Like a soda pop left open all night, Ferris Bueller's Day Off seems to have lost its effervescence over time. Sure, Matthew Broderick is still appealing as the perennial truant, Ferris, who takes one memorable day off from school. Jeffrey Jones is nasty and scheming as the principal who's out to catch him. Jennifer Grey is winning as Ferris' sister (who ends up making out in the police station with a prophetic vision of Charlie Sheen). But there's a definite sense that this film was of a particular time frame: the 80s. It's still fun, though. There's Ferris singing "Twist and Shout" during a Chicago parade, and a lovely sequence in the Art Institute. But don't get it and expect your kids to love it the way you did. Like it or not, it's yours alone. -Keith Simanton, Amazon. [+]

Five fine episodes of the evergreen Home Guard sitcom here. Dad's Army endures because it combines a healthy dollop of self-mockery with a sense of pride in Britain's lonely defiance against Hitler's might in 1940, encapsulated in the pompous and incompetent yet courageous Captain Mainwaring. Arthur Lowe is sublime in this role. Though he generally acts as a foil to his flippant platoon of funny stereotypes (Walker, Frazier, Godfrey, etc. ), his subtle double-takes and apoplectic facial expressions of exasperation are endlessly hilarious. Corporal Jones' doddery recklessness can generally be relied upon to culminate in a finale involving trousers, cries of "Don't panic!" and chases across country but the masterstroke of this series was the casting against type of John Le Mesurier as the vague, aristocratic Sergeant and Lowe as his military but not social superior. These episodes include "The Day The Balloon Went Up" (a typically frantic caper involving a stray barrage balloon), "The Two And A Half Feathers" (including a wonderful Jonesy flashback to his days in the Sudan) and "The Deadly Attachment", in which Pike cheeks the captain of a captive U-Boat crew, who demands his name to add to his "list" of insolent Englanders. "Don't tell him, Pike!" urges Mainwaring. -David Stubbs.

By the marginal-or-miss standards of British TV spin-offs, Ali G in da House is well above adequate, even though it drags out every smart line or decent routine until they lie dead on the screen just begging for a laugh track. The film pulls back a bit from the absolute obnoxiousness of the Ali G TV skits, which makes Sacha Baron Cohen's character bearable at feature length, but also significantly less funny. Here it is finally confirmed that Ali is a weedy white kid called Alistair who pretends to be Jamaican, rather than a weedy white comedian doing a Jamaican character. Believe it or not, there's actually a plot, with a scheming Chancellor of the Exchequer (Charles Dance) recruiting Ali as a parliamentary candidate for Staines in a devious attempt to unseat Prime Minister Michael Gambon. Yet this framework is really an excuse for the sketch-like bits, such as a Los Angeles ghetto movie fantasy, Ali G addressing a meeting of lesbian feminists ("I've seen a lot of your videos"), and Charles Dance forced to read a budget speech in Ali G speak. Oddly, the film makes early-1990s jokes about Tories rather than going after New Labour, but any political satire here comes in second to knob-polishing jokes and sometimes-hilarious patter. Luckless inhabitants of the M4 corridor will nod ruefully at the final gag, in which Ali G persuades the PM not to devastate Staines and nods agreement as Gambon reassures him, "it's all right, we'll destroy Slough instead". -Kim Newman.

One of Woody Allen's best films of the 90s, Bullets Over Broadway stars John Cusack as a virtual Woody surrogate, a neurotic, Jazz Age writer whose new play sounds wooden and unrealistic to a low-level mobster (Chazz Palminteri) assigned to watch over his boss's actress-girlfriend (Jennifer Tilly). When the hood starts contributing better story ideas and dialogue than what the official playwright can conjure, questions (not unlike those of Amadeus) about the price we pay to make art at the expense of other responsibilities are intriguingly raised. Palminteri gives a very interesting performance as the enforcer waking up to the desperate (and almost feminine) demands of his own creative psyche, and Dianne Wiest (who won an Oscar), Tracey Ullman, Jim Broadbent and Jennifer Tilly are very funny together playing the ensemble cast of Cusack's play. -Tom Keogh, Amazon. com.

