The year that punk broke (and by "broke" I mean "was ruined") George Romero released this quietly brilliant little movie. As good as his undisputed classic Dawn of the Dead (even Ebert can't resist Dawn), but more stark in its construction, this is the reason that Romero is the most criminally underrated American filmmaker.

This is always shelved, when they have it at rental stores, in the horror section. This is something of a travesty. While it won't appeal to the same General Audience that A Beautiful Mind did, it won't appeal to the same Horror Audience that Halloween and its sequels do, either. It belongs closer to Bergman than to Craven, but you can avoid the stuffy Bergman fan stigma.

The heartbreakingly honest performance by Elyane Nadeau, the beautiful cinematography, the elegant decay of Pittsburgh. There's more character in this than in a whole genre of "Ordinary People"s (contemptuous) and enough decadent melancholy for Fassbinder (awed respect). Movies simply don't come much better than this.