Sneak Previews (1975 to 1996: known as Opening Soon...at a Theater Near You from 1975 to 1977, and Sneak Previews Goes Video from 1989 to 1991) is an American film review show that ran for over two decades on the Public Broadcasting Service (PBS). It was created by WTTW, a PBS member station in Chicago, Illinois. It premiered on November 23, 1975, as a monthly local-only show called Opening Soon...at a Theater Near You and on October 15, 1977, was renamed Sneak Previews. In 1978 it became a biweekly show airing nationally on PBS. It grew to prominence with a review-conversation-banter format between opinionated film critics, notably for a time, Roger Ebert and Gene Siskel. By 1980, it was a weekly series airing on over 180 stations and the highest-rated weekly entertainment series in the history of public broadcasting. The show's final broadcast was on October 4, 1996.

The show featured two critics who presented short clips of movies in current release and debated their the merits, energetically defending their remarks if the other critic disagreed. A designated "dog of the week" was also featured, with "Spot the Wonder Dog" barking on cue as an introduction.

Episodes from the first seven seasons ended with one of the hosts saying "See you at the movies." Many episodes from seasons 8 through 14 and 17 through 21 ended with the hosts' reminder to "save us the aisle seats." Episodes from seasons 18 through 20 (when it was known as Sneak Previews Goes Video) ended with the hosts' reminder, "don't forget to rewind that tape."

Some episodes were known as Take 2 shows, which replaced reviews of recently released films with themed topics such as "Women in Danger", and slasher films of the 1970s and early 1980s. On one occasion, Siskel and Ebert invited the viewer into a day in their lives as they screened films.

The show first aired in 1975 on a monthly basis under the name Opening Soon at a Theater Near You and, after two successful seasons, was renamed Sneak Previews. The show originally featured Roger Ebert, a film critic for the Chicago Sun-Times, and Gene Siskel, a film critic for the Chicago Tribune.

The two newspapers were competitors, and so were Siskel and Ebert. As Ebert wrote after Siskel's death in 1999:

We both thought of ourselves as full-service, one-stop film critics. We didn't see why the other one was quite necessary. We had been linked in a Faustian television format that brought us success at the price of autonomy. No sooner had I expressed a verdict on a movie, my verdict, than here came Siskel with the arrogance to say I was wrong, or, for that matter, the condescension to agree with me. It really felt like that. It was not an act. When we disagreed, there was incredulity; when we agreed, there was a kind of relief. In the television biz, they talk about "chemistry." Not a thought was given to our chemistry. We just had it, because from the day the Chicago Tribune made Gene its film critic, we were professional enemies. We never had a single meaningful conversation before we started to work on our TV program. Alone together in an elevator, we would study the numbers changing above the door.

The tension between the two men made the show's production difficult and time-consuming at first: