Dr. Strangelove. Dr. Strangelove is the definitive Cold War satire, perhaps the blackest of apocalyptic humor. It is one of those films, and there are few others, where every line seems just right. And quotable. "You're going to have to answer to the Coca-Cola company for that," Col. "Bat" Guano tells Mandrake as he shoots open a soda machine in order to get enough change to call the W hite House. General Ripper's discussion of Purity of Essence ranks with the great madnesses of all time. George C. Scott's portrayal of Buck Turgidson is far better than his Patton. Best of all, Peter Sellers managed to create Henry Kissinger five years before Nelson Rockefeller did. The climactic line of the film, "Mein Fuhrer, I can walk again" comes the closest I can think of to the epitaph for the twentieth century. Sellers' other characters, Col. Mandrake, the British exchange officer, and the President, are completely on target. Kubrick's films are all good, but this is his closest approach to perfection. Of course, since his new movie made the cover of Time it's probably going to bomb, but that can't be helped. Dr. Strangelove is the perfect Christmas gift.

Murmur of the Heart. This week I run the risk of discrediting myself with superlatives. Louis Malle's Souffle de Coeur is one of the funniest films ever made, and certainly the Funniest Film About Incest ever made. It captures French bourgeois life with the accuracy of a Palestinian guerrilla looking for hostages. The spinach throwing scene is the best piece of cinematic slapstick since Chaplin. The subtler pieces are all there too: the way the mother, for example, sits down on the bed in the hotel room before agreeing to take the room is a gesture peculiar to the European bourgeoisie. Souffle du Coeur is at heart a comedy of sexual manners, but a tender one. It's never maudlin, but it's not the kind of W est-Side-shrink humor you'd expect from a comedy about incest, either. Funny movies can be morally sane, Malle proves.