With mixed success, director John Woo and actor Chow ("Brother Chow") Yun-Fat, collaborators on the Hong Kong shoot-'em-ups A Better Tomorrow, A Better Tomorrow Part II, The Killer, Once a Thief, and Hard-Boiled, have staked separate claims in American pictures. Woo arguably has the advantage, because he is an unseen presence when his flicks reach cinemas: a Chinese leading man in Hollywood is burdened, both before and behind the cameras, by his race, unless he knows kung fu--hardly Chow's specialty. Brother Chow's first English-language vehicle, The Replacement Killers, perversely misappropriated his electric gift of cool, posing him like some wax vigilante; despite a proficiency in two-gun horseplay, he is not an action figure.

Woo's first U.S. feature went poorly, too--so did his second, for that matter. The less said about the stunt-packed disasters Hard Target and Broken Arrow, respectively, the better, but in quick summary, they lacked the Peckinpah-ian grandeur that made spectacles of his exports, in addition to any denouncement of carnage--it was not unusual, in Woo's previous films, for said grandeur to preface a message of antiviolence.

Luckily, Broken Arrow's John Travolta lobbied for Woo to direct Face/Off, which, like The Killer, explores the contradictory nature of human beings, and how appearances define and deceive us. When a sicko and a G-man switch faces, the sicko dives headlong into his newfound role as husband and father, appreciating, we suspect, this second chance at stability and security. Face/Off sounds more preposterous than it plays; I had an easier time swallowing its concept than I did any portion of Woo's latest, Mission: Impossible II (henceforth M:I-2). Yet this second entry in the presumed franchise is enlivened by his obsessions and regularly, if not empirically, superior to the Brian DePalma-helmed original.

Rogue IMF member Sean Ambrose (Dougray Scott) is planning to start an epidemic in Chimera, a new flesh-eating virus, and superagent Ethan Hunt has been assigned to stop him. Taking a cue from Hitchcock's Notorious, foiling Ambrose will require his ex--Ethan's current flame, the cat burglar Nyah Nordoff-Hall (Thandie Newton)--to rekindle their romance under false pretenses. What follows is a series of jealous entanglements and scenes in which characters employ the latest advancements in latex masks and vocodor chips to, yes, swap identities.

M:I-2 is not as thematically dense as Face/Off and its plot developments--all of them--feel paraphrased, but Woo finally succeeds in bringing his personality to a formula-driven escapade. It's a lovesick, sporadically wordless, slow-motion-prone blockbuster replete with signature visuals, such as danger reflected in our hero's shades and doves hailing his climactic arrival. Woo even pays hommage to an auteur cut from the same tender cloth, the unapologetically cinematic Michael Mann, in a sequence whose conclusion mirrors The Last of the Mohicans' famous waterfall escape. In short, the sequel calls for and enables a respectful merging of Woo's artistic and commercial instincts, ratings-conscious cuts to the beautiful bombast that comprises M:I-2's third act aside.

Interestingly, what holds M:I-2 back, more than said trims, is producer-star Cruise. His performance is joyless and preoccupied, save for his adrenalized expressions during Ethan's awesome rock-climbing introduction. When he blazes into a laboratory wielding a pair of automatics, it's a pale imitation of Brother Chow's trademark. There is pretend in Cruise's eyes that no amount of editing can conceal--though Cruise should be applauded for his game attitude towards stunts (bonuses on M:I-2's DVD stress this), just as I wouldn't expect to see Chow in Top Gun...

If you're curious to know what Chow's been up to since The Replacement Killers, rent James Foley's mediocre, English-language police drama The Corruptor, which his magnetism almost redeems, and/or check out Anna and the King, a standard-issue epic enriched by his ingenious casting. Chow brings his unique authority to King Mongkut of Siam, a part that was until now inextricably linked to Yul Brunner, who "et cetera et cetera et cetera"'d his way through the filmed version of Rogers & Hammerstein's Broadway smash The King and I. Of course, the non-musical Anna and the King itself doesn't entirely raze memories of its sugary ancestor.

In retelling the story of a British schoolmarm's western influence on the theological mores of a dynasty, it, too, puts a cutesy face on Siam's political unrest, and telegraphs a blossoming attraction between Mongkut and Anna Leonowens (Jodie Foster), the teacher, without exploring its psychological complexity. (Why doesn't she hold a grudge when Mongkut blesses the capital punishment of two innocent lovers Anna fought hard to free?)

Be that as it may, the underqualified Andy Tennant manages to direct a smattering of scenes, including and particularly said execution, with winning poise, and cinematographer Caleb Deschanel's majestic framing elevates the blander moments. While I'm not sure that Brother Chow, a normally solitary presence, and Foster, an unquestionably brilliant actress but often too aloof for her own good, ever achieve something chemical, I think they're recognizably good together--and Chow seems the consummate politician, not unlike the presidential Morgan Freeman of Deep Impact: he has honesty in his bones and charisma to burn. Anna and the King provides an easily digested helping of Chow that should tide his fans over until the Christmas release of Ang Lee's sensational Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. Ironically, it is Lee's wu xia, which required of star Chow extensive training in the martial arts, that will probably improve Chow's box-office cachet on Yankee shores.

M:I-2 and Anna and the King each arrive on DVD in Special Editions. Delayed for four months past its VHS release date to accommodate the availability of supplemental material, Anna and the King hasn't got an awful lot to show for the extra time beyond a transfer of breathtaking clarity. Letterboxed at 2.35:1 and enhanced for 16x9 displays, the image is, in a word, sumptuous; if you must be a stickler about these things, sharpness is a fraction too intense, fuzzying the tiniest details. Sadly, George Fenton's score, a single clap of thunder, and a show of furious fireworks are the accompanying 5.1 Dolby Digital mix's only real highlights.

Extras are plentiful but repetitive. We have a slick, informative TV special divided into segments about the various facets of production, from costumes to sets, in addition to five shorts individually titled "Advanced Combo" (say what?), "Featurette", "Costumes", "Production Design", and "Elephants". Tennant contributes average commentary to the film itself and six deletions--it's hard to imagine that the omitted prologue and epilogue struck the filmmakers as anything other than superfluous while they were shooting it. Lastly: the theatrical trailer, plus a music video I won't be watching again anytime soon (for Joy Enriquez's "How Can I Not Love You").

The DVD presentation of M:I-2 is a bit more enthusiastic, although its lovely, 2.35:1 letterboxed, anamorphically enhanced picture is not as flawless as Anna and the King's, due to wavering contrast and occasionally ridiculous grain (as in the establishing shot of Ethan and Nyah's automobile tango). What M:I-2 does have on Anna... is a kick-ass DD 5.1 mix, to borrow the parlance of my contemporaries. A flamenco number gives your subwoofer an even bigger workout than it surely did the dancers, and the split surrounds are always alive in some way, though they rarely upstage the mains or call banal attention to their directionality.

Your mission, should you choose to accept it, is to sift through the M:I-2 disc's enjoyable supps, beginning with Woo's breathless commentary, a two-hour testament to his soft side (be prepared to hear the term "love story" again and again). The track requires a patient ear; it's certainly much more educational than the obligatory making-of that you'll find under "Behind the Mission", a 15-minute assemblage of interviews with the principals, in addition to Woo and screenwriter Robert Towne (yes, Chinatown's Robert Towne). Then you can hop on over to "Mission Incredible"/"Impossible Stunts", where you'll find 12 featurettes on the meticulous preparation of the stunt-work--and learn why daredevil Tom Cruise earns his bacon.

Next, witness "Mission: Improbable" (if you can correctly answer a skill-testing question), a funny, if bloated, MTV Movie Awards skit with Ben Stiller's "Tom Crooze" reflecting on his career as Cruise's double. (It closes on its best joke.) And when that's finished, give the alternate title sequence a looksee (it's barely distinguishable from the end product) and view the DVD-ROM content (dossiers, location tours and so forth). Unless you're a Metallica fan (I'm told such a species exists), feel free to skip their thus far unmentioned video for "I Disappear".

This review will self-destruct in 10 seconds.-Bill Chambers

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