The so-called spaghetti Western achieved its apotheosis in Sergio Leone's magnificently mythic (and utterly outlandish) Once upon a Time in the West. After a series of international hits starring Clint Eastwood (from A Fistful of Dollars to The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly), Leone outdid himself with this spectacular, larger-than-life, horse-operatic epic about how the West was won. (And make no mistake: this is the wide, wide West, folks—so it should be seen in widescreen.) The unholy trinity of Italian cinema—Leone, Bernardo Bertolucci, and Dario Argento—concocted the story about a woman (Claudia Cardinale) hanging onto her land in hopes that the transcontinental railroad would reach her before a steely-eyed, black-hearted killer (Fonda) does. (The film's advertising slogan was: "There were three men in her life. One to take her ... one to love her ... and one to kill her.") Meanwhile, Leone shoots his stars' faces as if they were expansive Western landscapes, and their towering bodies as if they were looming rock formations in John Ford's Monument Valley. —Jim Emerson

Mission: Impossible was one of the best action blockbusters of the 1990s, deriving a quality unique amongst its peers from the tension between Brian De Palma's directorial stylisation and the overriding presence of its star and producer, Tom Cruise. Cruise plays Special Forces agent Ethan Hunt, disavowed as a traitor by his own superiors and forced to uncover the true mole to prove his innocence. The original 1960s television series provides not only the wonderful musical motif, but also the layered complexity of false realities and masked identities, which are revealed with the playful conjuring of a Russian doll.

This was Cruise's last movie as an angst-ridden youth (next stop was Jerry Maguire and the trials of family life) and he presents Ethan Hunt as caught between his heroic physical prowess and a trusting emotional naïvety that is painfully punctured by the treachery of those around him. Hollywood heavyweights Jon Voight (Heat) and Ving Rhames (Pulp Fiction) are both excellent in support, while the remaining cast reads like an identikit of European cinema, including Emanuelle Beart, Kristin Scott Thomas and Jean Reno (Leon).

De Palma's trademark set-pieces include a giant exploding fishtank in Prague, a helicopter chase through the Channel Tunnel, and, most notably, a break-in to steal a vital disc from CIA headquarters in Langley. The moment in the latter when, in almost complete silence, Cruise dangles precariously from a cable and just catches a bead of sweat before it triggers the floor alarm is as sublimely exhilarating as any in American movies of the last 10 years.

On the DVD: Aside from basic language and chapter selection the disc is devoid of any extras, leaving us to wait for the behind-the-scenes story of the numerous rewrites and wrangling that reportedly beset production. On a more positive note, the picture and sound quality fully realise the film's highly stylised surface beauty and effects-laden kinetic energy. —Steve Napleton

The lightest of the first three films, Lethal Weapon 3 finds everyone occupying comfortable positions like students who always choose to sit in the same classroom seats. Mel Gibson and Danny Glover return as LAPD partners whose working method consists of the former diving into danger and the latter holding back. (The sequence set in the parking garage of a building, in which Gibson inadvertently trips a switch that makes a timed explosive device speed up, is priceless.) Joe Pesci once again plays a motor-mouth pest, and while the story is pretty much forgettable, it does introduce the best new dynamic in the series, a romance between Gibson and Rene Russo's equally tough but attractive cop. The DVD release includes production notes, Dolby sound, theatrical trailer, optional full-screen and widescreen presentations, optional French soundtrack, and optional English, French, and Spanish subtitles. —Tom Keogh

In the fourth and reportedly final film of the Lethal Weapon series, director Richard Donner reunites with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover, who reprise their roles as Martin Riggs and Roger Murtaugh for one last hurrah in a film that is decidedly better than the third and first chapters. This time the pair are pitted against Jet Li, who plays the leader of a Chinese organized crime unit. Li, a veteran of hundreds of Hong Kong action films, more than holds his own against the more established team of Gibson, Glover, Renee Russo, and Joe Pesci with his subtle yet strong portrayal of the quietly irrepressible Wah Sing Ku. As always with the Lethal series, the plot is incredibly simple to follow: someone steals something, someone gets killed, and Murtaugh is reluctantly thrown into the mix while Riggs dives into the case with gleeful aplomb. As with the previous movies, we watch for the sheer action and chemistry alone. The action sequences throughout the fourth installment are exquisite, from the opening scene involving a flamethrower, a burning building, and a half-naked Murtaugh strutting like a chicken (don't ask, just watch), to the climactic showdown that pays genuine tribute to Jet Li's masterful martial art skills. As for chemistry, the bond between these characters is so strong by now that you sometimes feel like you're watching a TV series in its sixth season, such is the warm familiarity between the audience and the personalities on the screen. The humor is more fluid than ever, aided immeasurably by the casting of comedian Chris Rock, who like Li does a great job of making his presence known in some memorable verbal tirades that would bring a smile out of the Farrelly brothers. But it's the verbal and emotional jousting between Glover and Gibson that makes this fourth episode especially appealing; both are in peak form with great physical and verbal timing. One can only hope that if this is indeed the last of the Lethal films, that it won't be the last time we see Glover and Gibson together on screen. —Jeremy Storey

Mel Gibson set aside his art-house credentials to star as a crazy cop paired with a stable one (Danny Glover) in this full-blown 1987 Richard Donner action picture. The most violent film in the series (which includes three sequels), Lethal Weapon is also the edgiest and most interesting. After Gibson's character jumps off a building handcuffed to a man, and Gary Busey (as a cold, efficient enforcer) lets his hand get burned without flinching, there is a sense that anything can happen, and it usually does. Donner's strangely messy visual and audio style doesn't make a lot of aesthetic sense, but it stuck with all four movies. —Tom Keogh

The series formula started to kick in with this immediate sequel to Lethal Weapon, but that doesn't necessarily make it a weak movie. Joe Pesci joins the fold, Richard Donner directs again, and Mel Gibson and Danny Glover return as LAPD partners, their relationship smoother now that Gibson's character has recovered from his maddening grief over his wife's death. But the reckless Mel and cautious Danny equation, good for a million laughs, settles into place in this story involving a South African smuggler and a new girlfriend (Patsy Kensit) for Gibson. The movie is hardly comfy, though. The last act gets nasty, and a climactic fight between Gibson (who gets the worst of it) and some high-kicking villain is ugly. The DVD release includes production notes, Dolby sound, theatrical trailer, optional full-screen and widescreen presentations, optional French soundtrack, and optional English, French, and Spanish subtitles. —Tom Keogh

Luc Besson (The Fifth Element) made his American directorial debut with Leon, a stylised thriller about a French hit man (Jean Reno) who takes in an American girl (Natalie Portman) being pursued by a corrupt killer cop (Gary Oldman). Oldman is a little more unhinged than he should be, but there is something genuinely irresistible about the story line and the relationship between Reno and Portman. Rather than cave in to the cookie-cutter look and feel of American action pictures, Besson brings a bit of his glossy style from French hits La Femme Nikita and Subway to the production of The Professional, and the results are refreshing even if the bullets and explosions are awfully familiar.—Tom Keogh

Christmas is not a good time of year in the McClane family. Especially for John McClane, who always happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But if it weren't for the heroics of this rugged, resourceful cop, many lives would be lost and megalomaniacal terrorists with various European accents would be having their evil way. In 1988, director John McTiernan and the phenomenal hit Die Hard introduced the world to maverick Sgt. John McClane (Bruce Willis) of the New York Police Department, and in the course of this film and two blockbuster sequels McClane was frantically saving lives, buildings, airports, schools, cities, and even his marriage from the threat of international terrorists, psychopaths, and cagey mercenaries. Now you can watch antihero McClane blast his way through all three movies. Witness his transition from a happy-go-lucky, slightly cranky cop to extremely burnt-out, partially alcoholic cop with a propensity to attract extreme violence and catastrophe. Yet the one thing that always overshadows his character flaws is his uncanny ability to spoil the schemes of stylish villains with slick names such as Hans Gruber (the nasty terrorist from the first film, played to perfection by Alan Rickman). Sit down, pop some corn, grab a bottle of Coca-Cola, and get ready to watch (in any order you please) the Die Hard trilogy—a must for any action buff or fan of Bruce Willis, who owes his film career to the enduring appeal of these global box-office hits. —Jeremy Storey

The second sequel to the mould-making action film Die Hard brings Detective John McClane (Bruce Willis) to New York City to face a better villain than in Die Hard 2. Played by Jeremy Irons, he's the brother of the Germanic terrorist-thief Alan Rickman played in the original film. But this bad guy has his sights set higher: on the Federal Reserve's cache of gold. As a distraction, he sets McClane running fool's errands all over New York—and eventually, McClane attracts an unintentional partner, a Harlem dry cleaner (Samuel L Jackson) with a chip on his shoulder. Some great action sequences, though they can't obscure the rather large plot holes in the film's final 45 minutes. —Marshall Fine

Director Renny Harlin (Cutthroat Island) took the reins of this 1990 sequel, which places Bruce Willis's New York City cop character in harm's way again with a gaggle of terrorists. This time, Willis awaits his wife's arrival at Dulles Airport in Washington, D.C., when he gets wind of a plot to blow up the facility. Noisy, overbearing, and forgettable, the film has none of the purity of its predecessor's simple story; and it makes a huge miscalculation in allowing a terrible tragedy to occur rather than stretch out the tension. Where Die Hard set new precedents in action movies, Die Hard 2 is just an anything-goes spectacle. —Tom Keogh

This seminal 1988 thriller made Bruce Willis a star and established a new template for action stories: "Terrorists take over a (blank), and a lone hero, unknown to the villains, is trapped with them." In Die Hard, those bad guys, led by the velvet-voiced Alan Rickman, assume control of a Los Angeles high-rise with Willis's visiting New York cop inside. The attraction of the film has as much to do with the sight of a barefoot mortal running around the guts of a modern office tower as it has to do with the plentiful fight sequences and the bond the hero establishes with an LA beat cop. Bonnie Bedelia plays Willis's wife, Hart Bochner is good as a brash hostage who tries negotiating his way to freedom, Alexander Godunov makes for a believable killer with lethal feet, and William Atherton is slimy as a busybody reporter. This film is exceptionally well directed by John McTiernan. —Tom Keogh

Though not as briskly exciting as the 2002 theatrical release, this earlier TV adaptation of Robert Ludlum's bestseller has distinct advantages over its big-screen counterpart. It's far more loyal to Ludlum's serpentine plot, boasts greater latitude of geography and character development (allowing Richard Chamberlain's fine performance in the title role), and rises above TV limitations to achieve a big-budget look and feel. Suffering from amnesia and forced to piece together his past as a world-class assassin, Jason Bourne (Chamberlain) enlists the aid of a Canadian economist (Jaclyn Smith), and this pairing of '80s miniseries mainstays remains consistently intelligent, well paced, and altogether respectable. Chamberlain and Smith have adequate chemistry (albeit somewhat shallow), and their dangerous adventure—and eventual romance—is played out against a dozen European locations. Incorporating more of Ludlum's interwoven subplots, this ambitious Bourne is a globetrotter's delight, with a spy-thriller identity all its own. —Jeff Shannon