Hello, my name is Steven, and I am a scaredy-cat.

I am also a chicken, a wimp and, in situations of extreme peril, a coward.

I don't consider this a downfall. I look at it more as being blessed with an acute sense of self-preservation. As a child, I didn't dig roller coasters, felt that riding my bike down steep hills or over rickety ramps was folly and kicked and screamed at the thought of a shot. I actually still do that last one.

I would like to believe that should the situation arise that required heroic action, I would be able to swallow my fear and do the right thing. Fortunately, that has yet to occur, so, until then, I'll avoid injury, possible or implausible, and enjoy these five films featuring acts of cowardice that can be both admired and reviled. Let's start with reviled ...

CROSS OF IRON (1977): This infrequently seen Sam Peckinpah film centers on a German army sergeant (James Coburn) who refuses to testify on behalf of his cowardly commanding officer (Maximilian Schell), up for an Iron Cross. The dissension in the ranks calls into focus questions of loyalty, duty, heroism, and the tolls and toils of war. One of those rare films that is both thoughtful and exciting.

THE WIZARD OF OZ (1939): Who can blame the Cowardly Lion for nursing a chronic case of the heebie-jeebies? He not only has lions and tigers and bears to worry about but also lives in a neighborhood that boasts flying monkeys, wicked witches and talking trees. I'd be nervous, too.

THE CAT AND THE CANARY (1939): Many of the standard scenarios found in haunted house stories -- the reading of the will, the mysterious murders, the menacing maid -- trace their roots back to this creepy comedy starring Paulette Goddard as an heiress whose inheritance depends on one night's survival and Bob Hope as her less-than-stalwart suitor. A great film that manages to balance the comedy and creepiness.

THE RED BADGE OF COURAGE (1951): Although not as well-known as some of his other films, John Huston's expressionistic adaptation of Stephen Crane's classic American novel is a small gem that effectively traces the journey from cowardice to courage using quiet visuals as much as scripted exposition.

HIGH PLAINS DRIFTER (1973): Poor Clint Eastwood. Imagine being a gun-slinging tough stuck in a town full of ninnies. First, they are afraid of a trio of bad men who have taken up residence. Then they are afraid of Clint, who predictably gunned them down. Now they are afraid of the additional black hats riding in after Clint. I hereby nominate the Man With No Name for sainthood for putting up with it all.