After watching director Leo McCarey's 1945, black-and-white ode to sentimentality, it's intriguing to note how everything old becomes new again. As evidenced by 1998 box-office fare such as Stepmom and One True Thing, the "disease of the week" mentality has been tugging at filmgoers' hearts for decades. The Bells of St. Mary's is the "sequel" to McCarey's Oscar-winning Going My Way, for which star Bing Crosby incredulously took home a Best Actor Oscar for his portrayal of the paternal priest, Father O'Malley. But in The Bells of St. Mary's, Crosby's undernourished, laconic technique barely registers against the luminous, playful gravity of Ingrid Bergman, who embodies the heart of a faith-abiding but forward-thinking nun named Sister Benedict. O'Malley is transferred to her poverty-stricken school, and the two square off, ultimately forming a respect and liking for each other despite the fact that the good Sister has taken ill with tuberculosis and Father O'Malley must send her away from her beloved parish to save her life. Sure, The Bells of St. Mary's feels outdated and even trivial in light of the successors to its throne, but it's still a contender. McCarey had the touch for striking a chord that hearkens back to everything we didn't get as kids. He fills a need, as it were, with his ability to reveal our human frailties. Too, he's got Ingrid Bergman, who makes us fondly remember every teacher who lovingly and patiently made a difference in our lives. The Bells of St. Mary's recalls better days and romanticizes a gentler way of being, as suggested when Sister Benedict, after overhearing Father O'Malley remark that sometimes a man must fight his way through life, offers simply in response, "Why not make him think his way through instead?" --Paula Nechak