years later, the film hasn't lost a step as a crucial fantasy touchstone, and, in a wonderful twist of fate, continues to amaze people of all ages to this day.

Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver remains one of the finest cinematic achievements of the 1970s and even now, three decades plus since it was made, the film has lost none of its power or relevancy. If anything, given the current political climate of the United States at the time of this writing, the film is just as poignant now as it has ever been. Not only is the film an allegorical piece on the issues that those returning from military service may or may not have to deal with but it also remains an interesting portrait of a socially ostracized and dangerous human being, something we've unfortunately never had any shortage of in the 'real world.'

For the three of you out there who haven't seen Taxi Driver, Robert De Niro plays Travis Bickle, a Viet Nam vet living in New York City who takes a job driving a cab at night. Travis is a loner, he's out there a bit as far as social skills are concerned and he just doesn't relate to the masses. He also sees the New York City he lives and works in as a cesspool, a sewer full of the worst that humanity has to offer. His occupation does nothing but reinforce this for him, as he is routinely forced to deal with junkies, whores and assholes - it's all part of the job.

Things look up for Travis when, seemingly by chance, he meets a beautiful woman named Betsy (Cybill Shepherd long before Moonlighting) who works for presidential hopeful, Charles Palantine (Leonard Harris). He's instantly attracted to her but their courtship soon becomes sour when they can't relate to one another. After Travis takes her to a 42nd St. porno theater on a date, she decides she wants nothing to do with him and the screws start to come loose upstairs for our hero. Shortly after, he runs into an underage prostitute named Iris (a young Jodie Foster) and they develop a strange relationship. Travis, after learning of her plight, takes it upon himself to do what he can to clean up the seedy side of the city, and American Cinema forever changed.

Mick Jagger once sang 'Go ahead, bite the Big Apple, don't mind the maggots.' Unfortunately not everyone can be as selective with their diet as Mick, and Taxi Driver is very much a movie for those people. Anyone who has ever spent a large portion of their time in the heart of an urban metropolis, be it New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, or even Toronto, has no doubt been witness to criminal activity. Whether it's drug dealing, prostitution or theft, crime and violence is to a certain extent a way of life in any major metropolitan area. De Niro, as Travis Bickle, represents that side of us that gets fed up with things. Granted, he's far from healthy - he is quite insane when it all comes down to it - but part of what gives Taxi Driver its power is that Travis Bickle lies inside so many normal, every day citizens.

Bickle is far from a model citizen. His obsession with pornography is probably quite unhealthy and it could very well be part of the reason he's unable to relate to women on what many of us would consider a normal level. He's obviously got a bit of a temper, which we see erupt by the time that the film finishes and there are moments in the film where it's made perfectly clear to us that Travis just 'doesn't get it' as far as other people are concerned. That said, despite what happens in the last twenty-minutes of the picture, is he really the bad guy? Is Travis completely at fault for what happens or is society? Has he been pushed too far? Is he a complete psychopath or, as he says, is he simply someone who stood up?

One of the most remarkable aspects of the picture is how completely alienated Scorsese and writer Paul Schrader were able to make De Niro's Bickle. While De Niro no doubt deserves much of the credit for his portrayal of the character, Scorsese was the one who ensured that the picture was cut the way that it was cut and who did such a phenomenal job of surrounding Bickle with the lowest of the low, the worst that society had to offer. As such, while we may not necessarily agree with Bickle's philosophy or his methods, we can at least to a certain extent understand why he does what he does, particularly after he meets Iris even if their introduction is under rather unusual circumstances.

Schrader, on the other hand, infuses so much of himself and where he was at during a certain point in his life that Bickle is, frighteningly enough, an extension of himself as he is anything else. What makes the character and the circumstances so believable is the fact that so many of us have been there - who hasn't had their heart broken? Who hasn't been attracted and subsequently dismissed by someone who just didn't click? We don't always choose the people in life that we meet, nor do we choose whom we're attracted to. Genetics and biology play a large part in that, a much bigger part than free will does. Can we blame Travis for falling for Betsy? She is quite beautiful, she's interesting and smart and funny and charming. Is it his fault that he's completely incompatible with her? Or is it simply fate, one of life's many injustices?

That said, as deeply personal as the script is and as very much infused with the pissed off enthusiasm of a young Scorsese the film is, De Niro (fresh off of his Academy Award winning performance from The Godfather II) really does make Travis Bickle the instantly recognizable cinematic icon that he is. According to Schrader, a few of the more infamous scenes, the mirror speech for example, where at least partially improvised by De Niro during the production and while he may have gone on to garbage like Meet The Fockers he will always deserve our respect and admiration for the challenging roles that made him the respected actor that he is, Taxi Driver being up there alongside other Scorsese collaborations such as Raging Bull, Mean Streets, Goodfellas and Casino.

On top of the absorbing script, the stellar lead performance and the tense and precise direction is the cinematography courtesy of director of photography Michael Chapman. The man has done everything from Michael Jackson videos to Scorsese films to Steve Martin comedies but Taxi Driver remains such a perfectly photographed picture that it's hard to imagine that this is not the film he'll be forever remembered for (and yes, in terms of cinematography, Taxi Driver is above Raging Bull which Chapman also shot). It's been said, and rightfully so, that New York City is as important a character in the film as any of the people who show up in front of the camera and that's very true. Chapman more or less just let his camera go, capturing the reality of the New York of the era, and as such what we're left with is a very realistic feeling picture that gives us a fly-on-the-wall look at the flat out scuzziness of the area where Bickle works his beat. This, in turn, makes Bickle's inevitable downward spiral all the more understandable.

With big names like De Niro, Scorsese and Schrader dominating the credits, it would be easy to look past the supporting cast that makes Taxi Driver the masterpiece that it is. Cybill Shepherd is absolutely beautiful as Betsy, she's as charming as she should be and her character exudes a certain unattainable sexiness that someone like Travis Bickle will never be able to acquire, lending her character enough unattainable sex appeal to work. It's obvious that Travis and Betsey are from two very different worlds, and it's even more obvious that despite his best intentions, they don't have a chance at making it work despite her honest intentions at the beginning of their brief relationship. Throw the smart-ass Tom, as played perfectly by the smug Albert Brooks, into the mix and you can see that when Bickle tries to enter Betsey's world he's really just jumping into a deep end he'll never be able to swim out of. Travis' knowledge of politics and world events is blunt (see the quote below) and far too obvious for the politicos he's found himself interacting with to ever really understand. He represents the every man while they represent an administration more interested in conquest than problem solving.

