John Herzfeld Fifteen Minutes partners Robert De Niro and Saving Private Ryan's Edward Burns in a thriller satire on America's "reality TV" industry. De Niro plays celebrity detective Eddie Fleming, who must reluctantly work with arson investigator Jordy Warsaw (Burns) when a grisly fire is discovered to conceal a murder. This is the work of Emil (Karel Roden) and Oleg (Oleg Taktarov), East European psychos bent on a maniacal spree of killings. All of these are videotaped by Emil, who renames himself after his hero Frank Capra, in a perverse tribute to the US of A, where "no one is responsible for what they do!". Soon the duo decide to sell their footage to Kelsey Grammer's creepily shameless frontline TV journalist. As a pair of loons whose scariness is just the right side of cardboard villainy, Roden and Taktarov steal the movie as well as their camcorder. However, the central theme of voyeurism and video murder was dealt with far more effectively in the 1992 Belgian movie Man Bites Dog and, while the action tears along in explosive fashion, it does so at the expense of both plausibility and the anti-media satire, which seems hitched crudely onto the bumper of what is essentially a satisfying but conventional blockbuster thriller. —David Stubbs

There's not one cougar to be found in 24's dynamic third season, and that's good news for everyone. After Jack Bauer's daughter Kim (Elisha Cuthbert) survived hokey hazards in season 2, she's now a full-time staffer at CTU, the L.A.-based intelligence beehive that's abuzz once again—three years after the events of "Day Two"—when a vengeful terrorist threatens to release a lethal virus that could wipe out much of the country's population. Jack (Kiefer Sutherland) attempts to broker a deal for the virus involving drug kingpin Ramon Salazar (Joaquim de Almeida), whose operation Jack successfully infiltrated at high personal cost: to maintain his cover, he got hooked on heroin. That potentially deadly triangle—drug lords, addiction, and bioterrorism on a massive scale—sets the 24-hour clock ticking in a tight, action-packed plot involving a potential traitor in CTU's midst; the return of TV's greatest villainesses in Nina Meyers (Sarah Clarke) and former First Lady Sherry Palmer (Penny Johnson Jerald); a troubled romance between Kim and Jack's new partner Chase (James Badge Dale); and a scandalized reelection campaign by president David Palmer (Dennis Haysbert), who monitors CTU as they struggle to (literally) save the day.

The intricately woven subplots that are 24's greatest strength are masterfully developed here, and character arcs are equally strong, especially among CTU staffers Tony (Carlos Bernard) and his wife Michelle (Reiko Aylesworth); CTU director Ryan Chappelle (Paul Schulze), who is season 2's tragic bargaining chip; and the annoying but well-intentioned Chloe O'Brian (Mary Lynn Rajskub), who makes pivotal contributions with by-the-book efficiency. It's 24's superior casting that overcomes the series' occasional lapses in credibility, and season 3's twists make marathon viewing a nerve-wracking delight. By the time it's all over, with a high body count and the surgical reattachment of a main character's severed hand, 24 once again leaves you gratefully exhausted. As always, Sutherland anchors the series in the role he was born to play. When Jack takes a private moment to release 24 hours' worth of near-fatal tension and psychological anguish, Sutherland proves that 24's dramatic priorities are as important as its thriller momentum. DVD extras include behind-the-scenes featurettes (about the prison break sequence, climactic F-18 Hornet air-strike, and real-life bio-weaponry) that pay welcome tribute to the series' hard-working crew, who create Emmy-worthy television under pressures as intense as 24 itself. —Jeff Shannon

Jon Cassar, Davis Guggenheim This limited-edition DVD box set contains the complete first and second series of 24. Read our reviews of the individual series here: 24, Series 1, 24, Series 2.

Michael Winterbottom

Anti-vivisection activists make a very bad judgment call and release an experimental monkey infected with "rage". 28 Days Later..., as the title has it, bicycle messenger Cillian Murphy wakes up from a post-traffic accident coma in a deserted London hospital, ventures out to find the city depopulated and the few remaining normal people doing everything to avoid the jittery, savage, zombie-like "infecteds" who attack on sight.

