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A great American actress is gone. Patricia Neal, the inimitable leading actress in Ayn Rand’s film adaptation of The Fountainhead (1949), Elia Kazan’s A Face in the Crowd (1957), and Earl Hamner’s Christmas story for television, The Homecoming (1971), reportedly died at her New England home on Sunday. Miss Neal, who had been born in Kentucky, premiered opposite Ronald Reagan in John Loves Mary (1949), married writer Roald Dahl (James and the Giant Peach, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) and made a remarkable comeback after suffering a serious stroke, was known by her distinctive drawl and consistently powerful performances. I have nothing but affection for her as an actress. I think I first saw her as the mountain family mother in The Homecoming, a small story based on Mr. Hamner’s novella about a poor family’s Christmas Eve which I still enjoy, and later I thought she was perfectly cast as newspaper columnist Dominique Francon in The Fountainhead opposite Gary Cooper as Howard Roark, though I would like to have seen Barbara Stanwyck, who brought the picture to Warner Bros., in the legendary role. As Marcia Jeffries falling for Andy Griffith’s Bill O’Reilly-like populist in Kazan’s brilliantly biting A Face in the Crowd, she ran the gamut of emotions and she just got better with age, whether playing soulless patron to gigolo George Peppard in Breakfast at Tiffany’s, fending off drunken lout Paul Newman in Hud, or tending to son Martin Sheen in The Subject was Roses. The last Patricia Neal picture I saw in the theater was Cookie’s Fortune (1999) in which she played an ornery old Mississippi woman and she was the best thing about the movie. She lived an incredible life, she created some of the most memorable characters on screen and, somehow, Patricia Neal combined strength, femininity, and passion in nearly everything she did.

After missing the 30-minute cable television series for several years, I’ve managed to spend five hours of the past two years watching four women romp around in Sex and the City, the original 2008 movie, and the sequel, Sex and the City 2, opening this weekend. Surprisingly, I think they are both flawed and fine for what they are: frivolous fun that’s good for shots of glamour and some small, insightful moments.

It’s official: I am impressed by three movies in a row, each opening this weekend. Russell Crowe and Cate Blanchett star in director Ridley Scott’s take on the Robin Hood legend, simply titled Robin Hood. Read my review here.

Fox Searchlight’s Just Wright is a star vehicle for Queen Latifah (Chicago) and the affable actress makes the most of it, playing a wider range of emotions than usual and having fun an in old-fashioned motion picture that, like Hollywood’s Golden Age movies, breezily mixes drama and comedy. The sports-themed story is a love triangle. Latifah, one of Hollywood’s brightest stars, is ugly duckling Leslie Wright, a physical therapist pushing past 30, driving a beater, and tired of being treated like one of the boys. Her dad (expressive James Pickens, Jr.) understands and loves his daughter, but her mother (Pam Grier) is as warm and maternal as an NBA groupie. Speaking of which, she has to compete with her godsister, a tramp played by attractive Paula Patton (better in Precious), whose goal is to manipulate a man into marriage. The man whom she designates, played by an actor known as Common, is a professional athlete and we all know what that means. But this player’s no player, in fact, he’s a gentleman, a civilized man, and Common’s performance is one of the most impressive in pictures this year. He is matched by the sensual and easygoing Queen Latifah, who is developing roles (and movies) such as this and is always a treat to watch on screen. Their chemistry is amazing and, thankfully, director Sanaa Hamri doesn’t always go for the joke. Watching the full-figured gal match up against the golddigger for a man who may actually be worth pursuing is surprisingly entertaining. Cashing in means dodging everything but the kitchen sink (nice to see Phylicia Rashad as Common’s tough-minded mother) but the payoff really scores.

The delightfully refreshing Letters to Juliet features beautiful vistas of the Italian countryside, sunflowers, and happy endings. Starring Amanda Seyfried (Dear John, Mamma Mia!) as a young fiancee on vacation with her entrepreneurial-minded intended in Verona, city of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, the picture is a thoroughly charming boy-meets-girl tale of an unlikely duo. Seyfried plays a fact-checker at the New Yorker who aims to be a writer. While traveling in Italy with her workaholic fiance, her writing ability leads to an opportunity to tag along with an old woman (Vanessa Redgrave) and her grandson (Christopher Egan) in search of Granny’s long-lost flame. The not-so-unexpected happens and it leads to some beautiful filmmaking. Filled with music, richness, and beauty, Letters to Juliet is light fare done remarkably well. Egan is terrific as a brash young realist and Seyfried, who resembles Goldie Hawn, relaxes into her role and doesn’t try too hard as she usually does. Redgrave has never been better. Spinning the distant memory of an affair from the summer of 1957 into serious life choices, her grandmother offers true wisdom to her young companions. Predictable and sappy, peppered with scenes of starry nights, bubbles and simple, restful stops along the way, these Letters are worth getting lost in.