Other supporting actors - like the late, great Peter Boyle, who plays Wizard, and even director Scorsese himself, who plays the disgruntled husband with the gun in the back of Bickle's cab - all deserve credit for joining together to assemble a fantastic cast of bit part players who simply add to the realistic nihilism of the film. Harvey Keitel, as Iris' pimp, Sport, stands out in his all too brief appearance while Foster turns in a fantastic and freakishly believable turn as the underage hooker who changes Bickle's stance on action versus complacency.

Last but not least, mention needs to be made of Bernard Herrmann's completely eerie score. The instrumental parts of the picture that fade in and out over various aspects of Bickle's story add an otherworldly tone to the picture. The music not only accentuates the more poignant aspects of the film as any good soundtrack should, but it also enhances the opening sequence and sets the tone right from the get-go.

More than three decades since it was made, Taxi Driver remains one of the most powerful and important pieces of filmed art to emerge out of American cinema of the 1970s. Its impact is still felt, the people who worked on it have gone on to become some of the most respected filmmakers in the land, and most importantly the film still packs one hell of a punch. New York might have been sanitized since the film was made but the story could easily be transplanted to whatever part of the world where there is strife and social unrest that you'd care to name. As such, the story remains timeless and the film still hits you like a punch in the gut. Odds are, that will never change making the picture as important and justifiably pissed off now and in the future as it ever has been.

Martin Scorsese's Taxi Driver remains one of the finest cinematic achievements of the 1970s and even now, three decades plus since it was made, the film has lost none of its power or relevancy. If anything, given the current political climate of the United States at the time of this writing, the film is just as poignant now as it has ever been. Not only is the film an allegorical piece on the issues that those returning from military service may or may not have to deal with but it also remains an interesting portrait of a socially ostracized and dangerous human being, something we've unfortunately never had any shortage of in the 'real world.'

For the three of you out there who haven't seen Taxi Driver, Robert De Niro plays Travis Bickle, a Viet Nam vet living in New York City who takes a job driving a cab at night. Travis is a loner, he's out there a bit as far as social skills are concerned and he just doesn't relate to the masses. He also sees the New York City he lives and works in as a cesspool, a sewer full of the worst that humanity has to offer. His occupation does nothing but reinforce this for him, as he is routinely forced to deal with junkies, whores and assholes - it's all part of the job.

Things look up for Travis when, seemingly by chance, he meets a beautiful woman named Betsy (Cybill Shepherd long before Moonlighting) who works for presidential hopeful, Charles Palantine (Leonard Harris). He's instantly attracted to her but their courtship soon becomes sour when they can't relate to one another. After Travis takes her to a 42nd St. porno theater on a date, she decides she wants nothing to do with him and the screws start to come loose upstairs for our hero. Shortly after, he runs into an underage prostitute named Iris (a young Jodie Foster) and they develop a strange relationship. Travis, after learning of her plight, takes it upon himself to do what he can to clean up the seedy side of the city, and American Cinema forever changed.

Mick Jagger once sang 'Go ahead, bite the Big Apple, don't mind the maggots.' Unfortunately not everyone can be as selective with their diet as Mick, and Taxi Driver is very much a movie for those people. Anyone who has ever spent a large portion of their time in the heart of an urban metropolis, be it New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, or even Toronto, has no doubt been witness to criminal activity. Whether it's drug dealing, prostitution or theft, crime and violence is to a certain extent a way of life in any major metropolitan area. De Niro, as Travis Bickle, represents that side of us that gets fed up with things. Granted, he's far from healthy - he is quite insane when it all comes down to it - but part of what gives Taxi Driver its power is that Travis Bickle lies inside so many normal, every day citizens.

Bickle is far from a model citizen. His obsession with pornography is probably quite unhealthy and it could very well be part of the reason he's unable to relate to women on what many of us would consider a normal level. He's obviously got a bit of a temper, which we see erupt by the time that the film finishes and there are moments in the film where it's made perfectly clear to us that Travis just 'doesn't get it' as far as other people are concerned. That said, despite what happens in the last twenty-minutes of the picture, is he really the bad guy? Is Travis completely at fault for what happens or is society? Has he been pushed too far? Is he a complete psychopath or, as he says, is he simply someone who stood up?

One of the most remarkable aspects of the picture is how completely alienated Scorsese and writer Paul Schrader were able to make De Niro's Bickle. While De Niro no doubt deserves much of the credit for his portrayal of the character, Scorsese was the one who ensured that the picture was cut the way that it was cut and who did such a phenomenal job of surrounding Bickle with the lowest of the low, the worst that society had to offer. As such, while we may not necessarily agree with Bickle's philosophy or his methods, we can at least to a certain extent understand why he does what he does, particularly after he meets Iris even if their introduction is under rather unusual circumstances.

Schrader, on the other hand, infuses so much of himself and where he was at during a certain point in his life that Bickle is, frighteningly enough, an extension of himself as he is anything else. What makes the character and the circumstances so believable is the fact that so many of us have been there - who hasn't had their heart broken? Who hasn't been attracted and subsequently dismissed by someone who just didn't click? We don't always choose the people in life that we meet, nor do we choose whom we're attracted to. Genetics and biology play a large part in that, a much bigger part than free will does. Can we blame Travis for falling for Betsy? She is quite beautiful, she's interesting and smart and funny and charming. Is it his fault that he's completely incompatible with her? Or is it simply fate, one of life's many injustices?

That said, as deeply personal as the script is and as very much infused with the pissed off enthusiasm of a young Scorsese the film is, De Niro (fresh off of his Academy Award winning performance from The Godfather II) really does make Travis Bickle the instantly recognizable cinematic icon that he is. According to Schrader, a few of the more infamous scenes, the mirror speech for example, where at least partially improvised by De Niro during the production and while he may have gone on to garbage like Meet The Fockers he will always deserve our respect and admiration for the challenging roles that made him the respected actor that he is, Taxi Driver being up there alongside other Scorsese collaborations such as Raging Bull, Mean Streets, Goodfellas and Casino.