Our bewildered hero has to adjust to the loss of his family and the entire world, but hooks up with several others—including a tough black woman (Naomie Harris) and a likable London cabbie (Brendan Gleeson)—on a perilous trip northwards, to seek refuge at army officer Christopher Eccleston's fortified retreat. However, even if they survive the plague, the future of humanity is still in doubt.

Directed by Danny Boyle and scripted by novelist Alex Garland, this is a terrific SF/horror hybrid, evoking American and Italian zombie movies but also the very British end-of-the-world tradition of John Wyndham (Day of the Triffids) and Survivors. Shot on digital video, which gives the devastated cityscapes a closed-circuit-camera realism, this grips from the first, with its understandably extreme performances, its terrifyingly swift monster attacks and its underlying melancholy. Deliberately crude, 28 Days Later is also sometimes exceptionally subtle. —Kim Newman

Danny Boyle, Juan Carlos Fresnadillo Contains 28 Days Later and the sequel 28 Weeks Later

28 Days Later—Anti-vivisection activists make a very bad judgement call and release an experimental monkey infected with "rage". 28 Days Later..., as the title has it, bicycle messenger Cillian Murphy wakes up from a post-traffic accident coma in a deserted London hospital, ventures out to find the city depopulated and the few remaining normal people doing everything to avoid the jittery, savage, zombie-like "infecteds" who attack on sight. Our bewildered hero has to adjust to the loss of his family and the entire world, but hooks up with several others—including a tough black woman (Naomie Harris) and a likable London cabbie (Brendan Gleeson)—on a perilous trip northwards, to seek refuge at army officer Christopher Eccleston's fortified retreat. However, even if they survive the plague, the future of humanity is still in doubt. Directed by Danny Boyle and scripted by novelist Alex Garland, this is a terrific SF/horror hybrid, evoking American and Italian zombie movies but also the very British end-of-the-world tradition of John Wyndham (Day of the Triffids) and Survivors. Shot on digital video, which gives the devastated cityscapes a closed-circuit-camera realism, this grips from the first, with its understandably extreme performances, its terrifyingly swift monster attacks and its underlying melancholy. Deliberately crude, 28 Days Later is also sometimes exceptionally subtle. —Kim Newman

28 Weeks Later—Put that cynical look away, because the critics were right. 28 Weeks Later really is a sequel that delivers, that expands on the original, and in many ways even surpasses it. Faithful in many ways to the enjoyable, if derivative, 28 Days Later, this sequel sees original director Danny Boyle (who went off to make Sunshine instead) replaced by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo behind the camera (director of the excellent Spanish film Intacto). And Fresnadillo is an inspired choice, putting together a film that's not bereft of flaws of its own, but one that proves to be an ambitious and surprisingly thought-provoking follow-up. Many of the building blocks are the same. Primarily set over six months after the Rage virus engulfed Britain, turning many of its inhabitants into deadly zombie-esque creatures in the process, the film this time though sees the American military arrive to help sort things out. Only things quickly go wrong, allowing Fresnadillo to mould a pacey, exciting and desperately enjoyable action carnival, that's got a little more under the surface. Grounded by Robert Carlyle as one of the survivors of the virus, replete with his kids in tow, 28 Weeks Later skilfully navigates the labyrinth of sequel hell and really, really delivers. What's more, it opens up the enticing possibility of a further sequel, and on the evidence of this film, that's a very welcome thought. 28 Weeks Later, like its predecessor, isn't a film for the faint-hearted, and wholesome family entertainment it absolutely isn't. But it's a very good, energetic horror movie, and far, far better than you might have originally given it credit for. —Jon Foster

Put that cynical look away, because the critics were right. 28 Weeks Later really is a sequel that delivers, that expands on the original, and in many ways even surpasses it.

Faithful in many ways to the enjoyable, if derivative, 28 Days Later, this sequel sees original director Danny Boyle (who went off to make Sunshine instead) replaced by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo behind the camera(director of the excellent Spanish film Intacto). And Fresnadillo is an inspired choice, putting together a film that's not bereft of flaws of its own, but one that proves to be an ambitious and surprisingly thought-provoking follow-up.

