"Footlight Parade" (1933)

If you had to describe to someone exactly what the wacky talent of famed musical director Busby Berkely was, you could show them this eye popping movie. It's a textbook example of his outlandish signature choreography, so over-the-top bizarro, you're still smiling while your jaw is dropping at the same time. Though Berkely didn't direct the whole picture--that credit goes to Lloyd Bacon--he did conceive and execute the three boffo musical numbers that finish the picture, essentially putting him on the Hollywood map as the master of Hollywood razzmatazz. James Cagney, in a role that could be Berkely himself, is the feisty empresario who creates live musical prologues for the big movie houses of the day (things were still in transition from Vaudeville). He's a manic genius who runs himself ragged coming up with more and more crazy numbers to top himself. He's so crazed for his craft that he overlooks the affections of his girl Friday, the always likable Everygirl Joan Blondell. Things race to the finale and those three musical set pieces ("Honeymoon Hotel", "By the Waterfall", and "Shanghai Lil") that have to be seen to be believed. All three are set to Tin Pan Alley tunes that bore into your brain like an earwig, just try and forget them the day after. With chorus girls and boys by the dozen, kaleidoscopic camera work, a water ballet that beats anything Esther Williams did by a decade, and some racy Pre-Code titillation, do yourself a favor and catch this one.

"The Thin Man" (1934)

Who'd have thought you could mash up the murder mystery detective story with the screwball comedy? Director W.S.Van Dyke pulled off this highwire act beautifully in this effervescent adaptation of Dashiell Hammett's last novel. To be sure, all the best ingredients are fully present in the source material. Nick and Nora Charles are the witty, wealthy, and stylish society couple who find themselves embroiled in a Manhattan whodunnit when the secretary of a mysterious scientist turns up dead and his daughter appeals to their crime fighting curiosity to find the killer (and her missing dad).  The fun is in the zippy execution as the red herrings, plot twists, and endless cocktails come at you as fast as the funny throwaway banter of the two leads, played by he incomparable pairing of William Powell and Myrna Loy. This is movie magic chemistry of the first order. It's refreshing to see a married couple so in love with each other; their teamwork is smart sexy fun. So popular, it spawned 5 (!) sequels. And let's not forget the scene stealing antics of their pet fox terrier sidekick, Asta. He's the perfect dollop of whimsy on the whole outing.

"Blow Out" (1981)

A very fine political thriller that looks better and better with each passing year. Director Brian DePalma deftly weaves together a tight plot that references the Kennedy assassination, the Chappaquiddick scandal, and the Watergate coverup. John Travolta is a sound man for cheap grind house slasher pictures. One night he's recording sound effects and witnesses a car careen off a bridge into a river. The two passengers are a governor making a bid for the White House, and his 'date', Nancy Allen. Travolta to the rescue; the politician dies and she lives. That's just the beginning of the twisty plot as the two stars, both never better, find themselves embroiled in a conspiracy coverup because they're The Couple Who Knew Too Much. DePalma has such a command of the whiz bang cinema toys of split screens, cross-cutting, sound effects, deep focus, etc, that each tense set piece will make you giddy. As a wry comment on the proceedings expert cinematographer Vilmos Zsigmond bathes the whole production in inky blacks highlighted with reds, whites, and blues, an idea that sounds hokey but works in spades. Add Pino Dinaggio's heartbreaking and lush score and you've got a winner all around. Excellent movie craft becomes high art.

"The Secret of Convict Lake" (1951)

A taut western thriller. Pursued by a posse, Glen Ford leads a band of escaped convicts over the Sierra Nevada mountains in the dead of winter. They happen on a tiny settlement on the other side occupied only by a group of women, their menfolk are all away prospecting for silver. There's beautiful Gene Tierney waiting for her fiancé, bedridden but feisty matriarch Ethel Barrymore, and a frustrated old maid Ann Dvorak among them. A group of lonely women, a group of pent up men, a remote setting...you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. Ford is really a good guy, he's only trying to find the man that lied on the stand at this trial, but galldarnit, turns out he's looking for Tierney's fiancé (while he's falling for her at the same time). The hissable Bad Guy in the bunch is Zachary Scott making a play for Dvorak...or is he merely using her to find a hidden cache of loot? When all these personalities clash, the story keeps ratcheting up to a big gunfight finale. A great cast and some fine scenery. If you love westerns do catch this overlooked gem, it's supposedly based on true legends of the Northern California setting.

"The Women" (1939)

It's hard to decide whether this this film version of Claire Booth Luce's hit Broadway comedy is a high camp classic where everyone involved is in on the joke, or a repulsive misogynistic time capsule relic that should be buried once and for all. Maybe it's both. There's no denying there are some reasons to give a look-see. Norma Shearer is the maddeningly goody-two-shoes wife who finds out her philandering husband is seeing a conniving shopgirl (Joan Crawford) on the side. Her gaggle of friends and family offer either support or behind her back gossip, depending on who's present. The twist in the telling is that the cast is all women, there's not a XY chromosome in the whole picture. But because the film's famous tagline is "It's all about men!", you can bet the only topics discussed are how to get and/or keep your better half. Let's just say this picture fails The Bechdel Test any way you look at it. The fast paced dialog is bitchy, twitchy and oh-so-quotable, it's supplied drag queens with material for over 70 years. Credit that most famous of all 'women's directors', George Cukor, for keeping all the comedic catfights and shoulder crying at a breathless pace. And there's no denying the whole flick is stolen by Rosalind Russell who reaches for the comedy brass ring (and succeeds) as Shearer's shallow backstabbing best friend. Her lethal gossip mongering, temper tantrums, and slapstick physicality are the very essence of what's horrid--and funny--about female friendships. To top it off you get MGM's in-house designer Adrian, outfitting all the actresses in crazy over the top 1930s Schiaparelli inspired fashions...there probably wasn't a bow, button, frill, or sequin left in Hollywood after they finished this one. There's even a "what just happened?" Technicolor fashion show sequence plopped right in the middle of the black and white story just for the hell of it, as if to say "we know damn well ain't no man in this theatre, so enjoy the eye candy, ladies."