On top of the absorbing script, the stellar lead performance and the tense and precise direction is the cinematography courtesy of director of photography Michael Chapman. The man has done everything from Michael Jackson videos to Scorsese films to Steve Martin comedies but Taxi Driver remains such a perfectly photographed picture that it's hard to imagine that this is not the film he'll be forever remembered for (and yes, in terms of cinematography, Taxi Driver is above Raging Bull which Chapman also shot). It's been said, and rightfully so, that New York City is as important a character in the film as any of the people who show up in front of the camera and that's very true. Chapman more or less just let his camera go, capturing the reality of the New York of the era, and as such what we're left with is a very realistic feeling picture that gives us a fly-on-the-wall look at the flat out scuzziness of the area where Bickle works his beat. This, in turn, makes Bickle's inevitable downward spiral all the more understandable.

With big names like De Niro, Scorsese and Schrader dominating the credits, it would be easy to look past the supporting cast that makes Taxi Driver the masterpiece that it is. Cybill Shepherd is absolutely beautiful as Betsy, she's as charming as she should be and her character exudes a certain unattainable sexiness that someone like Travis Bickle will never be able to acquire, lending her character enough unattainable sex appeal to work. It's obvious that Travis and Betsey are from two very different worlds, and it's even more obvious that despite his best intentions, they don't have a chance at making it work despite her honest intentions at the beginning of their brief relationship. Throw the smart-ass Tom, as played perfectly by the smug Albert Brooks, into the mix and you can see that when Bickle tries to enter Betsey's world he's really just jumping into a deep end he'll never be able to swim out of. Travis' knowledge of politics and world events is blunt (see the quote below) and far too obvious for the politicos he's found himself interacting with to ever really understand. He represents the every man while they represent an administration more interested in conquest than problem solving.

Other supporting actors - like the late, great Peter Boyle, who plays Wizard, and even director Scorsese himself, who plays the disgruntled husband with the gun in the back of Bickle's cab - all deserve credit for joining together to assemble a fantastic cast of bit part players who simply add to the realistic nihilism of the film. Harvey Keitel, as Iris' pimp, Sport, stands out in his all too brief appearance while Foster turns in a fantastic and freakishly believable turn as the underage hooker who changes Bickle's stance on action versus complacency.

Last but not least, mention needs to be made of Bernard Herrmann's completely eerie score. The instrumental parts of the picture that fade in and out over various aspects of Bickle's story add an otherworldly tone to the picture. The music not only accentuates the more poignant aspects of the film as any good soundtrack should, but it also enhances the opening sequence and sets the tone right from the get-go.

More than three decades since it was made, Taxi Driver remains one of the most powerful and important pieces of filmed art to emerge out of American cinema of the 1970s. Its impact is still felt, the people who worked on it have gone on to become some of the most respected filmmakers in the land, and most importantly the film still packs one hell of a punch. New York might have been sanitized since the film was made but the story could easily be transplanted to whatever part of the world where there is strife and social unrest that you'd care to name. As such, the story remains timeless and the film still hits you like a punch in the gut. Odds are, that will never change making the picture as important and justifiably pissed off now and in the future as it ever has been.

With the popularity of Bruce Lee and films like Five Fingers of Death (a.k.a. King Boxer) in the early 1970s, there was a flood of chop sockey cinema that was dumped in inner-city and Chinatown movies theaters all the way into the 80s. Produced by the legendary Shaw Brothers studio, The 36th Chamber of Shaolin was one of these countless films. It had been a huge hit in Hong Kong, before it was edited, dubbed and released in the United States under the title Master Killer. At the same time films like Master Killer were being played in double and triple and quadruple features at rundown theaters and drive-ins, local television stations were still airing feature films during the day on Saturdays. Many stations, including Channel 5 in New York, and Channel 12 in Portland, where I moved when I was in junior high, began showing kung fu films, including Master Killer.

Like so many others who had become fascinated with kung fu films in the 1970s, I watched Master Killer simply because it appeared, at least as first glance, to be more of the silly, asskicking entertainment that made up many of my Saturday afternoons. But the reality is that the film was very different from all the others I had seen, and was really the only one to make any sort of lasting impression. Years later, when I went back and started rewatching martial arts films, this was the film I wanted to see again. When I finally saw it as The 36th Chamber of Shaolin, probably a decade or more later, it was totally familiar, while at the same time a completely new experience.

The plot of 36th Chamber comes from the standard template of Hong Kong's cinema of vengeance. Gordon Liu stars as San Te (although his name at the beginning is Liu Yu-te), an unassuming student who witnesses the brutality of the Manchus as nefarious General Tien (Lo Lieh) kills a rival. This prompts Liu to become involved in the rebellion to overthrow, but the cost of his involvement is the massacre of his family. With nowhere else to go, Liu flees to the Shaolin Temple, hoping that the monks there will teach him the kung fu skills he needs to avenge his family. At the temple Liu is renamed San Te by the monks, and he eventually begins the difficult training that involves mastering all 35 chambers used to teach the Shaolin kung fu.

A standard element in many martial arts films was the obligatory "training" sequence where a student of questionable skills eventually learns to become a master. The 36th Chamber of Shaolin took this standard convention, and turned it into the foundation of the film's second act. Where a training sequence may have lasted somewhere around 10 minutes in another film, 36th Chamber uses the concept and turns it into a way of charting the growth of San Te's character. In scene after scene of some of the most memorable moments to grace Hong Kong cinema, San Te masters one chamber after another, quickly moving toward his goal of becoming a fighter who can take revenge for his family. But as he masters each skill involved with the individual chambers, San Te begins to grow as a person, profoundly influenced by the Buddhist teachings of the Shaolin monks. When he finally has moved through all the chambers, and passed his final test, San Te is given the opportunity to oversee the instruction at any of the 35 chambers. Instead, he asks to create a 36th chamber, one that can be used to teach kung fu outside the temple to everyday people, so that they may protect themselves from the tyrants who rule the land.

What is profound about The 36th Chamber of Shaolin is that while it follows many of the conventions established in other martial arts films, it moves beyond those standard trappings. In countless other movies San Te would have simply learned to fight and gotten his revenge. But director Liu Chia-Liang (a.k.a. Lau Kar-Leung) takes the genre to another level by developing San Te's consciousness along with his fighting skills. This is evidenced by the protagonist's journey from wanting to merely exact vengeance for the death of his family to his desire to teach others, so that they may protect themselves and fight against oppression.

The most popular heroes of martial arts films were always the flawed and the oppressed that grew into greatness through much trial and tribulation, despite their weakness. But at the same time, it was always difficult to find much depth or dimension within a majority of the martial arts heroes of Hong Kong films, especially as they played in the U.S., heavily edited and poorly dubbed. In making the journey to America, many films lost whatever heart and soul they may have had--if they had any in the first place. But no editing or poor dubbing was able to remove the heart and soul from 36th Chamber of Shaolin, and even as Master Killer, it emerged as a classic with the genre.

The Sergio Leone Anthology
MGM (distributed by Fox)
Color / 2:35 anamorphic widescreen
Street Date June 5, 2007 / 89.98; available separately at 26.98
Original Music Ennio Morricone
Directed by Sergio Leone

MGM Home Entertainment has enjoyed quite a run with the Sergio Leone United Artists westerns, which have always been near the top of their sales charts on VHS, Laserdisc and now DVD. Three of the four titles were released on DVD in 1999 in less-than-adequate encodings; The Good, The Bad and The Ugly was the subject of a 2004 Special Extended Edition. Later that same year MGM Home Entertainment commissioned double-disc special editions for the remaining three titles, and made plans to coordinate their release with a prestigious Sergio Leone exhibition at the Gene Autry Museum in Griffith Park. Finished by Christmas, the three new shows were scheduled for release in the summer of 2005. Then MGM was sold into the hands of a consortium and its home video distribution outsourced to Sony; all MGM releases were disrupted. A year later, MGM pulled its video distribution from Sony and relocated to 20th-Century Fox. Now, 2½ years after completion, the four-title Sergio Leone Anthology has finally arrived.

Region 2 viewers have already seen these special editions in PAL releases from 2005. The extras are mostly the same, but the audio options vary on some of the titles. More importantly, the R2 discs all run at the faster PAL speed of 25fps, which changes the tempo of the music tracks, makes the action look too clipped and pitches un-corrected voices just high enough to make grown men sound like chipmunks. As far as this reviewer is concerned, this set of R1 discs is the first really watchable release.

Beyond a synopsis and a few remarks, I'll limit my discussion of the first two "Dollars" titles to the new editions and refer readers unfamiliar with the films to the older review. As The Good, The Bad and the Ugly is unchanged from its Extended Edition release, it will be discussed even less. The newcomer to R1 DVD Duck You Sucker will receive more attention.

Fistful of Dollars
1964 / 100 min. / Per un pugno di dollari / available separately at 26.98
Starring Clint Eastwood, Marianne Koch, Gian Maria Volontè, Wolfgang Lukschy, Seighardt Rupp, Joe Egger, Aldo Sambrell, Mario Brega
Cinematography Massimo Dallamano
Art Direction Carlo Simi
Film Editor Roberto Cinquini, Alfonso Santacana
Written by A. Bonzzoni, Jaime Comas Gil, Victor Andrés Catena, Sergio Leone
Produced by Arrigo Colombo, Giorgio Papi

Synopsis: (Note: The plot, characters and even shots were plagiarized from Akira Kurosawa's Yojimbo.) Mysterious bounty hunter Joe (Clint Eastwood) finds a border town perfectly suited to his wicked brand of free enterprise. The Baxters and the Rojos are competing families of gun runners and smugglers, eager to wipe each other out. Joe hires himself to each clan in turn, collecting from both sides while gunning down their hired guns with carefree abandon. Joe frees concubine Marisol (Marianne Koch) to flee with her husband and child, but not before top kick Ramón Rojo (Gian Maria Volontè) discovers his subterfuge. Beaten to a pulp, Joe must face down the last half-dozen Rojo gunmen.

Fistful of Dollars (the on-screen title has no "A", despite MGM's ad copy) is an inexpensive movie. If this transfer looks less attractive than the others its partly because it wasn't as carefully photographed, and because of a lack of access to prime transfer elements. The transfer doesn't look bad overall, although one can still perceive a 'pulsing' quality in some scenes, especially shots in Joe's first gundown, the "my mule is upset" scene. Otherwise the enhanced transfer cleans up a great many flaws.

The first three films were originally monaural, although MGM has remixed them all in processed faux-stereo. One of the main complaints about the extended version of GBU is that the original mix had been augmented (many fans said defaced) with extra sound effects, and both dialogue and music were altered. Early suspicions about this new release centered on whether MGM would respect the integrity of the original films by retaining the original mono tracks. Happily, mono tracks are provided for the three new restorations. Fistful of Dollars has a Spanish mono as well.

Informed fans mention scenes present in some foreign versions but never seen in UA's export copy, including a scene of the Baxters sitting at the Rojo's dinner table. All of these films were customized for release in different countries. Some scenes were cut after initial engagements, or were perhaps set aside yet reinstated when local censors cut other scenes. When it's difficult to simply get a useable transfer element from a foreign producer, looking for variant versions is not always possible.

The extras feature actor Clint Eastwood and English Leone authority Sir Christopher Frayling. Frayling's entertaining commentaries and interview featurette (A New Kind of Hero) constitute a compressed history of everything related to the Leone cycle -- American and Italian film history, the story of the Italian film industry and detailed insights into practically every face we see on the screen. In the featurette A Few Weeks in Spain Eastwood tells the story of a serious actor who made good, due in no small part to his professional pride in his work. While other American actors abroad just read the lines, rode the horses and headed back to the nightclubs, Eastwood rewrote his own dialogue, kept his own script notes and then made sure it was recorded correctly in dubbing sessions. "The Man with No Name" thus comes off as the coolest gunslinger in history.

The featurette Tre Voci gathers the memories of producer Alberto Grimaldi, writer Sergio Donati and actor/dubbing director Mickey Knox. Also of interest is Donald Bruce's Location Comparisons that match film scenes with new photography of the same locations today. Some sets are completely gone but others remain intact.

Curious Leone fans will most want to see the Network Prologue that was added to Fistful of Dollars for its first prime-time TV showing in 1977. Thought long lost, the prologue was preserved by fan Howard Fridkin, who recorded it on one of the very first Betamax VCRs. On a separate extra, Not Ready for Prime Time, director Monte Hellman remembers directing the amusingly inept prologue, with actor Harry Dean Stanton and an unconvincing stand-in for Clint Eastwood.

For a Few Dollars More
1965 / 132 min. / Per qualche dollaro in più / available separately at 26.98
Starring Clint Eastwood, Lee Van Cleef, Gian Maria Volontè, Maria Krup, Luigi Pistilli, Klaus Kinski, Joseph Egger, Aldo Sanbrell
Cinematography Massimo Dallamano
Film Editor Adriana Novelli, Giorgio Serralonga, Eugenio Alabiso
Written by Luciano Vincenzoni, Fulvio Morsella, Sergio Leone
Produced by Alberto Grimaldi

Synopsis: Highly successful bounty hunter Manco (Clint Eastwood) crosses paths, and then joins forces with the aristocratic Colonel Mortimer (Lee Van Cleef). Both are after the notorious bandit El Indio (Gian Maria Volontè) and his pack of cutthroats, but they miscalculate when El Indio pulls off a spectacular daylight robbery of a heavily guarded bank. Mortimer and Manco pretend to join El Indio's gang, a ruse that doesn't last long.

More lavishly produced than the first film, For a Few Dollars More is perhaps the best-looking of the four titles on DVD, with brilliant colors and a clean image that belies its half-frame Techniscope origins. The quality can be traced to a complete overhaul of the movie by the restoration company Triage. Paul Rutan went back to the original Techniscope negative, enlarging and squeezing the image through optics much better than those used in 1965. In addition to a new Dolby 5.1 remix, this disc has original mono tracks in English, Spanish and French. MGM's 1999 release was flat letterboxed, with much of its audio track painfully out of sync, making the new disc a vast improvement.

Christopher Frayling and Clint Eastwood repeat their contributions in a reminiscence-filled featurette from the actor (Back for More) and a commentary and full featurette (A New Standard) from the educator/author. The Tre Voci trio also contribute more stories, especially about the hiring of star Lee Van Cleef. A second set of Location Comparisons is on board as well.

MGM's versions of For a Few Dollars More have taken criticism for not being 'complete,' because foreign tapes and TV presentations have extensions on a couple of scenes. MGM has a battered copy of a longer cut in which Manco and Mortimer are beaten by El Indio's thugs, but decided not to include it as it would not match the rest of the film in quality. Whether by accident or intention, the extended beating scene is no longer part of producer Alberto Grimaldi's original negative. On this new disc it can be seen in a Comparison featurette that shows a couple of other differences in the MGM copy, but is by no means comprehensive. This new feature restoration does retain the brief scene extension identifying Eastwood's character with the name 'Manco.' It was presumably snipped by UA in 1967 to maintain the 'Man with No Name' ad concept.

The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
1966 / , 161 min. / Il buono, il brutto, il cattivo / available separately at 26.98
Starring Clint Eastwood, Eli Wallach, Lee Van Cleef, Aldo Giuffre, Mario Brega, Luigi Pistilli
Cinematography Tonino Delli Colli
Production Design Carlo Simi
Film Editor Eugenio Alabiso, Nino Baragli
Written by Agenore Incrocci, Furio Scarpelli, Luciano Vincenzoni, Sergio Leone
Produced by Alberto Grimaldi

As stated above, The Good, The Bad and The Ugly is the same two-disc extended edition that can be read about in Savant's original review. For a splashy 2003 theatrical re-release the film was restored to most of its 1966 first-run length, re-inserting a number of Italian language scenes included only as an extra on the first 1999 disc. MGM and Alberto Grimaldi also restored a 'grotto' scene that never saw general release, but was finished and shown at the film's 1966 Rome premiere. The grotto scene became controversial mostly through the disapproval of the Leone family, as interpreted by various highly placed fans. MGM reinstated the scenes with the approval of the film's producer.

Less clear-cut is MGM's audio remix of GBU, which for the new theatrical release was expanded to fill the Dolby soundscape. Clint Eastwood and Eli Wallach returned to the recording studio to voice the new segments that had never before been dubbed into English. The loudest web objections are pointed at MGM's augmentation and replacement of key sound effects -- gunshots, cannon blasts -- to 'fill out' the new stereo track. Dissenting fans still have a reason to complain, as this new release still lacks an original (or mostly original) mono option in English. (It does have an Italian original mono track).

Sir Christopher Frayling was unavailable back when the extras for The Good, The Bad and The Ugly were created, and Richard Schickel provided a commentary instead. In 2004 Frayling recorded a full commentary for GBU with the idea that it could be added as an extra on a reissue. MGM has instead reissued the GBU discs unchanged.

Duck You Sucker
1971 / 157 154, 138, 120 min. / Giù la testa, A Fistful of Dynamite, I; était une fois ... la révolution / available separately at 26.98
Starring James Coburn, Rod Steiger, Maria Monti, Rik Battaglia, Romolo Valli, Antoine St-John, Vivienne Chandler, David Warbeck
Cinematography Giuseppe Ruzzolini
Art Direction Andrea Crisanti
Film Editor Nino Baragli
Written by Sergio Leone, Sergio Donati, Luciano Vincenzoni
Produced by Fulvio Morsella

Synopsis: Mexican peasant Juan Miranda (Rod Steiger) and his rag-tag group of boys rob and rape the decadent rich. When he meets expatriate Irish revolutionary and explosives expert John Mallory (James Coburn), Juan suggests a partnership to rob a fancy bank at Mesa Verde. Juan discovers only in mid-robbery that the bank is now being used as a political prison, and becomes an involuntary revolutionary overnight. But after the successful annihilation of an army commanded by mercenary officer Gunther Ruiz (Antoine St. John), the government forces capture and torture rebel leader Dr. Villega (Romolo Valli). The information he discloses leads to the slaughter of the rebel leadership and all of Juan's family. Only John knows that Villega is an informer, a fact he keeps to himself ... for he is haunted by guilty memories of his revolutionary experience in Ireland.

Duck You Sucker has been the least appreciated of Leone's films until fairly recently; this is its first appearance on DVD. Equally as slow as Once Upon a Time in The West, it represents a leap forward for the director. Leone not only tackles believable human relationships for the first time, he also has serious political ideas to communicate. It's interesting that he did not intend to direct the film or think it was a 'personal' effort, when his next signed picture thirteen years later Once Upon a Time in America continues in the same socio-political vein.

In America Duck You Sucker was chopped into bits for several reasons. Leone's previous Paramount release had been a box office failure and United Artists had no interest in another three-hour artistic western. They removed as much 'revolutionary' content as possible, trimmed some profanities here and there and then re-cut the show to speed up the slow scenes. The 160-minute picture was officially 138 for American release, but I know that in Los Angeles some prints were slashed to 120 minutes for second-runs.

The picture billboards Leone's graces and his faults. The enormous production is truly grandiose in the battle scenes, including an amazing night-for-night final battle. Thousands of costumed extras jam railroad stations. Throwaway glimpses through the windows of a railroad car reveal moving trains, mounted soldiers and hundreds of extras milling about. An awesome bridge detonation filmed in ultra slow motion sends boulder-sized rocks flying, as if a meteor had collided with the earth.

On the downside, Leone still undervalues the need for a coherent narrative. He ellipses huge sections of story while retaining extended 'atmosphere' scenes to showcase Ennio Morricone's sublime music score. As in Once Upon a Time in The West, the tale's central turning point is short-changed, giving us a Grindhouse impression of a reel gone missing. Both films play like four-hour two-parters that have been compromised. It's too bad that Leone couldn't create in the "episodic epic" form afforded Fritz Lang at Ufa, or Peter Jackson at New Line.

MGM's restored Duck You Sucker is based on Claver Salizzato's 1995 restoration of the Italian premiere version, which originally had a stereophonic track. The handsome transfer includes all known 'missing sections' of the film. A later French release excised the film's controversial final flashback entirely. It's the one scene that distinguishes this version from the 1997 MGM/Image Laserdisc that caused a great deal of excitement by upping the film's running time from 138 to 154 minutes. Salizzato's original stereo tracks could not be used because they had been mixed for the Italian language only. The 5.1 stereo heard here is another electronic reprocessing job; alternate tracks are provided in English, Spanish and French Mono. I've heard some alarms on the web that music cues in the film have been altered, but John Kirk says that he had no issues with the music and changed nothing. The web reports say that the music in the crucial 'entering the pub' flashback is different. I had no VHS source to check, but I did pull out both the 1990 and 1997 Image Laserdiscs to compare them with the new version. The music for that scene is the same on all of them. The confusion may be that the original soundtracks begin the music cue a bar or two earlier, with the series of heavier low notes.

This release also restores the film's proper title. The reissue compromise A Fistful of Dynamite has confused viewers for 35 years.

Sir Christopher Frayling really goes to town on his commentary and featurette (The Myth of Revolution), examining the film's relationship to the 1968 student rebellions and Leone's take on the then-popular revolutionary movement in European films. The film makes a strong statement against colonial oppression and Fascism but refuses to side with the Leftist, 'committed' Italian filmmakers. Leone drops his cynical detachment and instead places humanitarian sentiments ahead of Revolution, honoring family and faith as higher values. Duck You Sucker is his most mature film.

Sergio Donati speaks about his experience on the film, which seems to have been clouded by Leone's covert use of multiple writers and his terrible treatment of Eli Wallach, who was cast as Juan Miranda but kept waiting even after UA had replaced him with Rod Steiger. Restoration Italian Style features former MGM special projects director John Kirk talking about his work to reassemble the long version, and Donald Bruce's Location Comparison travels from Spain to Ireland in search of filming sites. Note that the church dynamited by John Mallory is the same building used as a hideout by El Indio in For a Few Dollars More.

The Autry Exhibit was meant as a tie-in for the world-class Leone museum show curated by Christopher Frayling and Estela Chung. The featurette saw some use on the Autry website but its 'coming soon' message is a little late, as the exhibit closed in late 2005. We do get a good look at some nice posters and memorabilia.

Sorting Out the Versions uses graphics, clips from old transfers and unpublished stills to illustrate various excised scenes. Savant related most of this information in a 1998 Savant article that's been updated several times over the years. Versions then proceeds to argue for a new interpretation of Duck You Sucker based on questions raised by the full-length cut: Who is the real 'Sean'? Who betrayed who back in Ireland? *

The Sergio Leone Anthology comes in an attractive but somewhat unwieldy package. A foldout holds eight DVDs in stacks of two, which means that to find a desired disc one needs a couple of feet of clean counter space to unfurl the whole thing. A booklet contains liner notes that don't always agree with information in Christopher Frayling's extras. The disc menu design is okay, but both MGM and Fox insist on loading up the menus and featurettes with redundant logos, which become trying when watching several extras at any one time. Each title comes with a selection of trailers and radio spots.

In a few weeks Warner Home Video will release the American version of The Colossus of Rhodes, and all of director Sergio Leone's signed feature films will be available on DVD.

On a scale of Excellent, Good, Fair, and Poor, The Sergio Leone Anthology rates:
Movies: Excellent
Video: Excellent, Fistful of Dollars: Very Good
Sound: Excellent, with reservations (see above) on The Good, The Bad and The Ugly
Packaging: Eight discs in card and plastic holder in card sleeve.
Reviewed: June 2, 2007

* Footnote: Savant disclaimer: I worked on the extras for all four special editions, which makes this review more informed than some but obviously not as objective. In the interest of full disclosure, and for those not familiar with my background, I worked at MGM Home Video in the 1990s and initiated studio interest in amending The Good, The Bad and The Ugly with its Italian-only scenes. I also interceded to make sure that the 30-second version of the final flashback on Duck You Sucker was not left off of the 1997 Laser release. The disc extras relied heavily on the generous help of collectors with much more knowledge of Sergio Leone, notably Bill Shaffer, Lee Broughton, Jim Wynorski, Tom Betts, Donald Bruce, Ulrich Angersbach, Ulrich P. Bruckner and Howard Fridkin. I am grateful for John Kirk's support in convincing MGM to officially change the disliked title Fistful of Dynamite back to Duck You Sucker, which once again restores the film's final 'joke'. And Gary Teetzel steered our attention to the Autry Museum's planned Leone exhibit, which helped raise awareness at MGM that these films are more than 'spaghetti westerns.'

WARNING: MILD SPOILERS AHEAD!

Our first introduction is to young Princess Moanna, who flees her underworld kingdom for a life above ground. Her memory is erased by the sunlight, so the Princess' life is carried out with no knowledge of her true identity; after her death, it's hinted that Moanna will return to her kingdom in another life. Immediately following this prologue, we're taken to the central atmosphere of Pan's Labyrinth: Spain circa 1944, after the last gasps of a civil war. We're now introduced to Ofelia, a young girl with a penchant for fairy tales. After the death of her father, Ofelia and her pregnant mother travel to the home of Captain Vidal, their new stepfather and husband.

Along the way, Ofelia encounters an insect-like creature that follows them to their new home. The creature appears to only make itself known to the young girl, who believes she's encountered a fairy straight from her storybooks. He leads her to a labyrinth in the immediate vicinity of the Captain's land, where she encounters a faun who believes that young Ofelia is the reincarnation of Princess Moanna. She's given three quests to prove herself, each one involving fantastic (and, in some cases, horrifying) creatures or difficult moral challenges. She often escapes to this dream-like world, always willingly.

The film's balance, of course, is maintained by the striking real-world backdrop of civil war and the violence in its wake. Captain Vidal is a fascist who hoards food and medical supplies to flush out local Republican rebels, lording over the landscape as the film's most easily-identified villain. His penchant for cold-blooded judgment and torture are sharply revealed in several stages, from the brutal killing of innocent farmers to the physical demolition of an imprisoned rebel. Vidal is the true monster of Pan's Labyrinth, mirroring The Big Bad Wolf and a plethora of beasts from classic fairy tales. He rules over the house with an iron fist, carefully watching the moves of Ofelia, her mother and the hired help. It's no surprise, then, that the young girl often feels more comfortable in a world of fantasy.

END OF SPOILERS

These two worlds are blended seamlessly, both in a technical sense and a spiritual one. Del Toro frequently employs careful vertical wipes---made to resemble the turning of pages, according to the director's commentary---to coax us into making subtle connections between Vidal's homestead and the mystical labyrinth. His deliberate use of color is another telling giveaway, contrasting the increasingly cold reality of Ofelia's life with the surreal warmth of her fantasy world. The film's solid production design also anchors Pan's Labyrinth nicely, from detailed and carefully-framed sets to amazing costume design and practical effects. It's literally a feast for the eyes...but as mentioned before, it's got plenty of substance to back up the style.

That's all the small talk you'll really need, as Pan's Labyrinth is truly a film that speaks for itself. Those who've already seen Del Toro's earlier companion piece, The Devil's Backbone, will notice a more polished and refined approach taken by the Mexican director, while those new to his work are in for a pleasant surprise. It's been a while since a film really grabbed me the way Pan's Labyrinth did the first time through, and it doesn't look as if repeated viewings will weaken its effect. In all respects, those who appreciate detailed, well-rendered fantasy films will find plenty to enjoy.

Final Thoughts
Lush and immersive, Pan's Labyrinth is truly a film to get lost in. Skillfully blending equal parts fantasy and horror, the cold and warm corners of our young protagonist's world are well-rendered and striking. It's almost disarming in its simplicity, yet subtle layers lurk underneath for those who enjoy digging. In all respects, this is a truly amazing work of art and worthy of its multiple Oscar wins and nominations...

It seems rather strange that a film nearly six hours long could be this good. Yet, the story of Marco Giordana's ambitious La Meglio Gioventu a.k.a The Best of Youth (2003) is so rich it feels as if another six hours could have been easily added up. A project of paramount proportions La Meglio Gioventu follows two brothers, Nicola Carati (Luigi Lo Cascio) and Matteo Carati (Alessio Boni), through the turbulent history of Italy from the early 1960s all the way to 2000.

Formally divided into two parts La Meglio Gioventu touches upon a number of crucial for the history of Italy events: the disastrous flooding in Florence, the peak of the Red Brigades, the assassination of Judge Giovanni Falcone, the restructuring of the Italian automotive giant FIAT, and the student riots from the late 1970s. Indeed, this film has a very complicated structure which makes it almost impossible to describe in detail without disrupting the rhythm of what appears to be a classic Italian tale of love and friendship.

The foundation of La Meglio Gioventu is built around the struggle of the Carati brothers to find their way in life. Nicola, the more ambitious and dedicated one, becomes a doctor while undergoing a number of life-changing events leading him to an interesting relationship with a woman involved with the notorious Red Brigades. Matteo, a man with an uncanny passion for discipline, becomes a police officer only so he could discover that his heart is unable to tolerate the social ordinance of the Italian state.

Originally intended for Italian television La Meglio Gioventu offers much more than an engaging storytelling. It offers a look at the very core of the Italian society and a number of events that shaped its socio-political structure. Interestingly enough the film never really evolves into a boring collage of political affairs wrapped around with an overly-sentimental script. On the contrary, La Meglio Gioventu remains a profoundly intimate experience with an unusually rich storyline.

I see plenty of influences in Marco Giordana's film which lead back to some classic and some more recent Italian productions. The director's colorful camera work complimented by a truly timeless soundtrack implies familiarity with Bernardo Bertolucci's films about social unrest. Both Partner (1968) and his more recent The Dreamers (2003) are easily comparable to La Meglio Gioventu. I also detect in La Meglio Gioventu the suffocating sense of political paranoia which Marco Bellocchio was able to recreate beautifully in his films (the recent Buongiorno Notte (2003) about the kidnapping of Italian President Aldo Moro is a perfect example). Last but not least drawing parallels between Giuseppe Tornatore's elegant Cinema Paradiso (1989) and La Melgio Gioventu is almost inevitable; the two films most certainly offer the magic that classic pictures are made of.

It took some time for American distributors to acquire La Meglio Gioventu. In fact, in 2005 I nearly lost any hope that a local company will step up and distribute this film nationally. The delicate nature of La Meglio Gioventu, and precisely the fact that the film runs at almost 370 minutes, pretty much guaranteed the financially-dreadful stamp "art-house feature". Allow me to disagree with any such insulting evaluations: not only is La Meglio Gioventu one of the best family dramas you are likely to see it is quite possibly one of the most beautiful European films to be distributed in North America in a long, very long time.