Many of the building blocks are the same. Primarily set over six months after the Rage virus engulfed Britain, turning many of its inhabitants into deadly zombie-esque creatures in the process, the film this time though sees the American military arrive to help sort things out. Only things quickly go wrong, allowing Fresnadillo to mould a pacey, exciting and desperately enjoyable action carnival, that's got a little more under the surface.

Grounded by Robert Carlyle as one of the survivors of the virus, replete with his kids in tow, 28 Weeks Later skilfully navigates the labyrinth of sequel hell and really, really delivers. What's more, it opens up the enticing possibility of a further sequel, and on the evidence of this film, that's a very welcome thought.

28 Weeks Later, like its predecessor, isn't a film for the faint-hearted, and wholesome family entertainment it absolutely isn't. But it's a very good, energetic horror movie, and far, far better than you might've originally given it credit for. —Jon Foster

Tony Kaye Perhaps the highest compliment you can pay to Edward Norton is that his Oscar-nominated performance in American History X nearly convinces you that there is a shred of logic in the tenets of white supremacy. If that statement doesn't horrify you, it should; Norton is so fully immersed in his role as a neo-Nazi skinhead that his character's eloquent defense of racism is disturbingly persuasive—at least on the surface. Looking lean and mean with a swastika tattoo and a mind full of hate, Derek Vinyard (Norton) has inherited racism from his father, and that learning has been intensified through his service to Cameron (Stacy Keach), a grown-up thug playing tyrant and teacher to a growing band of disenfranchised teens from Venice Beach, California, all hungry for an ideology that fuels their brooding alienation.

The film's basic message—that hate is learned and can be unlearned—is expressed through Derek's kid brother, Danny (Edward Furlong), whose sibling hero-worship increases after Derek is imprisoned (or, in Danny's mind, martyred) for the killing of two black men. Lacking Derek's gift of rebel rhetoric, Danny is easily swayed into the violent, hateful lifestyle that Derek disowns during his thoughtful time in prison. Once released, Derek struggles to save his brother from a violent fate, and American History X partially suffers from a mix of intense emotions, awkward sentiment and predictably inevitable plotting. And yet British director Tony Kaye (who would later protest against Norton's creative intervention during post-production) manages to juggle these qualities—and a compelling clash of visual styles—to considerable effect. No matter how strained their collaboration may have been, both Kaye and Norton can be proud to have created a film that addresses the issue of racism with dramatically forceful impact. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

Paul Weitz Anyone who's watched just about any teenage film knows that the greatest evil in this world isn't chemical warfare, ethnic cleansing, or even the nuclear bomb. The worst crime known to man? Why, virginity, of course. As we've learned from countless films—from Summer of '42 to Risky Business—virginity is a criminal burden that one must shed oneself of as quickly as possible. And while many of these films have given the topic a bad name, American Pie quietly sweeps in and gives sex some of its dignity back. Dignity, you may say? How can a film that highlights intercourse with fruit pies, premature ejaculation broadcast across the Internet and the gratuitous "gross-out" shots restore the dignity of a genre that's been encumbered with such heavyweights as Porky's and Losin' It? The plot of American Pie may be typical, with four high-school friends swearing to "score" before the prom, yet the film rises above the muck with its superior cast, successful and sweet humour and some actually rather retro values about the meaning and importance of sex. Jason Biggs, Chris Klein, Thomas Ian Nicholas, and Eddie Kaye Thomas make up the odd quartet of pals determined to woo, lie and beg their way to manhood. The young women they pursue are wary girlfriend Vicky (Tara Reid), choir girl Heather (Mena Suvari), band geek Michelle (Alyson Hannigan) and just about any other female who is willing and able. Natasha Lyonne as Jessica, playing a similar role as in Slums of Beverly Hills, is the general advisor to the crowd (when Vicky tells her "I want it to be the right time, the right place," Jessica responds, "It's not a space shuttle launch, it's sex"). The comedic timing hits the mark—especially in the deliberately awkward scenes between Jim (Biggs) and his father (Eugene Levy). And, of course, lessons are learned in this genuinely funny film, which will probably please the adult crowd even more than it will the teenage one. —Jenny Brown

