The Bishop's Wife (1947)

Henry Kosters' The Bishop's Wife is a Christmas movie that brings to the screen all of the stuff that Christmas should be about. David Niven plays Bishop Henry Brougham, a man of the cloth whose single-minded and so far unsuccessful attempt to raise money for a new cathedral has caused him to lose touch with his wife Julia (Loretta Young), his daughter Debby (Karolyn Grimes), and the people he is supposed to be serving. When the bishop prays for guidance, he's immediately visited by Dudley (Cary Grant), a man who claims to be an angel. Once the bishop is convinced of Dudley's heavenly origins, the bishop expects him to solve his troubles with the cathedral. But Dudley has a different mission. He's not the least bit concerned about the building of another church. He's come to save the Bishop's soul before it's too late. He's there to remind Bishop Brougham of the thing that he's forgotten. He's there to remind him that people are more important than buildings, and that his own family is more important than anything else.

Dudley goes about this in a most unusual way. He starts courting Julia. Soon, Julia is spending all of her time with Dudley, and Debby can't wait for him to come and tell her stories. Even the family dog prefers Dudley to Bishop Brougham. And why not? Dudley's handsome and charming and witty, and he knows everything. Bishop Brougham is worried and irritable and way too busy to tell stories or take Julia to dinner or spend time chatting with old friends. But not Dudley. He talks the Brougham's old friend, Professor Wutheridge (Monty Woolley) into finishing his long-promised history of Rome. He even talks the tight-fisted Mrs. Hamilton into giving all of her money to helping the poor. Eventually, the bishop sees that he, through his blind ambition, has almost lost the things he values most. He orders Dudley to leave, telling him that Julia means more to him than his life. Upon hearing that, Dudley departs, but not before telling Henry what a lucky man he is.

The Bishop's Wife is a wonderful, feel-good movie about rediscovering your true purpose in life, as well as what's really important. Cary Grant turns in a marvelous performance as Dudley, the angel. This is one of the first films to feature the post-war Cary Grant, who's performances are more measured and serious than the pre-war Grant. Loretta Young is as beautiful as ever as the titular character, who mourns for the old days when her husband was just a parish priest and they had fun together and friends among the common people. David Niven gives one of the finest performances of his career as the harried bishop who's lost his direction in life. This film was produced shortly after Niven's wife died in a senseless accident, and Niven's anger and guilt show through in his characterization of Bishop Brougham. But to me, the real star of this film is the incomparable Mothy Woolley, who steals every scene that he's in. Watch him as he struggles in vain to figure out how Dudley knows him. Observe his facial expressions in the wonderful scene where Dudley keeps magically refilling the professor's sherry glass. Woolley is priceless, as is James Gleason as the cheerful cabby, Sylvester, who ends up in a skating party with Dudley and Julia. And all of these wonderful actors come together to deliver the marvelous message that people are what Christmas is really all about. It's peace on earth, good will to all. That's a message we could all use a little more of in these times of uncertainty.

The Bishop's Wife is rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white and has a runtime of 109 minutes.

Miracle on 34th Street (1947)

Okay, now we're getting into familiar territory, aren't we. Tell me truthfully, now. Is there anyone who hasn't been living in a yurt in Outer Mongolia for their entire lives who doesn't know the plot of this film? (No offense to Outer Mongolians implied, really.) But, for the sake of the two or three people out there who haven't seen the movie, I'll fill you in. The rest of you will just have to bear with me. It's Thanksgiving Day. New York City. 1946. A man (Edmund Gwenn), portly, elderly, with a white beard and twinkly eyes shows up at the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade and agrees to stand in for an inebriated Santa Clause. Everyone is captivated by him, and he's hired to be Macy's store Santa for the Christmas season. There's only one problem. This gentleman, who has been living at an old-folks home on Long Island for a while now, claims that he really IS Santa Clause. The one and only Santa Clause. Says his name is Kris Kringle. Won't say how old he is. Says his next of kin are Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen...you know the rest. And he's a delight to everyone who meets him, including Susan Walker (Natalie Wood), daughter of Macy's parade organizer, Doris Walker (Maureen O'Hara). He boosts Macy's Christmas sales by telling customers where to go to find things that Macy's doesn't carry. At first, this shocks the management, but when delighted customers start spending more at Macy's, Kris gets a raise. Yes, everyone loves Kris. Everyone, that is, with the sole exception Mr. Sawyer (Porter Hall), the store's personnel manager. An amateur psychiatrist, he decides that Kris is delusional and dangerous and must be put away for everyone's safety. When Kris bops Sawyer on the head during an argument, Sawyer convinces Doris to have him taken to Bellevue for a psychiatric evaluation. Disheartened, Kris fails the test on purpose. Now it's up to Doris' neighbor and would-be suitor Fred Gailey (John Payne) to get Kris out of the Asylum. This leads to a hilarious court case, with Gailey using a branch of the US Government itself to prove his claim that Kris cannot be insane because he actually is who he claims to be - Santa Claus. And while all of this is going on, Fred is trying his best to woo the once-bitten-twice-shy Doris, and Kris is doing his best to convince both Doris and Susan that not only does Santa Clause exist but also that Kris is the real McCoy. Many "miracles" great and small occur during the course of the story, but none greater or more important than Doris and Susan finding out that they can believe in things that don't make any rational sense.

