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Jackie Brown (18). Quentin Tarantino's adaptation of Elmore Leonard's novel Rum Punch is his most mature and sober work to date. At two and a half hours, it's also very dull for very long stretches. Except for the climactic sting, which unravels within a Rashomon-like flashback structure, the film feels bloated. There are more tangible problems, too: the director's sadistic streak often rears its ugly head; and the dialogue for Samuel L Jackson's gun-dealer amounts to a stream of racially provocative profanities. Still, Jackie Brown is primarily a Valentine to the Seventies blaxploitation goddess Pam Grier, and succeeds well enough on those terms. As the eponymous middle-aged air stewardess, Grier is as radiant and compelling a screen presence as she was in her heyday. Former B-movie stalwart Robert Forster, playing the decent bail bondsman who assists and falls for Jackie, serves as the emotional anchor. Their performances indicate Tarantino's most underrated quality: his generosity towards his actors.

Chasing Amy (18). Kevin Smith follows the over-rated Clerks and the execrable Mall Rats with a more emotionally involved comedy of sexual confusion. But the result is much more simplistic than it might first seem. Rooted in straight-male fantasy - guy (Ben Affleck) falls for lesbian (Joey Lauren Adams); lesbian turns straight (or does she?) - Smith complicates it by expanding the scenario into a love triangle of sorts involving the guy's best friend (Jason Lee). Acknowledging the homoerotic component of buddy movies, Smith plays it for shocks and laughs. There are flashes of wit, some funny moments, and the occasional resonant insight. But a lot of the film is sophomoric, cynical, and lacking in psychological credibility; and the performers' limitations are often painfully obvious.