I am going to add to (OK, OK, kick off) the romantic comedy portion of my list with:
Arsenic and Old Lace (1944)
A wonderful old film with Cary Grant where he's a confirmed bachelor who has decided to get married to the "girl next door" but gets wrapped up in his two wonderfully pleasant aunts killing lonely men with arsenic in elderberry wine and his mentally disturbed brother who thinks he's Theodore Roosevelt burying yellow fever victims in the basement. Oh, yeah, and throw in his other brother Johnny, a multiple murderer hiding out in the house after undergoing plastic surgery to change his looks. And the alcoholic plastic surgeon. And his new wife waiting next door for him to get ready to leave on their honeymoon.
Anyways, I love this movie and am glad to have it with me.
From wiki:
The contemporary critical reviews were uniformly positive. The New York Times critic summed up the majority view, "As a whole, 'Arsenic and Old Lace,' the Warner picture which came to the Strand yesterday, is good macabre fun." Variety declared, "Capra's production, not elaborate, captures the color and spirit of the play, while the able writing team of Julius J. and Philip G. Epstein has turned in a very workable, tightly-compressed script. Capra's own intelligent direction rounds out."
Reverend Harper: Have you ever tried to persuade him that he wasn't Teddy Roosevelt?
Abby Brewster: Oh, no.
Martha Brewster: Oh, he's so happy being Teddy Roosevelt.
Abby Brewster: Oh... Do you remember, Martha, once, a long time ago, we thought if he'd be George Washington, it would be a change for him, and we suggested it.
Martha Brewster: And do you know what happened? He just stayed under his bed for days and wouldn't be anybody.
Mortimer Brewster: Now look, darling, how did he die?
Abby Brewster: Oh, Mortimer, don't be so inquisitive. The gentleman died because he drank some wine with poison in it.
Mortimer Brewster: Well, how did the poison get in the wine?
Martha Brewster: Well, we put in wine because it's less noticeable. When it's in tea it has a distinct odor.
[
Discussing the body count]
Dr. Einstein: You got twelve, they got twelve.
[
Angrily grabs Dr. Einstein's necktie]
Jonathan Brewster: I've got thirteen!
Dr. Einstein: No, Johnny, twelve - don't brag.
Jonathan Brewster: Thirteen! There's Mr. Spinalzo and the first one in London, two in Johannesburg, one in Sydney, one in Melbourne, two in San Francisco, one in Phoenix, Arizona...
Dr. Einstein: Phoenix?
Jonathan Brewster: The filling station...
Dr. Einstein: Filling station? Oh!
[
Slits throat]
Dr. Einstein: Yes.
Jonathan Brewster: Then three in Chicago and one in South Bend.
Dr. Einstein: You cannot count the one in South Bend. He died of pneumonia!
Jonathan Brewster: He wouldn't have died of pneumonia if I hadn't shot him!
Dr. Einstein: No, no, Johnny. You cannot count him. You got twelve, they got twelve. The old ladies is just as good as you are!