Miracle on 34th Street is a delightful Christmas movie that's all about the power of faith, the idea that sometimes you just have to believe in something even if it doesn't make sense to do so. The story is charming, just the kind of thing people need and want to see during the holiday season. Ed Gwenn is the perfect Santa Clause, portly, with his lovely white beard and his soft voice. He is the perfect embodiment of old St. Nick. In fact, he looks like he could have been the model for countless Coca Cola ads. Maureen O'Hara is great as the divorced single mother, trying to raise her daughter to be rational and level-headed. And eight-year-old Natalie Wood is utterly charming as little Susan, just learning how to believe in things that most children her age believe whole-heartedly. Most of the other characters are portrayed by Hollywood's stable of peerless character actors - something that seems to be missing in Hollywood these days. If there's one weak spot in the film, it's John Payne playing the would-be suitor. Leading men are terrible parts in films of this nature, because there's just not a lot you can do with them. He's handsome and he's smart and he's successful, but he doesn't get the great lines that the character actors or even Doris and Susan get, so he just sort of hangs around and helps to move the action forward, but he's not exactly memorable. On a trivia note, all of the footage or the parade was taken at the actual 1946 parade, in which Ed Gwenn was the official Santa Claus and performed all of the official duties associated with that position. Yes, that's really Gwenn addressing the crowd from the top of the marquee in front of Macy's.

There have been several remakes of Miracle on 34th Street, including a so-so made-for-TV version in 1974 with Sebastian Cabot, and a horrendous butchering of the story in 1994 starring Richard Attenborough. Best to avoid all of the remakes - they cannot compare to the original. Neither can the colorized versions that are widely available. To me, they look like those hand-tinted photographs from by-gone days. No black-and-white film should ever be colored. It's a travesty. Miracle on 34th Street was filmed in glorious black-and-white, and that's how it should be viewed. The film is rated G and it has a runtime of 96 minutes.

White Christmas (1954)

Yet another Christmas movie that starts in World War II, Michael Curtiz's White Christmas was the top grossing movie for 1954 and an instant holiday classic. A sort of a remake of Holiday Inn, it was supposed to reunite Bing Crosby and Fred Astaire, but Astaire turned down the part saying he had retired. The screenplay was then rewritten for Donald O'Conner, but when he dropped out, Danny Kaye was tapped for the film. The rest, as they say all too often, was movie history. The film follows the adventures of Bob Wallace (Crosby) and Phil Davis (Kaye), two song and dance men who hook up during the dark days of WWII and go on to become famous as directors and producers of their own variety show. After closing down their show for the Christmas holiday, Bob and Phil go to see a potential act for their show, the Haynes sisters, Betty (Rosemary Clooney) and her younger sister Judy (Vera-Ellen). Phil and Judy hit it off right from the start, but Bob and Betty need a little encouragement, so Phil wrangles Bob into joining the girls in Vermont, where they're performing at the Columbia Inn. When they arrive at the inn, Bob and Phil discover that it's owned by their old commanding officer, General Tom Waverly (Dean Jagger). The boys are delighted to see him, until they find out from the receptionist, Emma (Mary Wickes), that the inn is losing money. See, it's not snowing. In Vermont. During ski season.

Well, Bob and Phil can't let an old pal from the army down, so they bring all of the cast and crew from their show to Vermont to rehearse over Christmas. But there are bigger problems brewing. General Waverly is feeling forgotten. After all, he's a general, one of the men who won the greatest war of all, an important leader, and he's stuck running a failing hotel and nightclub. So Bob and Phil come up with another great idea - they'll get as many men as they can find from the general's old division to come up to Vermont to show the general that he's not been forgotten. In the process of arranging all of this, though, Betty thinks Bob is going to use the general's hard-luck story to make a fortune for himself. Which he'd never do. But she won't listen to reason. After much misunderstanding and several testy moments, everybody gathers onstage to praise General Waverly. And as Bob and Betty and Phil and Judy sing "White Christmas," it starts to snow outside. The general is happy, the inn is saved, our two happy couples are headed for marital bliss, and everyone lives happily ever after, which is how a Christmas movie should end. Well, shouldn't it?

White Christmas holds a special place in my heart. I first saw the movie in December 1970, just a few months after my grandmother had died, and the film reminded me of her in some strange way. Maybe it was the set design, maybe it was the music by Irving Berlin, maybe it was the presence of actors who hailed from my grandmother's day. Whatever it was, this film became part of my mental backdrop against which my life has played out. That's what great films do. They seep inside of you and form a part of your subconscious metaphor of the world, the archetype against which you measure everything else in your life. I could have picked a lot worse movies to do this with. I mean, imagine if it had been Ed Wood's Plan 9 from Outer Space! But White Christmas is a fun, happy, carefree movie, another of those films that would be better termed a "holiday movie" than a "Christmas movie." It really has nothing to do with Christmas other than the time of year during which it is set. But who really cares about that. There's singing and dancing and beautiful sets and gorgeous costumes and wonderful music by Irving Berlin and its all wrapped up in a luscious widescreen technicolor package (called VistaVision) that will knock your socks off.

White Christmas is filmed in VistaVision and it has a runtime of 120 minutes.

The Man Who Came to Dinner (1942)

Okay, so maybe William Keighley's The Man Who Came to Dinner isn't exactly a "Christmas movie' per se, but it does take place at Christmas time, and it is a movie, so it fits in my book. Besides, it is also one of the most deliciously, wickedly funny movies ever made. Sheridan Whiteside (Monty Woolley) and his personal secretary, Maggie Cutler (Bette Davis) travel from New York City to Ohio for a dinner at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Stanley (Grant Mitchell and Billie Burke). As he is walking up the front steps, "Sherry" falls and injures his back. Much to Sherry's dismay, the doctor says that he must rest until he heals completely. In short order Sherry takes over the Stanley's home, ordering them about as if they were servants and generally wreaking havoc upon everyone who comes within his sights. When Maggie falls in love with Brett Jefferson (Richard Travis), the editor of the local paper, Sherry calls in his friend, the gorgeous actress Lorraine Sheldon ( Ann Sheridan), to lure Jefferson away from Maggie. When she discovers the plot, Maggie quits, leaving Sherry high and dry.

