What is an inordinately intelligent baby chimp like Virgil to do when, in the great tradition of Walt Disney, we open with the removal of not one, but two of the little guy’s mother figures? Ripped from the care of animal researcher Helen Hunt, Virgil is carted to an Air Force base where he’s to be looked after by notorious flyboy Matthew Broderick. (Both Hunt and Broderick make the mistake of viewing the test monkey as their pet.) Has it really been over thirty years since I spent an afternoon at the Cinerama Dome admiring this top-flight John Badham fantasy adventure? And where along the way did Hollywood lose its ability to combine sci-fi, comedy, and action to produce something beyond another hellhole sequel to Pirates of the Caribbean or inferior remake of the uninteresting-as-is Jumanji? Even the obligatory plea for animal rights can’t dampen this never-a-dull-moment triumph. (1987) — Scott Marks
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