The Emperor's New Groove

(2000)

The Emperor's New Groove is really about another new groove — Disney animation's. The old Disney-as-usual wasn't selling anymore, and Disney was ready to begin trying new things. This entry couldn't be more different from the ones that preceded it. Instead of a love story, it's a morality tale about an unconscionably self-centered emperor named Kuzco (David Spade) who's forced to re-examine his priorities when, in a metamorphosis reminiscent of Pinocchio and C.S. Lewis's Prince Rabadash, he finds himself transformed into a llama.

Instead of the old Disney anti-family stereotypes (feeble or over-bearing father, absent or irrelevant mother, etc.), there's a refreshingly affectionate portrait of family life. Pacha (John Goodman), the magnanimous peasant who spends most of the movie helping the llama-emperor, is married to ChiCha (Wendie Malick), an attractive, very competent, very pregnant, stay-at-home mother of two; and their kids are adorable — and funny. Eartha Kitt is hilarious as the villainess, and Patrick Warburton as her henchman Kronk nearly steals the show. The fast-paced humor targets kids and adults alike, and there's a touch of whimsy worthy of Chuck Jones (“Looney Tunes”) in the innovative animation.

Charade

(1963)

Often described as the best Hitchcock movie Hitchcock never made, Charade stars Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn in a sparkling thriller with overtones of screwball romantic com- edy. Or is it the other way around? Directed by Stanley Donen, Charade's blend of genres allows it to have its cake and eat it, too. The thrilleresque double-crosses and reversals pull the rug out from under the initially naÔve Hepburn, making her deeply skeptical and suspicious of everyone and everything; yet the element of romantic comedy calls for her to learn to trust and love Grant despite the web of uncertainty that surrounds them both.

On the surface Charade seems cynical and morally ambiguous, as we meet a heroine who talks of divorcing her husband and a hero who seems to be divorced, though nothing is certain where he's concerned. Ultimately, though, the film reveals its reassuringly principled intentions. Grant and Hepburn have considerable charisma and chemistry, and Walter Matthau, James Coburn and George Kennedy enliven the proceedings in strong supporting roles. Terrific action sequences include a sprawling fight scene that ends on a hotel roof and a riveting climactic showdown. The film's real climax, though, is the romantic final scene.

An American in Paris

(1951)

Unlike the magical Singin' in the Rain, Gene Kelly's An American in Paris doesn't transcend the musical form — but it's still one of the great exemplars of the genre. The plot, characterizations and love story are all paper-thin, but they're just a pretext for Kelly's effervescent dancing and choreography, along with George Gershwin's timeless music. In a conceit both touching and surreal, Kelly plays an American ex-G.I. in Paris who's never wanted anything but to paint, though he's obviously the best hoofer in France.

As in Singin' in the Rain, he's caught between two women — one controlling, artificial and aggressive (Nina Foch); one down-to-earth and charmingly plain-spoken (newcomer Leslie Caron). Since Foch isn't nearly as much fun as shrill Lina Lamont, the film compensates by giving Kelly a rival for Caron (Georges Guetary). Its big claim to fame is the climactic set piece: an extravagant 17-minute ballet sequence that's one of