In a panic, Sherry calls on another actor, Beverly Carlton (Reginald Gardner), to drag Lorraine away from Jefferson. That plot fails, an infuriated Lorraine becomes more determined than ever to take Jefferson away from Maggie, and Maggie is more determined than ever to quit Sherry's employ. What's more, Mr. Stanley gets a court order evicting Sherry and his entire entourage in one hour. At the last moment, Sherry's old friend Banjo (Jimmy Durante) shows up and removes Lorraine from the picture in a fashion that I won't divulge. Sherry then turns the tables on the Stanleys when he discovers that Mr. Stanley's sister, Harriet (Ruth Vivian) is a notorious ax-murderer, a bit of knowledge the Stanley's are eager to suppress. Sherry blackmails the Stanleys into letting him stay a while longer. He also forces them to loosen their grip on their two children, who want to follow their own paths in life, not their parents'. When Sherry finally leaves, he takes with him the Stanleys' servants, who are more than eager to go with him. As he waves goodbye, Sherry slips on the ice yet again. You can guess the rest.

So what does any of this have to do with Christmas? Nothing whatsoever. Isn't that great? All of the madness simply takes place at Christmas time. In fact Sherry is forced to deliver his annual Christmas broadcast from the Stanleys' living room as his nurse and doctor attempt to herd a flock of penguins and a boys choir sings in the background. It's all madness and fun, and it's all Monty Woolley. Yes, Bette Davis may have gotten top billing, but this is Woolley's movie from start to finish. Davis plays second fiddle to him all the way through. And how could she not? I don't think anyone in movie history has gotten such great dialogue, with the possible exception of Groucho Marx. Referring to Harriet Stanley, Sherry declares, "She's right out of The Hound of the Baskervilles." When he hires the Stanley's servants from them, the Stanley's protest that they've been with them for year, to which Sherry retorts, "I'm commuting their sentence." And he refers to Maggie as "this aging debutante...[whom] I retain in my employ only because she is the sole support of her two-headed brother." But most of his acerbic wit is reserved for his nurse, poor Miss Preen (Mary Wickes in her first screen role). He tells her at one point, "Go in an read the life of Florence Nightingale and learn how unfitted you are to your chosen profession," and at another time he tells her, "My great aunt Jennifer ate a whole box of candy everyday of her life. She lived to be 102, and when she had been dead three days, she looked better than you do now." Face it, you just can't compete with lines like those, especially when you're playing a love-struck secretary.

Then only other character that even begins to compete with Sherry, is that of Banjo, who was based on Harpo Marx. Jimmy Durante has great fun with him. In fact, most of the characters in the movie were based on famous people. Sheridan Whiteside's character was based on noted film critic Alexander Woollcott, who was a good friend of the authors of the stage play, Moss Hart and George S. Kauffman. The character of Maggie Cutler was based on Algonquin Round Table member Dorothy Parker, Lorraine Sheldon was based on Gertrude Lawrence, and Beverly Carlton was based on Noel Coward. Even Harriet, Mr. Stanley's the ax-murdering sister, was based on a famous person - Lizzie Borden.

So, no, there's not a lot in this movie about Christmas. It's just a whole lot of fun, and it's a nice break during the chaos that occurs around Christmas. The Man Who Came to Dinner is rated G and has a runtime of 112 minutes. It is filmed in glorious black-and-white, of course.

We're No Angels (1955)

We're No Angels is one of my favorite Christmas movies. It's a film with escaped prisoners - thieves and murderers - who enter the store and home of the Ducatel family, intent on robbing and murdering them, but are instead reformed and redeemed by the spirit of the Christmas. It's also the only Christmas story I know of wherein two characters die and everybody's lives are made better by their passing. Odd, I know, but it all works in Michael Curtiz's little known-gem of a movie.

Joseph (Humphrey Bogart), Jules (Peter Ustinov) and Albert (Aldo Ray) have escaped from prison in French Guyana and made their way into the port city of Cayene. Jules picks the pocket of a young naval officer and finds only a letter addressed to Felix Ducatel (Leo G. Carroll). The trio decide to deliver the letter themselves in order to get a reward. Once at Felix's store, Joseph signs them on to repair the leaky roof. He reasons that after dark, the three of them can sneak down into the store, kill the Ducatel's and steal everything they need to escape. From the roof, they spy on the Ducatels and discover that Felix, his wife Amelie (Joan Bennett), and daughter Isabelle (Gloria Talbott) are in serious trouble. Felix went bankrupt back in Paris, and he was bailed out by his evil cousin Andre Trochard (Basil Rathbone). In return for the favor, Cousin Andre took everything Felix owned and sent him to French Guyana to run Andre's store. But Felix has a poor head for business, the store is losing money, and Cousin Andre is threatening to throw Felix out.

The letter that the convicts delivered to Felix reveals that Cousin Andre and his nephew Paul (John Baer) have arrived in Cayenne and are waiting in quarantine on the ship in the harbor. The only person who is thrilled by this news is Isabelle, who is in love with Paul. When she reads in the letter that Paul is to marry another woman for financial gain, she faints. The three desperate criminals rush to her aide. Albert and Jules carry Isabelle to her room, while Joseph - an embezzler and forger - begins looking over Felix's books. The trio begin to take pity on the Ducatels, who are nice people caught in a horrible situation, and they decide to make the Ducatels' Christmas just a little bit better. Joseph steals a Turkey for dinner, while Jules steals flowers from the governor's garden. They cook the Christmas dinner and decorate the house. They even clean up after dinner, the whole time claiming that they're going to kill and rob the Ducatels just as soon as they wash the dishes. After the Ducatels have gone to bed, Cousin Andre and Paul arrive, and the fun really begins.