Harold Ramis Cast Robert De Niro and Billy Crystal together in a film and it should be a sucker's bet as to who's going to be funnier and who's going to give the more nuanced performance. Somehow, though, De Niro walks away with most of the laughs, mugging gleefully through Analyze This, a buddy action-comedy about a mob boss (De Niro, naturally) suffering from panic attacks who makes a shrink (Crystal, naturally) an offer he can't refuse—actually, it's not really an offer, it's a command. The good doctor is forced to help the gangster get in touch with his feelings. Had the brilliant TV series The Sopranos not underscored how thin and formulaic director-cowriter Harold Ramis's approach to such potentially rich material actually is, the movie—a hit in cinemas (and De Niro's biggest film ever)—would seem more fresh. De Niro is definitely a hoot as the ever milder menace and Crystal actually concentrates on giving a credible performance opposite the acting legend (alas, he doesn't turn his character's fear of his patient into inspired comedy, as Alan Arkin did in Grosse Pointe Blank). The conclusion devolves into the requisite gunplay and Chazz Palminteri and Lisa Kudrow are criminally wasted as an opposing mob boss and Crystal's fiancée, respectively, but overall, Analyze This is breezy fun. —David Kronke

Peter Chung, Shinichirô Watanabe, Kôji Morimoto, Mahiro Maeda, Andy Jones (VI) The Animatrix is a series of nine stories by different directors set in the Matrix universe, all of them conceived and commissioned by the Wachowski brothers. They demonstrate an eclectic mix of anime animation styles, stories and characters, most of which intertwine with the narrative of the first sequel, The Matrix Reloaded.

The first and most impressive is the Final Flight of the Osiris (from the director of Final Fantasy). In a breathtaking computer-generated short that would have worked well as a pre-title sequence for the second film, the crew of the ill-fated Osiris discover the sentinel army and the machines drilling towards Zion. This most filmic of the offerings guides fans into the more individualistic animated styles of the subsequent features.

The second and third instalments, The Second Renaissance, Parts 1 & 2, turn the tables on the man vs. machines battle by telling the story of the emergence of artificial intelligence and the ensuing (mostly human instigated) carnage leading up to the subjugation of the human race. The remaining features are: Kid's Story (directed by anime supreme Shinichiro Watanabe), which introduces us to the Kid, who also features in Reloaded; Program and World Record, written by Yoshiaki Kawajiri, better known for schlock horror anime Vampire Hunter B; Beyond, which tells what happens when ordinary people discover bugs in the system; A Detective Story, a homage to film noir as PI Ash is hired to track Trinity; and the distinctly psychedelic Matriculated.

The standard of animation is high throughout, even where the storylines are confused (and in one or two cases little more than conceptual). This is a fascinating collection of shorts that will appeal to Matrix and anime fans alike, as well as shedding light on some of the more obtuse plot machinations of Reloaded.

On the DVD: The Animatrix is primarily a visual offering, so it's good to see that this anamorphically enhanced 2.35:1 video transfer is near-perfect, with CGI extravaganza signature short The Final Flight of the Osiris being about as stunning as is possible on a small screen. Extras are plentiful: the commentaries for The Second Renaissance Parts 1 & 2 are in Japanese with English subtitles; there are two more commentaries, for Program and World Record. There are also some features, including one on the history of anime and seven on the individual films in the series; the best of the latter is the featurette for Osiris, which goes into detail on the CGI and contains a "square celebrity death match" sequence of a modified Aki (from the Final Fantasy film) battling a sentinel. —Kristen Bowditch

Matthew Robbins

Felix Enriques Alcala The revival of Battlestar Galactica has proven not just to be a roaring success with viewers, but one of the most critically-acclaimed science-fiction series too. Battlestar Galactica: Razor's place is as an introduction to the events that take place in the fourth season of the show. Yet it's also a terrific feature-length TV movie in its own right.

The story of Battlestar Galactica: Razor actually focuses quite a lot on a different Battlestar, the Pegasus. Throughout the movie, we see it under the command of the love-to-hate Admiral Helena Cain, while we also follow Lieutenant Kendra Shaw under her tutelage, and Lee Adama's first mission in charge of the Pegasus.