Awards/ Recognition: La Meglio Gioventu is the winner of the Un Certain Regard Award (Marco Giordana) at the Cannes Film Festival (2003); winner of the David Di Donatello Awards for Best Director (Marco Giordana), Best Editing (Roberto Missiroli), Best Film, Best Producer (Angelo Barbagallo), Best Screenplay (Sandro Petraglia/ Stefano Rulli), Best Sound (Fulgenzio Ceccon); the Audience Award for Best Film at the Rotterdam International Film Festival (2004); and the granted by the Seattle International Film Festival Golden Needle Award for Best Director (2004) among many others...

Final Thoughts: Lyrical, beautiful to watch, intelligent, without a doubt a film conveying the timeless allure of Italian cinema La Meglio Gioventu is not to be missed...HIGHLY RECOMMENDED!!

This is a juicy concept with plenty of opportunity for cat-and-mouse thrills. The first Infernal Affairs from 2002 certainly delivers on that promise, but also goes above and beyond in its attention to fantastically rich psychological depth and the personal relationships of the characters. Each man is conflicted in his duties, struggling to understand and assert his own identity in light of what he must do for his job. Each must face a distinct moral dilemma and decide who he really wants to be. Do the ends truly justify the means? Is redemption possible for a person who has done so many terrible things to achieve a goal he isn't even sure he believes in anymore?

Infernal Affairs is a tightly written and directed movie that packs a lot of substance into its 100-minute length. It has hardly a single wasted or extraneous moment. It has excitement and suspense, rich character development, terrific acting from a large cast, and manages to guide the audience through a labyrinthine and complex plot while developing strong attachments to even minor characters. Its tragic, ironic climax has deep emotional resonance, though unfortunately a last-minute tacked-on ending is something of a cop-out and the movie would have closed stronger if the credits came up a couple of minutes earlier. Despite this minor flaw, however, it is one of the best movies to ever come out of the Hong Kong film industry. The picture was a blockbuster hit throughout Asia, won countless local awards, and spawned two back-to-back sequels the following year of 2003.

If it seems like the first movie should be a self-contained entity with no room for a sequel, Infernal Affairs II proves just how ambitiously filmmakers Andrew Lau (not related to the actor) and Alan Mak really set their sights. Taking a cue from The Godfather Part II, the directors retraced their characters' steps by staging the second movie as a prequel depicting the recruitment and early careers of the teenage Yan and Ming. Almost the entire original cast returns, with the exception of Leung and Lau, whose characters are played by the same younger actors used in the first picture's flashback scenes.

Far from the redundant cash-in it might have been, Infernal Affairs II tells an engrossing story that adds further depth to the events of the first movie by showing us the scope of the backstory leading up to them. With this entry, Infernal Affairs becomes more than just a crime drama; it's a true epic of honor, loyalty, morality, and family. Given a chance to shine here are the father-figures from the first film of triad boss Sam (Eric Tsang) and Inspector Wong (Anthony Wong), whose complicated relationship was hinted at but not fully revealed the first time around. The prequel is longer and a bit messier than the original, with a lot of new characters and a jumpy structure that can be confusing on first viewing. The two teenage leads also look a lot alike, which can be disorienting. On the other hand, it has several genuinely powerful, operatic story arcs and a number of shocking twists. It's a worthy follow-up that both builds off and adds to its predecessor, and was another big critical and commercial success.

Tony Leung and Andy Lau return in Infernal Affairs III. The most complexly structured of the three movies, the final entry serves as both a direct sequel to the first movie, its primary storyline picking up a few months after the original's climax, and a between-quel with a number of flashbacks that take place after the events depicted in part II but before those of part I. Having successfully kept his identity and motives a secret, Ming finds his life falling apart as he deals with the fallout of his previous actions. His wife has left him and the police department has moved him to a desk job as they sort out the investigation of his interaction with Yan. Eventually reassigned to Internal Affairs, Ming's first job is to dig out the other triad moles in the police force. Both out of his desire to do the right thing and a desperate need to cover his own ass, Ming hunts these men down and whacks them one by one until facing off against Inspector Yeung (Leon Lai from Heroic Duo), a man he is convinced was Sam's most important mole and will be the best target to pin his own crimes on.

For whatever reason, big movie trilogies rarely ever conclude on their strongest note. So it is with Infernal Affairs III, which while still a pretty good movie overall is unfortunately the least successful of the series. Most of the blame is due to the film's overly complicated structure, which jumps around too much for the viewer to ever get a firm handle on what's going on or to develop attachments to any one storyline. Although flashbacks allow most of the original cast to return in some capacity, the compelling characters of Sam and Wong are reduced to mere cameos and even Yan hardly has much to do here. Tony Leung doesn't seem particularly involved in the role, as if he'd lost interest, and worse his clean-shaven appearance (he must have shaved for another movie and not had time to grow out his straggly facial hair) makes him look older and creates a number of continuity errors with the events of the first movie. The film's plot has too many twists for its own good. The movie seems to have three or four different endings before finally drawing to a close, and the scene that does finally end the series was not the most effective choice.

What does work in Infernal Affairs III, however, is the continued evolution and breakdown of Ming's character, a man so obsessed with finding personal redemption that he loses sight of the true effects of his actions. The movie also has some clever reworking of the events from part I as we see the version of the story as Ming tells it. Part III even goes out of the way to fill in some of the unexplained gaps in the first movie, such as why Yan was wearing a cast early in the picture, why he was working in a stereo shop for one scene, and why he visits a psychiatrist. Perhaps not all of these details were necessary to explain, but by the time the trilogy is over it has a satisfying cohesion from one part to the next, and feels as though the entire story were elaborately mapped out in advance, unlike many other "trilogies" where one hit film is followed by two needless cash-in sequels.

The Infernal Affairs Trilogy may have some ups and downs, but the sum total of its achievement is a staggering artistic accomplishment. It's a bold and daring merger of police thriller, epic crime saga, and complex psychological drama that deserves to stand with such classics as the Godfather films, Goodfellas, or Michael Mann's Heat...