It's rush time around here - actually, I just got in Image's new Phantom of the Opera double bill and I'm eager to see part of it tonight because (don't tell anyone) I've actually never seen it all the way through. As far as the reviews go, tonight is Walter Matthau night, purely by accident. Unfortunately neither film is a drop-the-mouse-and-run-out-and-get-it title. But Savant has tried to be civil with the criticism.

MGM's The Fortune Cookie is a reasonable disc of one of the few Billy Wilder films that doesn't put a smile on Savant's face. The critics accusing Wilder of cynicism must have choked on this one - he ladles on the totally unsavory Whiplash Willie (Walter Matthau), but then counters with a sentimental streak that's pure sap. The poor sap in this instance is Jack Lemmon, trussed in a neck brace that makes him as uncomfortable as we are.

A cute, sweet stab at a romantic comedy that chokes on its cuteness and sweetness, I.Q. puts together the ingredients of a top show (mainly the great casting of Walter Matthau, Meg Ryan and Tim Robbins) but squanders it on silly scientists, addled philosophy, and an all-too predictable outcome. Good for the stars, though.

Savant's booked himself an expensive Saturday - it's off to the 3D festival to see the one and only GOG (don't forget his mate, Magog) and later to the Cinerama Dome, to check out the new Cinerama print of HOW THE WEST WAS WON in its several-week run. I saw the movie around the corner at the Hollywood Pacific about ... 41 years ago (choke), and this should be special. But, hey, what are those two fuzzy lines going up and down in the middle of the picture? Thanks for reading, Glenn Erickson