While as a whole Tarzan doesn’t quite reach the pinnacle of Beauty and the Beast or The Lion King, in one aspect it surpasses both: with the character of Tarzan himself. Tarzan has a much more realistic sensuality to him than any other male Disney character — probably any other human Disney character, period.

I was sort of down on Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery when I reviewed it here way back in November 1997. But it has grown on me in the intervening months to the point where I was eagerly awaiting the sequel. And my anticipation was rewarded nicely by Austin Powers: The Spy Who Shagged Me.

Writer/director Jake Kasdan read my mind. I’ve been thinking about writing about an updated Sherlock Holmes for the 90s for years, and he beat me to it with the witty and wonderfully off-kilter Zero Effect.

Here we go again. Humans bad; all other animals good. Civilization bad; nature good. I ranted about this attitude in The Thin Red Line, and, be warned, I’m about to do it again.

Writer Stephen King has made a career of scaring us not with blood and guts but with cerebral psychological thrillers. Director Bryan Singer, with his The Usual Suspects, showed us that he’s aware of the squirmy, manipulative power of evil. Pair these two up, and you get the coolly brutal Apt Pupil.

Cerebral but passionless, The Thirteenth Floor is the latest in the current wave of reality-questioning, existentialistic science fiction, though it unfortunately has nothing new to offer.