Naturally too, Battlestar Galactica: Razor isn't shy of Cylons, as we see them in the infancy of their attack on humankind. And all of these ingredients make for some interesting back story to the main show, and a great one-off piece of entertainment too. It doesn't pull its punches when it comes to the action sequences, and there's some worthwhile character work in there too.

While clearly intended as an appetite-whetter for the fourth season of Battlestar Galactica, Razor nonetheless has enough in the tank to more than hold its own. It proves to be yet another example as to why Battlestar is the show that's been topping science fiction fans' favourites lists for some time. —Jon Foster

Battlestar Galactica's Edward James Olmos wasn't kidding when he said "the series is even better than the miniseries." As developed by sci-fi TV veteran Ronald D. Moore, the "reimagined" BG is exactly what it claims to be: a drama for grown-ups in a science-fiction setting. The mature intelligence of the series is its greatest asset, from the tenuous respect between Galactica's militarily principled commander Adama (Olmos) and politically astute, cancer-stricken colonial President Roslin (Mary McDonnell) to the barely suppressed passion between ace Viper pilot "Apollo" (a.k.a. Adama's son Lee, played by Jamie Bamber) and the brashly insubordinate Starbuck (Katee Sackhoff), whose multifaceted character is just one of many first-season highlights. Picking up where the miniseries ended, season 1 opens with the riveting, Hugo Award-winning episode "33," in which Galactica and the "ragtag fleet" of colonial survivors begin their quest for the legendary 13th colony planet Earth, while being pursued with clockwork regularity by the Cylons, who've now occupied the colonial planet of Caprica. The fleet's hard-fought survival forms (1) the primary side of the series' three-part structure, shared with (2) the apparent psychosis of Dr. Gaius Baltar (James Callis) whose every thought and move are monitored by various incarnations Number Six (Tricia Helfer), the seemingly omniscient Cylon ultravixen who follows a master plan somehow connected to (3) the Caprican survival ordeal of crash-landed pilots "Helo" (Tahmoh Penikett) and soon-to-be-pregnant "Boomer" (Grace Park), whose simultaneous presence on Galactica is further evidence that 12 multicopied models of Cylons, in human form, are gathering their forces.

With remarkably consistent quality, each of these 13 episodes deepens the dynamics of these fascinating characters and suspenseful situations. While BG relies on finely nuanced performances, solid direction, and satisfying personal and political drama to build its strong emotional foundation, the action/adventure elements are equally impressive, especially in "The Hand of God," a pivotal episode in which the show's dazzling visual effects get a particularly impressive showcase. Original BG series star Richard Hatch appears in two politically charged episodes (he's a better actor now, too), and with the threat of civil war among the fleet, season 1 ends with an exceptional cliffhanger that's totally unexpected while connecting the plot threads of all preceding episodes. To the credit of everyone involved, this is really good television.

Michael Rymer Let's get straight to the point: bar none, Battlestar Galactica is the best science fiction television programme currently showing. In fact, let's go further. It's the best of the last decade. And truthfully? You'd find very few sci-fi fans who'd disagree.

What's more, plenty of people must be busy eating their words, too. Back when it was announced that Battlestar Galactica was being revived, feelings were mixed, not helped by the divided reaction to the mini-series that kickstarted this iteration of the show. Yet over the past couple of years, it's cleverly proven to be a tense, gripping mix of action and drama, with a tightly-woven plot.

This third season? It's arguably the best so far. A delicious soup of mystery, relevations, actions, striking characters and winding narrative, Battlestar Galactica is also served superbly well by a quality cast, some quality special effects, and a real focus on what matters from behind the camera.

As usual, there are no spoilers in this review, although it's not giving much away to say that the deadly cylons have to share the screen time with some intriguing and revealing character development this time round. And with word that season four of the revived Battlestar Galactica will be the last, things are set up for a terrific final act.