Andre is the epitome of the wrench, grasping, money-grubbing miser. He has no time for sentiment - it has no cash value. All he cares about is the bottom line, and Felix's is underlined in red ink. Joseph does what he can to help hide Felix's poor business sense, while the others attempt - without much success - to play match-maker between Isabel and Paul. When Andre discovers that the inventory doesn't tally up, he threatens to have Felix arrested. Joseph, Jules and Albert decide that Cousin Andre has lived too long, so they hold a trial, find him guilty and sentence him to death. While they're trying to decide how to kill Andre, he takes Albert's only possession - a small wooden cage containing an extremely lethal viper named Adolph. What follows is one of the best scenes in the movie, as the three calmly try to decide who is going to rush in and tell Andre not to open the cage. By the time they decide, it's too late. That night Joseph forges a new will, dividing Andre's estate evenly between Paul and Felix, but Paul destroys the will in the morning. Without a will, Paul - as Andre's closest relative - will inherit the entire estate. As our trio tries to figure out what to do about Paul, he unexpectedly discovers Adolph lurking in one of Andre's pockets, and the Ducatels are minus another nasty relative. Joseph forges another will, leaving everything to Felix. Then the three of them play match-maker once again, fixing up Isabel with the handsome, young naval officer whose pocket they picked the day before. By the end, Isabel is in love, Felix and Amelie are wealthy, and Joseph, Jules and Albert are new men.

We're No Angels is a wonderful story of redemption. The spirit of Christmas works its magic on these three hardened criminals. At the beginning, they'll stop at nothing to escape from Devil's Island. By the end, they're doing everything in their power to help three complete strangers upon whom they have taken pity. Humphrey Bogart turns in a great performance as the forger Joseph, who was convicted of fraud for selling stock in an "air factory." Aldo Ray is great as the lusty Albert, who killed his uncle when he wouldn't loan him the money he needed to impress a young woman. Basil Rathbone turns in his standard performance as the cold, distant, unfeeling Andre Trochard. But it's Peter Ustinov that steals every scene he's in as the lovable Jules, who murdered his wife on Christmas day for "giving a friend a Christmas present."

We're No Angels is also one of the funniest movies I've ever seen. The humor is subtle though, the lines delivered in a dead-pan way that makes the jokes all the more funny. When Amelie asks Joseph if he can spare her a few minutes of his time, he replies, "A man condemned to life can always spare a few minutes." When Jules goes off to steal the flowers from the governor's garden, Albert reminds him not to step on the grass. "Of course I won't step on the grass," Jules tells him. "What do you take me for." And when Andre dies, Felix tells Joseph, "It's true I never liked my cousin, only because he was not likeable. He had a number of good points, I'm sure. I just can't think of any at the moment." There's also a great running gag with Jules opening locks by simply feeling the locked object and tapping it just right. And so it goes for the entire 108 minute runtime. So if you're looking for a fun, lighthearted, feel-good movie for the holiday, then I strongly suggest you check out We're No Angels. But be careful. You too might fall in love with these three hardened criminals.

We're No Angels is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor.

Holiday Inn (1942)

Oh yeah! It's Christmas movie time. And I decided to start out my pantheon of Christmas films with this little nugget from 1942. Mark Sandrich's Holiday Inn, starring Bing Crosby, Fred Astaire, and Marjorie Reynolds, with music by the great Irving Berlin. This film has it all folks. Singing, dancing and romance. It's the movie that first introduced the classic song White Christmas. It's the first movie I know of that deconstructs itself, pulling away the third wall, letting us see the actual sound stage on which the film is filmed while it is filming. And it's funny, with Crosby quipping such one-liners as, "Right now we've got the ledger in an iron lung." My fifteen-year-old daughter laughed her head off while watching it the other night. Unfortunately, it is also one of the most racist movies you will ever see, with Crosby and Reynolds performing in black face, and incomparable Louise Beavers forced to sing about how Abraham Lincoln "set the darkies free." Some of these scenes will literally set your teeth on edge. But bight down and bear through it. Remind yourself that performers like Beavers and Hattie McDaniel paid their dues and paved the road for the likes of Denzel Washington and Halle Barry. Besides, the rest of the film is worth the watching.

Jim Hardy (Crosby), Ted Hanover (Astaire) and Lila Dixon (Virginia Dale) are an entertaining trio, singing and dancing their lives away. But Ted wants to retire and live on a farm in Connecticut. Ted is engaged to Lila, who wants fame and fortune, so she decides to jilt Jim on Christmas Eve and stay with Ted. Jim goes off alone to live the good life on the farm. But farm living isn't all it's cracked up to be, and before the year is out Jim is in a sanitarium for his nerves. When he gets out, he's got a great idea for his farm. He'll turn it into Holiday Inn - a restaurant and dance hall that's only open on holidays. He hires up-and-coming singer and dancer Linda Mason (Reynolds) to perform with him, and the place opens to rave reviews on New Year's Eve. Unfortunately, Lila breaks off her engagement with Ted on New Year's Eve too, and a besotted Ted shows up at the inn, dances a fabulous number with Linda, before passing out cold on the dance floor. When he comes to the next morning, he remembers he found a great new dance partner, but he doesn't remember what she looked like. Now all of the pieces are on the board and the game is in motion. Ted tries to figure out who the mysterious dancing lady is, and Jim tries to foil his attempts at every turn. Once Ted learns that Linda is his "new partner," he tries everything in the world to get her away from Jim. In the end, Jim's own desperation causes him to sabotage Linda's opportunity to try out in front of a Hollywood talent scout, and she leaves Jim for Ted and Hollywood.

