“Mr. Nice Guy.” Directed by Samo Hung. Written by Edward Tang and Fibe Ma. Running time: 90 minutes. Rated PG-13 (for violence and mild adult content). Nightly, June 1-4, Railroad Square Cinema, Waterville.

In top fighting form, Jackie Chan spins, rolls, dropkicks and whirls into theaters with his newest, “Mr. Nice Guy,” a wonderfully witty action film that had audiences at my screening cheering throughout and bursting into applause at film’s end.

The film aspires to be nothing more than great entertainment, and it succeeds. Unlike “Godzilla,” that damp fleabag of a film that left this critic wondering what kind of monsters will be stomping around India and Pakistan in the coming years, “Mr. Nice Guy” knows better than to forsake action for dreary human interest. It knows what its audiences want, which is, quite simply, to see Chan pummeling the bad guys in new and cunning ways.

Happily, the film delivers — with unabashed glee, bravado and ingenuity.

In the film, Chan is a Melbourne-based TV chef named Jackie (before starting his film career, Chan was an aspiring chef). While leaving work one afternoon, he comes to the aid of Diana (Gabrielle Fitzpatrick), a beautiful TV reporter on the run after videotaping a violent meeting between two rival gangs fighting over $10 million worth of cocaine.

Jackie intervenes and soon finds himself on the run as each gang believes it is now he who holds the videotape. As he hits the streets, he learns that no one in his life is safe, including his TV show assistant, Lakeisha (Karen McLymont), and his girlfriend, Miki (Miki Lee), who is abducted and held hostage by one of the gangs.

All of this, of course, is rather silly, a clothesline of a plot strung in order to launch Chan’s beautifully choreographed fight sequences. Absolutely dependent on split-second timing, Chan’s impressive stunt work could mean death to him should he miss his mark, which he does, quite frequently, as witnessed in a hilarious series of outtakes at film’s end.

What is so appealing about “Mr. Nice Guy” is not just watching Chan rolling over buzz saws, falling on top of multitiered wedding cakes, or chasing runaway horses down busy Melbourne thoroughfares, but Chan himself. He is much more than a stuntman leveling punches against weak chins and thick torsos. Indeed, he is the heart of all his films, the blood of which runs quick with the wit, intelligence and adrenaline of a genuinely gifted man.

Grade: A-

Video of the Week

“Washington Square.” Directed by Agnieszka Holland. Written by Carol Doyle, based on the novel by Henry James. Running time: 115 minutes. Rated PG (for mild adult content).

The feminization of Henry James continues in “Washington Square,” a fine film that stars, of all people, Jennifer Jason Leigh as a cowed, eager-to-please heiress forced to overcome her own timidity.

Leigh, you might recall, is the ball-breaking actress best known for her edgy performances in “Single White Female,” “Dolores Clairborne” and “Rush,” in which she played an undercover narc strung out on drugs. That she is now playing a part Olivia de Havilland won an Academy Award for in 1949’s “The Heiress” may be a bit of a surprise for those who know that film and Leigh’s work, but the great news here is that she pulls it off beautifully.

In the film, Leigh is Catherine Sloper, a shy, bumbling, plain-faced heiress smothered by her cruel, domineering father, Dr. Austin Sloper (Albert Finney). When Catherine meets the darkly handsome Morris Townsend (Ben Chaplin) at a friend’s wedding, she is struck dumb, quite literally, especially when he begins to pursue her.

Suspicious that Townsend is after his daughter only for her money — and not wanting to lose her to another man — Catherine’s father steals her away to Europe for a year in an effort to test her devotion. But what emerges in the passing of time is a Catherine who is more confident, more polished and mature. Indeed, she has become her father, strong-willed and ready to sacrifice her inheritance for love. Still, is it love that Morris feels?

Ripe with fiery emotions, slamming doors, heaving bosoms and people shouting as they throw themselves at everyone and anything, “Washington Square” works as an emotional drama that is not so much a vulgarization of James’ novel as it is a passionate interpretation of it — albeit with a feminist twist.

In James’ novel, Catherine had dignity in withdrawal. In “The Heiress,” de Havilland became increasingly bitter and brittle. Yet in “Washington Square,” Catherine emerges as a willful force liberated by truth. The result is powerful, galvanizing — and proves that, in this particular work, Henry James has stood the test of time.

Grade: A-

Christopher Smith, a writer and critic who lives in Brewer, reviews films each Monday in the NEWS.