When Chuck Heston signed on, he did so thinking that Orson Welles was also going to direct. And if Heston swayed studio thinking just this once over the course of his mega career, it would be enough to earn a gold star in the hearts of film lovers. Heston won the good fight and convinced producer Albert Zugsmith to give the “difficult” filmmaker another shot behind the camera. In return, Welles directed Heston in his finest role: as a (believe it or not) honeymooning Mexican narcotics agent trying to take down a Tijuana dope ring. Imagine the cinema’s greatest practitioner helming a tawdry tale of life in a corrupt border town that would eventually be released to drive-ins.  Welles never condescends, nor shows any signs of embarrassment at being involved in a project so far below his stature. On the contrary: with the aide of cameraman Russell “Apex” Metty, matador Welles grabs the bull by the horns and transcends the material, turning it into a baroque masterwork filled with the type of cinematic bravura that was his trademark. Am I allowed one film to accompany me to hell, I’m packing Touch of Evil. — Scott Marks