That's all I'm going to tell you about the story. If you want to see how it's all resolved and who wins the girl in the end, you're going to have to watch the movie. You won't be sorry you did. The dancing sequences are simply astounding. Astaire's Fourth of July dance alone makes the entire film worthwhile. Then there are the wonderful songs by Berlin, who truly was one of the greatest songwriters who ever lived. Listening to his music, it's easy to see why for the first half of the twentieth century popular music was jazz. And then there are all of the jokes and one-liners. Finally, there are the performances, all of which are first-rate. Walter Abel as Ted's agent Danny and Irving Bacon as Gus the driver almost steal the show from Crosby and Astaire. Trust me, if you like good movies, you're gonna love this film.

Holiday in is rated G. It's filmed in glorious black-and-white, and it has a runtime of 100 minutes.

The Triplets of Belleville (2003)

Let me say, right off the bat, that as a general rule I greatly dislike animated films, especially those of the Disney variety. That being said, however, every once and a while an animated film comes along and just knocks my socks off. Sylvain Chomet's The Triplets of Belleville is just such a film. It is so unlike anything that has been produced in this country for that last 30 or 40 years, and it puts the saccharin-soaked Disney stuff to shame. The film is not only entertaining, not only funny, it's also a visual feast. Every scene is packed so full of detail that it's tempting to stop the DVD so that you can take it all in. But don't do that. Let it run, and enjoy the ride. And I know that some people will be put off by the fact that this is another of those foreign films that you have to read. Not so. There is virtually no dialogue in the film. In fact, The Triplets of Belleville is just about the closest thing to a silent movie that has come out since Mel Brooks' Silent Movie. There's no language barrier to cross watching this movie; although, there are some cultural barriers. A lot of the characters that show up in the film are actually caricatures of real French people. But whether you know who they are or not, the movie is still great fun to watch.

The Triplets of Belleville tells the story of Madame Souza, who finds herself taking care of her grandson Champion. We're never told why or how she ended up with custody of Champion. She just has him. They live in a tall house far out in the French country side. Champion is a sad little boy. Madame Souza tries various ways of cheering him up. She even buys him a puppy, but soon the novelty wears off. Then Madame Souza discovers that Champion longs to race a bike in the Tour de France. She runs out and buys her little ward a tricycle, and he's in heaven. Fast forward many years. The city has encroached on the tiny house nearly knocking it over. The puppy - Bruno - has grown big and fat and lazy. And Champion is now a young man who spends all of his time training for the Tour de France, and Madame Souza is his coach and number one fan. As he peddles up and down the streets of their home town, she peddles along behind him on the old tricycle, panting out a beat through a whistle. After the ride, she massages his muscles, tunes his bike, and feeds him nutritious - albeit unappetizing - meals.

Finally, the day of the big race arrives. Champion pants his way through the Tour de France with all of the other athletes as crowds of fans line the raceway, cheering on the riders. Madame Souza and Bruno follow along behind Champion in their van ready to offer assistance when necessary. Suddenly, The Square Shoulder Men show up and disable the support van. While Madame Souza and her driver try to get the van back in the race, The Square Shoulder Men kidnap Champion and two other riders. They drive their hostages to Marseille, where they embark on a ship. Madame Souza and Bruno, arrive just as the chip is disappearing. The ever-resourceful old lady rents one of those little peddle-powered paddle boats and she and Bruno set out after the ship. Sometime later they arrive in the city of Belleville, looking an awful lot like New York City, complete with a bloated statue of liberty. Madame Souza and Bruno are befriended and taken in by three old ladies, The Triplets of Belleville, who used to have a jazz act that they performed many years ago. Their glory days gone, they live now in a run-down flat, surviving on frogs that they catch from a local swamp, and performing in a local restaurant. Madame Souza joins them in their act and bides her time. Meanwhile, The Square Shoulder Men have pressed Champion and his fellow cyclists into slavery, forcing them to peddle stationary bikes that control the movements of toy bikes on a miniature track. Mafia men from all over Belleville come to place bets on whose toy bicycle will reach the finish line first. But Madame Souza soon finds Champion, storms the Mafia hideout, and escapes with her grandson. All ends happily.

Okay, I know that doesn't sound very interesting when you write it out that way. But this film has got to be seen, has got to be experienced, in order to fully appreciate its charm and beauty. Note how everything in the background is tall and thin - buildings, bridges, boats. Note the cheering fans along the raceway - how well even these periphery characters are drawn. Note the fawning French waiters who look like they have no spines. Note how droll almost all of the characters are. Note the incredible detail that went into drawing every single scene. And this isn't a computer animation. This is animation done the old-fashioned way, by hand, with pen and ink and wash. And it shows in every frame. I love this movie. It is the antithesis of every thing that is cranked out by Disney and Pixar et al. The Triplets of Belleville is an animated film that doesn't insult your intelligence, that doesn't send you into a diabetic coma, that's truly enjoyable to watch.

The Triplets of Belleville is rated PG-13 (lots of shooting and killing during the final chase seen) and has a runtime of about 78 minutes.

