CINEMANIA:

Chimes at Midnight  (USA, 1967, Orson Welles)

William Shakespeare's history plays, often overlooked by filmmakers, provide the basis of Orson Welles' adaptation of several of the Bard's works, including Henry IV, Parts 1 and 2, Henry V, Richard III, and The Merry Wives of Windsor. 

That's right: Welles condenses five of Shakespeare's great plays into less than two hours. 

The one character uniting all these works is the loquacious, rambunctious, drunken Falstaff, played by Welles himself. Images of quiet melancholy and decay give way to a fiery film, full of the fury of betrayal as Falstaff's influence on young Prince Hal threatens the integrity of the monarchy.

Scarface (USA, 1932, Howard Hawks)

Scarface is a potent, uncompromising portrait of the gangster life. While journalists often romanticized them, and many in the public made mobsters into folk heroes, director Howard Hawks' portrayal of the brutish and ambitious Capone-inspired titular character, played with terrific ferocity by Paul Muni (this movie made him a star, and it is easy to see why) is brutal and stark.

Time Bandits (UK, 1981, Terry Gilliam)

Terry Gilliam's 1981 children's fantasy film is a curious mixture of adventure, farce, and satire that is intermittently entertaining -- if occasionally eccentric to a fault. 

With a camera perched at knee level, Time Bandits is told from a child's point-of-view, but rather than adopting a sickeningly sweet sentimentality, Gilliam opts for an acerbic and often nasty tone that risked offending the very audience at which it purported to be aimed.

To Kill a Mockingbird (USA, 1962, Robert Mulligan)

Robert Mulligan's lovingly crafted recreation of Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize- winning novel is an outstanding production on many different levels. 

The Oscar-winning sets by Henry Bumstead and Alexander Golitzen, and gorgeous black-and-white cinematography beautifully evoke the rural Alabama Depression-era setting, providing the perfect backdrop for this quiet-yet-potent study of racism.

Kagemusha (Japan, 1980, Akira Kurosawa)

Kagemusha is an atypical entry in the canon of Akira Kurosawa, the master of the samurai epic. At the time of the film's making, Kurosawa was gradually losing his eyesight, and his films were developing an increasingly impressive visual splendor. However, in Kagemusha, the action sequences are much less thrilling than in Kurosawa's other samurai epics. Here his focus is on character development and philosophical discourse.

Stardust Memories (USA, 1980, Woody Allen)

Woody Allen's altar is the art of filmmaking, and Stardust Memories is his crisis of faith. 

Allen has always used his art to shape and make sense of his reality, but as the film begins, he wonders if he is washed up, an empty vessel, with nothing left to offer that will help ease the suffering in the world.

Jean de Florette (France, 1986, Claude Berri)

The plot of Jean de Florette is as melodramatic as any soap opera, but its treatment is just a little askew, just off-center enough for the film to evolve into a moving and powerful pastoral tragedy. 

The film is a naturalistic story about the dehumanizing effect of greed on a community and on the human soul.

The Pawnbroker (USA, 1964, Sidney Lumet)

The Pawnbroker is a powerful, moody film notable for a great performance by Rod Steiger in the title role and taut direction by Sidney Lumet. 

Lumet knows his way around New York, and his use of French New Wave techniques gives the film a vibrancy and urgency that complement the story.

Prizzi’s Honor (USA, 1985, John Huston)

This wickedly post-modern gangster film about a dull-witted Mafia hitman who falls for a slightly smarter version of himself is distinguished by the bleakly comic dialogue by Janet Roach, an exquisitely droll performance by Angelica Huston, and an amusingly gravelly-voiced turn by William Hickey as a deceptively vicious don.

Harvey (USA, 1950, Henry Koster)

Harvey turns on the charming premise that a person would have to be crazy to be as consistently cheerful and optimistic as Elwood P. Dowd. James Stewart, who was nominated for an Academy Award for his finely tuned comic turn in this film, is relentlessly generous and sweet as the man whose best buddy is an invisible 6' 3 1/2" rabbit. 

Though at times slow and obvious, the film allows humor to emerge ever so gently at the expense of its targets.