OK, so it's no epic piece of cinematic history, and sure it's a formulaic and derivative romantic comedy, but I still rank it as one of my all-time favorite films because it possesses a wonderful plot structure, engaging vignettes ("A blue lady with a blue dog! That's 20,000 points!"), well-drawn characters, witty dialog, a lot of heart and a lot of laughs - not to mention a finger-snapping, so-80s soundtrack from a seemingly never-to-be-heard-from-again band called The Wigs "My Chauffeur" is all-around well written and well realized. Watching this film, you can tell the people involved both in front of and behind the camera really put their imaginations and talents into crafting something special. Deborah Foreman is quirky-cute-cool as Casey Meadows, an aspiring limo driver who shakes up the stuffy status quo of Brentwood Limousine Company when she's hush-hush hired by its reclusive owner (E.G. Marshall). She faces the cold shoulders of all of the older male drivers, save for a paternal Irish gent (played marvelously by Sean McClory) who takes her under his wing. Sam Jones is marvelous as Battle Witherspoon, the dictatorial corporate suit who's all business and no pleasure - until he meets Foreman's Casey and slowly melts for her. The romance that ensues between them is surrounded by a wonderful cast of characters who populate the movie's tangental scenes, such as the one that features the film debut of Penn & Teller (as a con man and a Middle Eastern prince, respectively). Myself, I get a little choked up every time I see the scenes where Casey comes to the transportation rescue of a young man being berated by his girlfriend for not having a car, and where Battle finally realizes what a jerk he's been and commands his long-suffering, single-mom secretary to march down to human resources the following Monday and name her own raise. Touching, heartfelt, sincere stuff. Yeah, it's a fairy tale film filled with other little fairy tales, but that's what makes it so much fun. Even more fun: "My Chauffeur" has one of the most fall-down laughing drunk scenes I've ever seen. After Jones' character gets dumped by his girlfriend, he gets rip-roaring blotto in the back of Casey's limo. Chugging scotch, primal screaming and spewing venom he declares his freedom and commences to streak stark naked through a neighborhood park. In terms of sheer hilarity it rivals the scene in "The Money Pit" where Tom Hanks laughs himself into hysterics after the bathtub plunges through the bathroom and shatters on the first floor. It's just movie magic. As you can tell, I've seen this film a few times, and will undoubtedly see it a few more in my lifetime. But everytime I see it, there is some bittersweetness that manifests itself as the credits roll at the end as I ask myself "where are they now?"