The Trouble with Harry (1955)

The trouble with Harry Worp isn't so much that he's dead; it's that no one's quite sure how he died. Or who killed him. Captain Wiles (Edmund Gwenn) thinks he might have shot Harry. Jennifer Rogers (Shirley McClaine in her film debut) hit him over the head. So did Miss Gravely (Mildred Natwick). Sam Marlowe (John Forsythe), a local artist, stumbles upon the body, just as Captain Wiles is trying to drag him into the woods. Sam is sympathetic. He's even willing to help get rid of the corpus delicti. Shovels are procured. The digging begins. Soon Harry is safely tucked away underground. But not for long. When the good captain accounts for all of his bullets and realizes that he didn't shoot Harry, he insists they dig him back up. And so they do. Then Sam meets Jennifer, and it's love at first sight. Jennifer tells Sam that Harry was her husband. She's been trying to get away from him. He's been quite insistent that they stay together. While he was insisting his way into her house, she whacked him over the head, and he stumbled away. Jennifer thinks the hit on the head must have killed Harry. She thinks they should just put him back in the ground and forget about him. So Jennifer and Sam and Captain Wiles bury Harry again. Then Miss Gravely tells the captain that she thinks that she might have killed Harry. He stumbled toward her while she was hiking, grabbing at her, knocking her down. She pulled off her hiking boot and clubbed him over the head with it. She's worried that she killed Harry. She wants him dug back up so that she can go to the police. Sam decides that they need to find out exactly how Harry died first. So they dig him up, clean him up, and call the doctor. He'll tell them how Harry really died. I won't though.

The Trouble with Harry was one of director Alfred Hitchcock's favorite movies, and it's easy to see why. It's and absolutely delightful film; although, American audiences didn't feel that way in 1955. It received poor reviews here. Europe received it better. The film ran for a year in England and Italy, for a year and a half in France. This is not a fast-paced movie, filled with intrigue and chase scenes and shoot-outs and explosions. It's a deliberate film that takes its time unfolding its story. The Trouble with Harry is more about the characters than it is about the crime, and the characters are wonderful. Sam is a bohemian artist who doesn't give a fig for conventions. Captain Wiles talks of his life sailing the world when in fact he was merely a tug boat captain on the East River. Miss Gravely is a middle-aged spinster who proves that you're never too old to fall head-over-heels in love. And Jennifer is a quirky young mother who wants to live her life in her own way. All four of these are brought together over the corpse of Jennifer's husband. The Technicolor cinematography brings the beautiful New Hampshire countryside to life. Interestingly, after the long exterior shots were filmed, the weather turned bad, so the rest of the filming had to be done on a sound stage. The crew collected as many of the Autumn leaves as they could and shipped them back to Hollywood, where they were painstakingly glued onto artificial trees to capture the feel of a New Hampshire Autumn. If you're in the mood for a quirky, romantic murder mystery, this one should fill the bill. Call it a black comedy or a morbid romance. Either way, The Trouble with Harry is a great movie.

The Trouble with Harry is rated G. Running time is 99 minutes.

Man's Favorite Sport (1964)

When it comes to the great outdoors, no one knows more than Roger Willoughby (Rock Hudson). Willoughby is the country's premiere expert on outdoors sports. He work's for Abercrombie & Fitch (the original A&F that sold high-end sporting goods, not the modern teen fashion shack). He teaches customers how to camp and hunt. He's written a best-selling book about fishing. Willoughby is the go-to guy for anything to do with nature. There's only one slight problem. Willoughby has never set foot in the woods. He lives in San Francisco. He's never been camping, doesn't hunt, and can't fish. In fact, he couldn't tell a trout from a salmon if his life depended on it. But as long as he can keep up the pretense of knowing, he'll be fine. Or so he thinks. Enter Abigail Page (Paula Prentiss) and Easy Mueller (Maria Perschy). These two finagle Willoughby's boss, Mr. Cadwalader (John McGiver) into entering Willoughby in a fishing contest to drum up business for the store. Sure that willoughby can't possibly lose, Cadwalader informs his outdoors expert that he's going into the outdoors.

Willoughby knows, of course, that he can't fish. He confides in Abigail. She tells him not to worry, that she and Easy will go along and help him out. Unfortunately, it's hard to tell just which of the three is more inept in the woods. Willoughby arrives at the lake loaded for bear, and runs smack into John Screaming Eagle (Norman Alden) a wise-cracking Native American who tries to make a touch on Willoughby. From here, the antics really get going. Willoughby can't do anything right. He can't even set up a tent, so he stays in a cabin at the lodge instead. When he tries to fish, he gets his line tangled in the trees, snags dead branches in the water, and nearly drowns himself on several occasions. Abigail and Easy devise a way to get Willoughby out of the tournament by pretending that he's got a broken arm. Unfortunately, when the cast dries, he can't lower his arm. Abigail removes the cast with a skill saw! And right in the middle of the whole mess, Willoughby's fiance shows up from Texas, wanting to know what he's doing with Abigail and Easy.

The biggest shocker of all, though, is that Willoughby actually wins the tournament with no help at all. Of course, he didn't actually catch the fish. They more or less committed suicide, by jumping on his hook when the line was tangled in some branches, by getting caught in his waders when he fell in the water, and several other means that have nothing to do with fishing. Because of this, Willoughby feels he can't accept the trophy. It just wouldn't be sporting. So he confesses everything. Of course, Cadwalader fires him on the spot, much to the dismay of his best customers. They lobby for Willoughby's reinstatement. Cadwalader finally gives in. But where's Willoughby? And where's Abigail?

Howard Hawks' Man's Favorite Sport is one of my favorite movies. It's one of the last in a long line of screwball comedies that stretch all the way back tot he advent of talking film. The dialog is fast-paced and witty, and the situations that Willoughby finds himself in are hilarious. Rock Hudson puts in a solid performance as the beleaguered Roger Willoughby, but the true star of the show - in my opinion - is Paula Prentiss, who gives one of the best performances of her career. She does sexy and funny at the same time and pulls off both brilliantly. Most of the rest of the actors are simply caricatures who act as foils for Abigail and Willoughby. If you're looking for a movie that's lighthearted and just plain fun, I highly recommend Man's Favorite Sport. I first saw it forty-one years ago and fell in love with it. It hasn't lost any of its appeal since then. See if you don't agree.

Man's Favorite Sport is rated G and is filmed in Technicolor. Running time is 120 minutes.