Penny Marshall's popular 1992 comedy sheds light on a little-known chapter of American sports history with its story of a struggling team in the All-American Girls Professional Baseball League. The league was formed when the recruiting of soldiers during World War II resulted in a shortage of men's baseball teams. The AAGPBL continued after the war (until 1954), and Marshall's movie depicts the league in full swing, beginning when a savvy baseball scout (Jon Lovitz) finds a pair of promising new players in small-town Oregonian sisters (Geena Davis, Lori Petty). The sisters are signed to play for the Rockford Peaches near Chicago, whose new manager (Tom Hanks) is a former home-run king who wrecked his career with alcoholism. They're all a bunch of underdogs, and Marshall (with a witty script by Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel) does a fine job of establishing a colourful team of supporting players including Madonna and (in her movie debut) Rosie O'Donnell. A League of Their Own is a conventional Hollywood sports story (Marshall's never been one to take dramatic risks), but the stellar cast is delightful, and the movie's filled with memorable moments, witty dialogue and agreeable sentiment. And just remember: there's no crying in baseball! -Jeff Shannon.

Inspired by an actual incident, this unassuming, wonderfully good-natured romantic comedy tells the story of a New York City street cop named Charlie (Nicolas Cage) who makes a promise to a coffee-shop waitress named Yvonne (Bridget Fonda) that will change both their lives. One day after coffee, Charlie is embarrassed to discover he doesn't have money for a tip, so he tells Yvonne that he'll share half of his winnings if the lottery ticket he's holding comes up a winner. Sure enough, he wins the jackpot-a whopping US$4 million payoff-and Charlie's wife, Muriel (Rosie Perez), goes ballistic when he tells her about his deal with Yvonne. From this point, It Could Happen to You follows Charlie's dilemma as he is forced to decide the proper course of action, and director Andrew Bergman smoothly incorporates a gentle love story into this amusing crisis of conscience. Fonda and Cage have an easygoing chemistry that adds a pleasant touch to the movie's fairy-tale plot, and It Could Happen to You's kindhearted sentiment is never so thick that it becomes sticky-sweet or artificial. As feel-good comedies go, this one's a class act. -Jeff Shannon.

For anyone who travels the congested roads of Britain these days the utterly delightful Genevieve will provoke a wistful, nostalgic sigh of regret for times gone by when there were no motorways, traffic jams were almost non-existent and friendly police motorcyclists riding classic Nortons (without helmets) cheerfully let people driving vintage cars race each other along country lanes. Even in 1953, Henry Cornelius' gentle comedy must have seemed pleasingly old-fashioned, concerned as it is with the antics of two obsessive enthusiasts on the annual London to Brighton classic car rally. The principal quartet could hardly be bettered: though John Gregson is something of a cold fish as Genevieve's proud owner, the radiant warmth of Dinah Sheridan as his long-suffering wife more than compensates. Kenneth More is ideally cast in the role of boastful rival enthusiast and Kay Kendall has possibly the best comic moment of all when she astonishes everyone with her drunken trumpet playing. Cornelius also directed Ealing's Passport to Pimlico, so his sure eye for gently mocking and celebrating British eccentricities is never in doubt. The screenplay by (American writer) William Rose now seems like an elegy to a way of life long disappeared: the pivotal moment when Gregson stops to humour a passing old buffer about his love of classic cars comes from a vanished era of politeness before road rage; as does the priceless exchange between hotel owner Joyce Grenfell and her aged resident: "No one's ever complained before", says the mystified Grenfell after Gregson and Sheridan moan about the facilities, "Are they Americans?" asks the old lady, unable to conceive that anyone British could say such things. Genevieve is both a wonderful period comedy and a nostalgic portrait of England the way it used to be. On the DVD: the "Special Edition" version of Genevieve has a decent new documentary with reminiscences from Dinah Sheridan (still radiant), the director of photography and the film's editor, who talk about the challenges of filming on location. Most treasurable of all, though, is legendary harmonica player Larry Adler, who remembers his distinctive score with much fondness and is not at all embittered by his Hollywood blacklisting, which meant he was denied an Academy Award nomination. There's also a short piece on some of the locations used (which for economic reasons were mostly in the lanes around Pinewood studios), cast biographies and a gallery of stills. [+]

Mel Brooks scored his first commercial hit with this raucous Western spoof starring the late Cleavon Little as the newly hired (and conspicuously black) sheriff of Rock Ridge. Sheriff Bart teams up with deputy Jim (Gene Wilder) to foil the railroad-building scheme of the nefarious Hedley Lamarr (Harvey Korman). The simple plot is just an excuse for a steady stream of gags, many of them unabashedly tasteless, that Brooks and his wacky cast pull off with side-splitting success. The humour is so juvenile and crude that you just have to surrender to it; highlights abound, from Alex Karras as the ox-riding Mongo to Madeline Kahn's uproarious send-up of Marlene Dietrich as saloon songstress Lili Von Shtupp. Adding to the comedic excess is the infamous campfire scene involving a bunch of hungry cowboys, heaping servings of baked beans and, well, you get the idea. -Jeff Shannon.