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Back in 1988, The Film Society of Lincoln Center held a gala tribute for Yves Montand, one of France’s biggest movie stars, whose own story would rival any of his films for interest and color.

Much as I tend to favor non-fiction in my nighttime reading, I have a particular fondness for a good, juicy documentary. At a time when an endless series of comic book adaptations dominates the landscape of mainstream narrative film, there’s no denying that a smart and involving documentary provides a welcome alternative.

Every couple of years, right around Independence Day, I revisit this beloved 1942 musical biopic, and it’s always the same joyful, rousing experience.

In the years after the smashing success of Mike Nichols’s “The Graduate” (1967), Anne Bancroft came to believe that her portrayal of Mrs. Robinson, the bored middle-aged wife and mother who seduces newly minted college grad Benjamin Braddock (Dustin Hoffman), overshadowed the rest of her career.

Today, the name Jennifer Jones is largely lost to history, but in her prime, this raven-haired beauty was one of Hollywood’s most bankable female stars. And her personal story may be more dramatic than any of her movies.

Released the day after Christmas, 1973, “The Exorcist” was an immediate sensation. In its first few weeks in theaters, stories abounded of viewers fainting, becoming nauseous or leaving the theater in tears. One man who passed out from fright and hit his head actually sued Warner Brothers, the studio that released the film.

Dick Powell: always underrated, and today, perhaps even unknown. While any movie buff worth their salt will certainly remember him, for most anyone else not holding an AARP card, the mention of his name will likely elicit a questioning look.