Morning Glory (2010)

When Becky Fuller (Rachel McAdams) gets laid off from her job as the producer of a local TV morning show, she lands a new job as executive producer for "Daybreak," the lowest rated morning show on national TV. Becky has been tasked with improving the ratings of a show that's so bad that it's circling the drain, but the effusive Becky is undaunted. Her first act is to fire the shows arrogant anchor. Then she strong arms a reluctant Mike Pomeroy (Harrison Ford) into the vacant chair. Mike was once a world class reporter, but he's been sidelined by people with more showmanship. "Daybreak" is everything that Mike has come to loathe about TV news. He also loathes his co-anchor, Colleen Peck (Diane Keaton). The feeling is mutual. When the studio head, Jerry Barnes (Jeff Goldblum), informs Becky that she has only six weeks to raise the ratings or he'll cancel the show, she pulls out all of the stops. She sticks the weather reporter onto roller coasters and throws him out of airplanes, has Colleen playing with wild animals and dancing in a tutu, anything to raise the ratings. When Mike and Colleen start insulting each other on air, ratings begin to go up. Ever surly, Mike refuses every story that he concludes is "not news," until he finally scoops a story about the governor being indicted and manages to get to the governor's house just as the police are pulling up to arrest him. Becky is thrilled with Mike and tries to get him to do more human interest pieces, but Mike is still Mike, still hates the show he's being forced to do, and still refuses to do stories that are too fluffy. When Becky gets a job offer from "Good Morning America," though, the great Mike Pomeroy does an impromptu cooking lesson on national TV, to persuade her not to leave. He even uses the word "fluffy."

I gotta tell you, I was very hesitant about watching this film. I figured Morning Glory was just another rom-com. I couldn't have been more wrong. While there is a romance in the film, it's coincidental to the rest of the plot. The main focus is on Becky and Mike and how one person's faith in what they are doing can change another person's outlook on themselves and the world around them. Rachel MacAdams is wonderful as the over-enthusiastic, workaholic Becky, who runs circles around everyone else and gets her way because of her irrepressible joie de vie. Harrison Ford is perfect as the curmudgeonly Mike Pomeroy, a man who feels that his career has abandoned him and all that he held dear. He eventually succumbs to Becky's charm and enthusiasm, but - and this is what made the movie work for me - he doesn't become a whole new person. He remains a curmudgeon, only now he's a slightly less prickly one. Diane Keaton is great as the prima dona Colleen Peck, who catches Becky's spirit and throws her all into the program. And Jeff Goldblum plays Jerry Barnes as a cold, no-nonsense business man who needs to meet his ratings quotas. The show left me feeling good about myself, an odd thing for a movie to do, but it's true. When Morning Glory ended, I felt happy, upbeat and enthusiastic, like I could go out and accomplish anything. And that's a good thing for any film to do.

Morning Glory is rated PG-13 and is filmed in color.

Ninotchka (1939)

France, prior to World War II. Three Russian bureaucrats - Iranoff (Sig Ruman), Buljanoff (Felix Bressart) and Kopalski (Alexander Granach) - arrive in Paris. Their mission? To raise money for the Soviet Union by selling jewelry confiscated during the revolution. Only one problem. The original owner of the jewels - the Countess Swana (Ina Claire) - is in Paris also. And she's not happy about the Soviet Union selling what used to be hers. She sends her friend Leon (Melvyn Douglass) to stop them. So he does. With a law suit. While they wait for the legal process to run its course, Leon introduces Iranoff, Buljanoff and Kopalski to Parisian food, Parisian women and Parisian joi de vie. They're more than happy to wait on the Parisian legal system. But their boss, the cold and calculating Razinin (Bela Lugosi) is not so happy to wait. He sends Ninotchka (Greta Garbo), his best operative, to hurry the situation along. And here's where the movie really gets going. Ninotchka meets Leon by chance on the street. He becomes infatuated with her at once. "A Russian!" he says. "I love Russians." He follows her to the top of the Eiffel tower. There he suggests they return to his apartment. They make love - 1930s style - they talk, they embrace, the camera fades, you fill in the blanks. Then she discovers that he's the one who brought the law suit against the selling of the jewels. She quickly leaves. But Leon is not discouraged. He continues to pursue her. One day, he follows her to a little restaurant, where he attempts to amuse her. She's remains as stone faced as ever. Without any warning, his chair tips over and he crashes to the floor. Then the unthinkable happens - Garbo laughs.

Kids today might think this is no big deal. But in 1939? This was something to talk about. Garbo didn't laugh. She might smile. She might giggle - slightly. But she didn't laugh. Garbo was something that we simply do not have today. She was a screen presence. She was something ethereal, a person who didn't exist in the real world where mortals dwelt. She lived only on the silver screen in the darkened theater. She had a quality about her that is hard to define. It had always been there. She was already a legend when she made her fist talking movie, Anna Christie, in 1930. She remained a legend - and a mystery - until her death in 1990. She had many lovers, but never married. She was beloved by millions. When she died, France gave her a state funeral. On screen, she was matchless. She could show a panoply of emotions with the arch of one eye brow. Ninotchka was her first, and only, comedy. It was also her penultimate film. She was brilliant and funny, playing the foil for Melvyn Douglas, who was as humorous in his suave way as ever. Few actors have the ability to make you laugh just by standing there in a tuxedo. Douglas could. His face was so expressive that he could set an audience roaring with the twitch of his mouth. Of course, today we just don't get it. I guess we're too sophisticated. Now we have to have bathroom humor shoved into our faces in order to laugh. But 1939 was a simpler time.