Season three of the show though is extraordinarily good, a real, genuine sci-fi classic that's going to have one mighty shelf life once this particularly iteration of the programme has gone. And with umpteen surprises to go back and check out, it's never likely to be one to gather dust on the shelf, either. —Jon Foster

Spike Jonze While too many films suffer the fate of creative bankruptcy, Being John Malkovich is a refreshing study in contrast, so bracingly original that you'll want to send director Spike Jonze and screenwriter Charlie Kaufman a thank-you note for restoring your faith in the enchantment of film. Even if it ultimately serves little purpose beyond the thrill of comedic invention, this demented romance is gloriously entertaining, spilling over with ideas that tickle the brain and even touch the heart. That's to be expected in a movie that dares to ponder the existential dilemma of a forlorn puppeteer (John Cusack) who discovers a metaphysical portal into the brain of actor John Malkovich.

The puppeteer takes a job working as a file clerk on the seventh-and-a-half floor of a Manhattan office building; this idea alone might serve as the comedic basis for an entire film, but Jonze and Kaufman are just getting started. Add a devious co-worker (Catherine Keener), Cusack's dowdy wife (a barely recognisable Cameron Diaz), and a business scheme to capitalise on the thrill of being John Malkovich, and you've got a movie that just gets crazier as it plays by its own outrageous rules. Malkovich himself is the film's pièce de résistance, playing on his own persona with obvious delight and—when he enters his own brain via the portal—appearing with multiple versions of himself in a tour-de-force use of digital trickery. Does it add up to much? Not really. But for 112 liberating minutes, Being John Malkovich is a wild place to visit. —Jeff Shannon

Ridley Scott Ridley Scott's Black Hawk Down conveys the raw, chaotic urgency of ground-force battle in a worst-case scenario. With exacting detail, the film re-creates the American siege of the Somalian city of Mogadishu in October 1993, when a 45-minute mission turned into a 16-hour ordeal of bloody urban warfare. Helicopter-borne U.S. Rangers were assigned to capture key lieutenants of Somali warlord Muhammad Farrah Aidid, but when two Black Hawk choppers were felled by rocket-propelled grenades, the U.S. soldiers were forced to fend for themselves in the battle-torn streets of Mogadishu, attacked from all sides by armed Aidid supporters. Based on author Mark Bowden's bestselling account of the battle, Scott's riveting, action-packed film follows a sharp ensemble cast in some of the most authentic battle sequences ever filmed. The loss of 18 soldiers turned American opinion against further involvement in Somalia, but Black Hawk Down makes it clear that the men involved were undeniably heroic. —Jeff Shannon

Ridley Scott

Paul Greengrass Good enough to suggest long-term franchise potential, The Bourne Supremacy is a thriller fans will appreciate for its well-crafted suspense, and for its triumph of competence over logic (or lack thereof). Picking up where The Bourne Identity left off, the action begins when CIA assassin and partial amnesiac Jason Bourne (a role reprised with efficient intensity by Matt Damon) is framed for a murder in Berlin, setting off a chain reaction of pursuits involving CIA handlers (led by Joan Allen and the duplicitous Brian Cox, with Julia Stiles returning from the previous film) and a shadowy Russian oil magnate. The fast-paced action hurtles from India to Berlin, Moscow, and Italy, and as he did with the critically acclaimed Bloody Sunday, director Paul Greengrass puts you right in the thick of it with split-second editing (too much of it, actually) and a knack for well-sustained tension. It doesn't all make sense, and bears little resemblance to Robert Ludlum's novel, but with Damon proving to be an appealingly unconventional action hero, there's plenty to look forward to. —Jeff Shannon

Paul Greengrass There's no getting around it: there was simply no better summer blockbuster in 2007 than the astonishing The Bourne Ultimatum.

It's a film that defies expectations in many ways. Firstly, it's a third entry in a trilogy that by some distance in the best in an already-compelling franchise. Secondly, whenThe Bourne Ultimatum kickstarts with a ferocious energy and pace, you sit there and rightly expect it not to keep the momentum going. But it does. And does it astonishingly well. Just witness the breathless sequence through Waterloo Station, convince yourself that the film has peaked then, then go and watch them top it later on in the movie.

