Wyatt Earp, Doc Holliday and Earp's two brothers try early retirement, but can't seem to escape the notoriety of their gunslinging past. It's a bit on the shallow, simplistic side, but machismo levels are off the charts and the strong personalities are endlessly entertaining, bouncing around and ricocheting off one another like careless lead sprayed on a dusty street.

Earp gets the marquee treatment, but there's no masking that Holliday is the story's real star. Played with an overdose of charisma by Val Kilmer, Doc is a vastly intriguing character; damaged both mentally and physically, he spends the entire film in some combination of deep intoxication and sweaty near-death, brought on by the later stages of tuberculosis. Doesn't matter. He still gets the best lines, the most memorable scenes and the densest, most complete individual storyline. A staggering, winking car-wreck of a man who's simply impossible to look away from, I'd throw him up against any of cinema's all-time greats.

The surrounding film is secondary. We get a heavy dose of gunfights, shady characters and gentlemen who look cool in an absurd mustache and a duster, par for the course given the era and genre. But Doc, man, Doc elevates this film from a stylish also-ran to an absolute classic.