There are also oppressed peasants to save -- they're being forced to work a gold mine for Montero and Love, part of their nefarious plan to buy California from Mexico. My Fair Lady style, de la Vega transforms Alejandro from an unsophisticated rogue and outlaw into a fighter and a gentleman who can pass among Montero's crowd with ease -- which also gives him the opportunity to woo Montero's daughter, the ravishing and "wild at heart" Elena (Catherine Zeta-Jones).

Like The Princess Bride, The Mask of Zorro is a kissing book -- in the best possible way. Here's a film -- all too rare today -- that knows that sexy is all in your head. Banderas and Zeta-Jones convince you with the longing in their eyes that they can't wait to get their hands on each other, and watching them exchanging witty, flirty banter and stealing kisses is a hell of a lot sexier than watching two naked, sweaty, grunting bodies performing a mechanical act. Oh, there's lots sexy in The Mask of Zorro, but nothing that you couldn't let a grade schooler watch.

An action movie without special effects? Nary a one to be found here. All the gorgeous sunsets and beautiful locations were found in nature, and all the spectacular stunts are performed by live human beings -- I'd forgotten how much more organic and real it all looks when there are no computers in the mix.

The Mask of Zorro satisfies on an intellectual level, too. You don't need to know who Joseph Campbell is to appreciate the mythic scale of Alejandro's journey from pupil to master or to feel that this kind of hero's journey story just resonates more and feels more right than, say, a tale of a bunch of guys blowing up an asteroid.

From the moment the James Bond-esque opening sequence lit up the theater -- a silhouetted Zorro slashing a Z in the screen -- I smelled a franchise here. At least I hope I do. I could do with another one of these in the summer of 2000.