Death on the Nile
Following Albert Finney's quirky and compelling performance as Agatha Christie's Belgian detective, Hercule Poirot, in 1974's Murder on the Orient Express, Peter Ustinov capably took over the role in this 1978 adaptation of Christie's river-bound whodunit. While on a pleasure cruise along the Nile with a taciturn companion (David Niven), Poirot slips into action following the murder of a much-despised heiress (Lois Chiles). There's no shortage of suspects... until, that is, they also start dying off, obfuscating the investigation by suggesting that several killers may be at work. With a disciplined screenplay by Anthony Shaffer, the film is solid enough and is graced immeasurably by a glittery cast including Bette Davis, Maggie Smith, Mia Farrow, Olivia Hussey, Jack Warden, and Angela Lansbury. Directed with customary efficiency by John Guillermin (King Kong, The Towering Inferno). —Tom Keogh

Evil Under the Sun
Mostly for Poirot completists and admirers of then-trendy, all-star ensemble casts from the 1970s and early '80s, Evil Under the Sun finds Peter Ustinov in his second outing as Agatha Christie's famous Belgian detective (three years after 1978's Death on the Nile). As the title promises, the action this time takes place on an Adriatic island (though Christie fans will surely balk at the switch from the novel's setting on the English coast), where a famous stage star (Diana Rigg) is murdered, and the list of likely suspects is unusually high. The parade of legendary performers—Roddy McDowall, James Mason, Sylvia Miles, Maggie Smith, Jane Birkin—plus Ustinov's energetic performance keep things hopping. But Anthony Shaffer's lazy screenplay and director Guy Hamilton's superficial approach nudge everything (action, characters, tone) toward campy, near-parody, with bitchy sniping, tacky costumes, and an obligatory soundtrack of Cole Porter tunes. It's only in the last lap that the film transcends such obviousness and finds its way back to the glories of detective fiction. —Tom Keogh

The Mirror Crack'd
Angela Lansbury does the honors as Agatha Christie's determined sleuth, Miss Marple, in this adaptation of Christie's novel. A washed-up movie star (Elizabeth Taylor) is attempting to make a comeback but is driven to distraction by a mysterious event from her past. Also problematic for Taylor's struggling actress is a series of murders occurring with clockwork regularity in the quiet, 1950s English village where a film is being produced—killings that are all somehow connected to her. Despite the British backdrop, most of the suspects, including Rock Hudson, Kim Novak, and Tony Curtis, are American in this 1980 feature directed by Guy Hamilton (Evil Under the Sun). (At least Miss Marple's nephew, the redoubtable Inspector Craddock, is played by Edward Fox.) The bad news: this is a curiously flat, monotonous film, with a mystery hook that, sad to say, is among Christie's more familiar and predictable. Hamilton doesn't demand much of his largely ornamental cast, and they don't volunteer much to fill the void. Still, fans of Miss Marple and Christie, especially those with a burning hunger to see every film or television program based on the books, will want to check it out. —Tom Keogh

One of the most ambitious animated films to come out of Japan (or anywhere, for that matter), Perfect Blue is an adult psycho-thriller that uses the freedom of the animated image to create the subjective reality of a young actress haunted by the ghost of her past identity. Mima is a singer who leaves her teeny-bop trio to become an actress in a violent television series, a career move that angers her fans, who prefer to see her as the pert, squeaky-clean pop idol. Plagued by self-doubt and tormented by humiliating compromises, she begins to be stalked, in her waking and sleeping moments, by an accusing alter ego who claims to be "the real Mima," until she collapses into madness as her coworkers are brutally slain around her. Director Satoshi Kon, adapting the novel by Yoshikazu Takeuchi, shows us the world from her schizophrenic perspective: days blur, dreams cross over into the waking world, the TV show blends into her real life, until her life merges with her part and she can't separate the ghosts from the real-life stalkers. Though the pat ending sweeps the psychosis and anxiety away with nary an emotional scar, it remains a smart, stylish thriller and one of the most intelligent and compelling uses of animation in recent years. Though tame by the extreme standards of "adult anime," there is nudity and a few sexually provocative scenes, and the animation is detailed and stylized (if somewhat stiff and jerky by Disney standards). —Sean Axmaker

The second film by director Satoshi Kon and screenwriter Sadayuki Murai recalls Perfect Blue, but Millennium Actress is a more complex, subtle, and sophisticated work that evokes the history of Japanese cinema. After nearly 30 years of living in strict seclusion, the aged film star Chioyoko Fujiwara grants an interview to journalist Genya Tachibana. As their conversation begins, Kan intercuts scenes from Chioyoko's films with her memories of pursuing the mysterious artist she met as a young girl. Accompanied by his blasé cameraman, Tashibana finds himself within Chioyoko's memories and films, alternately observing and aiding the woman he adores. Kon's skillful direction and subtle use of color strengthen the intriguing story: Chioyoko's memories are rendered in shades of gray, with hints of muted color highlighting the overall composition. American viewers will find their appreciation of this shimmering, spiral narrative deepens with repeated viewings. (Rated PG: violence, mature themes) —Charles Solomon

Quentin Tarantino's Kill Bill, Vol. 1 is trash for connoisseurs. From his opening gambit (including a "Shaw-Scope" logo and gaudy '70s-vintage "Our Feature Presentation" title card) to his cliffhanger finale (a teasing lead-in to 2004's Vol. 2), Tarantino pays loving tribute to grindhouse cinema, specifically the Hong Kong action flicks and spaghetti Westerns that fill his fervent brain—and this frequently breathtaking movie—with enough cinematic references and cleverly pilfered soundtrack cues to send cinephiles running for their reference books. Everything old is new again in Tarantino's humor-laced vision: he steals from the best while injecting his own oft-copied, never-duplicated style into what is, quite simply, a revenge flick, beginning with the near-murder of the Bride (Uma Thurman), pregnant on her wedding day and left for dead by the Deadly Viper Assassination Squad (or DiVAS)—including Lucy Liu and the unseen David Carradine (as Bill)—who become targets for the Bride's lethal vengeance. Culminating in an ultraviolent, ultra-stylized tour-de-force showdown, Tarantino's fourth film is either brilliantly (and brutally) innovative or one of the most blatant acts of plagiarism ever conceived. Either way, it's hyperkinetic eye-candy from a passionate film-lover who clearly knows what he's doing. —Jeff Shannon

Kill Bill Volume 2