Frantic

No one scrambles like Harrison Ford.

A master at playing dogged men who stay one step ahead of their pursuers by any means necessary, he’s a jetlagged surgeon desperate to find his missing wife this time out.

Shortly after the couple sets down in Paris, she receives a mysterious phone call, then vanishes into the labyrinth of an unknown city.

Others might wait for the local authorities to piece things together, but this is Harrison freakin’ Ford, so he immediately plunges into danger with a growl and a grimace.

You’ve gone and pissed him off now. Bad move, boys.

Chinatown

The best there ever was.

Private eye flicks, the more hard-bitten the better, are my soul food, and Roman Polanski’s twisty (and extremely twisted) tale of family life most foul, sits atop the heap.

Jack Nicholson has three competitive Oscars, yet somehow didn’t win for playing Jake Gittes, which is sort of fitting, since the sardonic shamus seems fated to lose in everything he does.

Backed by the note-perfect score of composer Jerry Goldsmith, Gittes plunges into a web of sin, deception, and murder, not realizing until the end there won’t be any heroes left on these blood-stained streets.

Perfection.