Making 'em like they used to.(Now Playing)

The old adage "they don't make 'em like they used to" has been especially apt at the movies these past few months.

How else to respond to 1938's The Adventures of Robin Hood, starring Errol Flynn as the legendary, honorable bandit? A restored print of that classic has been making its way through revival theaters across the country, while a DVD version will be released for the first time on September 30. Far newer, though no less old-fashioned, is Kevin Costner's latest directorial effort, Open Range, a Western that--aside from a contemporary dose of violence--could have been released in 1938. Together, the two films provide a glimpse of the glorious past and a hope for Hollywood's future.

When a movie is beloved over the course of 65 years, each generation has its own way of discovering it. My initial viewing of Robin Hood ca me as a boy on a Sunday afternoon, during my family's weekly ritual of watching the television movie series "Family Classics." Captain Blood, The Swiss Family Robinson, and other films were part of the series, but none had the allure of The Adventures of Robin Hood, with its puckish Merry Men, its dastardly Prince John, and its playful, acrobatic Robin--the ultimate boyhood hero.

Seeing it again as an adult, the movie is tar more naive than I remembered. Yet it adheres to its ingenuousness with a sincere devotion that, today, feels like bravery. If the Merry Men laugh a bit too heartily, if Prince John sneers a bit too frequently, and if Robin remains completely unaware of his skintight green leggings--so what? No modern movie would have the guts to embrace the guilelessness of its source material so completely.

To watch The Adventures of Robin Hood again is to don a suit of armor against the cynicism and irony of our modern world. As Roger Ebert wrote in the August 17 Chicago Sun-Times, "this great 1938 film exists in an eternal summer of bravery and romance. We require no Freudian subtext, no revisionist analysis." The Adventures of Robin Hood is what it is, and it is great. An early example of the Technicolor process, the picture bursts with colors that are nowhere near natural, but just right for a mythic tale such as this. The trees of Sherwood Forest seem to be dripping with green paint, while the vibrant flags of the kingdom are explosions of primary colors. The restored print and DVD revive the movie's hues with a vivacity that hasn't been seen in years.

Equally electric is the movie's casting. Of course there is Flynn, whose performance as Robin inspires Prince John to describe him as a "saucy fellow." When Robin crashes Prince John's feast with a deer slung over his shoulder--well aware that killing one of the king's deer means execution--it is one of the landmark movie entrances. And then comes his exit: As the doors are locked and the guards close in, Robin fights and somersaults his way out of the castle, never once losing his impish smile.

Surrounding Flynn are some of classic Hollywood's most talented actors. Claude Rains toys with a lethal lisp as Prince John, while Basil Rathbone faces off against Flynn as Sir Guy for one of the movie's most thrilling sword fights. Among Robin's Merry Men are Eugene Pallette as Friar Tuck, and Alan Hale as Little John, both recruited for their comic skills first and their fighting abilities second. Then, of course, there is the radiant Olivia de Havilland as Maid Marian, the skeptical damsel who is first intrigued by Robin's bravura but finally won by his decent heart.