Ninotchka was one of director Ernst Lubitcsh's three favorite movies. It's easy to see why. The film has a warmth to it, a kind of joy in it that doesn't appear often in movies. Every actor in the film is perfectly cast in their parts. The sets are gorgeous, the dialogue quick and witty, the screenplay brilliantly funny. Leon eventually wins the heart of Ninotchka. Then the jewels are sold, and Nonitchka, Iranoff, Buljanoff and Kopalski are sent back to Moscow. Leon's plan to get Ninotchka back is both clever and hilarious. Hollywood was very good at turning out "screwball comedies" back in the 1930s and 40s. Somewhere along the way, they lost their touch. We are less fortunate today for that loss. But we still have the classics to fall back on. Ninotchka is one of the best.

Ninotchka is rated G and is filmed in glorious black and white.

Under the Tuscan Sun (2003)

Under the Tuscan Sun is a film about redemption, the story of one woman's attempt to craft a new life out of the shattered remains of an old one. Frances (Diane Lane) has it all. Great writing career. Nice house. Adoring husband. Wait a sec. Scratch that last one. Husband's not quite so adoring. He's seeing another woman. He wants a divorce. He wants the nice house too, and he gets it. Frances' life begins spiralling downward, until her lesbian friend Pati (Sandra Oh) gives her an all expense paid tour of Italy. It's a gay and lesbian tour. Lucky Frances. She goes anyway, just to get away from her depressing apartment. While there, she sees an aged villa, soaking in the Tuscan sun, with FOR SALE sign out front. Something about the villa strikes her. Maybe it's the way the sunlight seems so golden there. Maybe it's the olive trees. Who knows? Anyway, she orders the bus to stop, gets off, and buys the villa. Thus begins her new life in Italy. She starts renovating the crumbling villa with the aid of a local builder, Nino (Massimo Sarchielli), and three Polish immigrants: Zbignew (Sasa Vulicevic), Jersey (Valentine Pelka), and Pawel (Pawel Szajda). While the construction progresses, Frances searches for love. First she explores the notion with her realtor, Martini (Vincente Riotta), but he's in love with his wife. Then she has a wild fling with Marcello (Raoul Bova), something of a playboy and a ladies man. That doesn't work out too well either. While this is going on, Pati shows up on her doorstep eight months pregnant and deserted by her partner. Frances also plays matchmaker for the young Pawel and Nino's daughter, Chiara (Giulia Steigerwalt). All along she gets advice on loving and living from Katherine (Lindsey Duncan), a former actress and protegee of Fellini. Eventually, the house is finished, Pati's baby is born, Pawel and Chiara get married, and Frances has become a part of the village, deeply involved with the lives of the people she's come to call her friends. In the end, she too will find love, but only when she stops looking for it. When she waits for it to find her. It always does, doesn't it?

Audrey Wells' Under the Tuscan Sun, is a gorgeous, romantic movie that's just plain fun to watch. The scenery is breathtaking and the cinematography takes full advantage of it. Each and every scene is played out against the stunning backdrop of the Tuscan countryside and the coast of Amalfi. Watching this movie will make you dream of Italy, the hot sun beating down on the golden hills, the dark cypresses standing like sentinels over the villas and villages, the ancient churches, the collision of old world and post modern. It's all here as a cyclorama to the touching story of one lonely woman searching for meaning in her life. And then there's the food. Under the Tuscan Sun loves Italian cuisine the way that Chocolat loved, well, chocolate. And the acting is superb. The film is filled with wonderful characters, from the jittery Jersy to the kind-hearted Martini to the vivacious Katherine, with her joie de vie and her stream of lovers. Oh! But this is a delicious film, and one that slipped by most viewers at multiplexes. Under the Tuscan Sun is a quiet movie about slowing down and engaging with the people and the world around you. You cannot help but be happy as you watch life and love unfold before your eyes under the Tuscan sun. I'm betting you'll wanna be there too.

Under the Tuscan Sun is rated PG-13 and is filmed in glorious color to bring to life the Italian countryside.

My Best Friend (2006)

Patrice Leconte's My Best Friend is a heart-warming movie starring Daniel Auteuil as Francois, an obnoxious art dealer who is denounced at a party by his business partner, Catherine (Julie Gayet). She tells him that she doesn't like him and that he has no true friends, and all of the other people at the party back her up. When he insists that he does indeed have a best friend, she challenges him to produce his friend. This sends Francois scurrying around Paris in search of someone who likes him. Sadly, he finds not a single soul willing to admit that they are his friend, except for a jovial, trivia spouting cab driver named Bruno (Danny Boon) that he keeps running into. Unbelievably, Bruno genuinely likes Francois, and goes out of his way to help him. Finally, Francois concocts a scheme to get Bruno to steel a priceless vase from his own apartment so that he can collect the insurance. Bruno agrees and sneaks into Francois' apartment, where he finds all of Francois' acquaintances waiting in the dark. Francois turns on the lights and introduces Bruno as such a true friend that he would even be willing to steal for him. When Bruno realizes that Francois was only using him, he smashes the vase and storms out. Francois has lost the bet. Later, Bruno wins a spot on the French version of Who Wants To Be a Millionaire. When a question about art comes up that Bruno doesn't know the answer to, he is faced with a dilemma. Should he guess and risk losing, or should he turn to Francois as his "lifeline"?

Think you know the answer? Don't bet on it. If this was an American movie, I could tell you without even seeing it exactly how the film would end. Bruno would and Francois would make up, Bruno would win millions of dollars, and the two would retire to a tropical island together, surrounded by beautiful women, where they would live happily ever after. But French movies don't follow the same predictable patterns that American films invariably follow, and that's one of the reasons I love watching them. French filmmakers seem to understand that real life seldom has a true happily ever after to it. My Best Friend ends, as most French comedies do, on something of a bittersweet note. But, in my humble opinion, it's a richly satisfying one.

My Best Friend is rated PG-13 and is available in French with English subtitles.