In 1987, when Good Morning, Vietnam (Pearl, 9.30pm) was released, I was working on a small evening newspaper in England.
The news editor there was eccentric by any means - while concentrating, he used to bite his hands so they bled, often handing your copy back to you covered in blood stains.
But he was an entertaining man, always wearing his heart on his sleeve and sharing his experiences with the news team, even when we weren't very interested in the sordid details of his conquests.
Within five minutes of his arrival in the office each day, we all knew what he had been doing the night before.
One morning, unusually arriving later than most of us, he made his entrance through the fire escape, stood at the door and yelled at the top of his voice: 'Goooooooooood moooooooorniiiiing, Viiiiiiiiiietnaaaaaaaaaam!' There wasn't a lot you could say except, 'Did you enjoy the film, Alan?' Like most, he had.
There was, understandably, something highly infectious about Robin Williams' performance as Adrian Cronauer, a real-life Armed Forces Radio disc jockey who was sent to Saigon to entertain the troops.