The film itself has many trump cards, not least its leading man. Matt Damon fits the character of reluctant lead Jason Bourne perfectly, but the trick is to give him some excellent supporting players to work against. Thus, The Bourne Ultimatum also stars the excellent pair of David Straitharn and a returning Joan Allen, along with Albert Finney, Paddy Considine and Julia Stiles too.

But the hidden hero of The Bourne Ultimatum is director Paul Greengrass. Arguably one of the most interesting and talented directors working today (he was rightly Oscar-nominated for his haunting United 93), Greengrass has fashioned a genuinely thrilling action thriller, that bursts with an energy and relentlessness that you simply have no right to expect. That he also managed to wrap up the story Jason Bourne's quest for his identity in the midst of it is all the more astonishing.

A terrific end to an already-impressive trilogy, there's little else ot say about The Bourne Ultimatum, which is simply a near flawless piece of blockbuster entertainment. Put simply: don't miss this movie. —Simon Brew

Martin Campbell The most successful invigoration of a cinematic franchise since Batman Begins, Casino Royale offers a new Bond identity. Based on the Ian Fleming novel that introduced Agent 007 into a Cold War world, Casino Royale is the most brutal and viscerally exciting James Bond film since Sean Connery left Her Majesty's Secret Service. Meet the new Bond; not the same as the old Bond. Daniel Craig gives a galvanising performance as the freshly minted double-0 agent. Suave, yes, but also a "blunt instrument," reckless and possessed with an ego that compromises his judgment during his first mission to root out the mastermind behind an operation that funds international terrorists. In classic Bond film tradition, his global itinerary takes him to far-flung locales, including Uganda, Madagascar, the Bahamas (that's more like it) and Montenegro, where he is pitted against his nemesis in! a poker game, with hundreds of millions in the pot. The stakes get even higher when Bond lets down his armour by falling in love with Vesper (Eva Green), the ravishing banker's representative fronting him the money.

For longtime fans of the franchise, Casino Royale offers some retro kicks. Bond wins his iconic Aston Martin at the gaming table, and when a bartender asks if he wants his martini "shaken or stirred," he disdainfully replies, "Do I look like I give a damn?". There's no Moneypenny or "Q," but Dame Judi Dench is back as the exasperated M who, one senses, admires Bond's "bloody cheek." A Bond film is only as good as its villain, and Mads Mikkelsen as Le Chiffre, who weeps blood, is a sinister dandy. From its punishing violence and virtuoso action sequences to its romance, Casino Royale is a Bond film that, in the words of one character, 'makes you feel it', particularly during an excruciating torture sequence. Double-0s, Bond observes early on, "have a short life expectancy". But with Craig, there is new life in the old franchise yet, as well as genuine anticipation for the next one when, at last, the signature James Bond theme kicks in following the best last ! line ever in any Bond film. To quote Goldie Hawn in Private Benjamin, "now I know what I've been faking all these years". —Donald Liebenson

Roger Michell Changing Lanes finds director Roger Michell (Notting Hill) going American but not Hollywood, working from a script written by Michael Tolkin (The Player) and newcomer Chip Taylor. The result is something like Falling Down squared.

It all starts with a car collision in New York. An alcoholic insurance salesman Doyle Gipson (Samuel L Jackson), hurrying for a vital hearing at which he might lose access to his kids, is entangled with yuppie lawyer Gavin Banek (Ben Affleck), himself speeding to a court hearing at which he must present an important document to secure his firm's custodianship of a 100 million dollar foundation. Doyle wants to handle things by the book and spurns Gavin's offer of a blank cheque, which prompts the lawyer to drive off, leaving Doyle in the rain and doomed not to make the court in time, though he leaves behind the crucial document.

Over the course of the day, things escalate as Gavin tries to get the file back and an embittered Doyle refuses. In a game of deadly tit-for-tat, Gavin hires a hacker to wipe out Doyle's financial records, while Doyle resorts to sabotaging Gavin's car.

The script is carefully balanced: assuming our natural sympathy for the put-upon Jackson as opposed to the smooth Affleck, we are carefully shown that the picture is not that simple—Jackson wouldn't be in a custody hearing if this was the first time his life ran out of control, while the whole crisis forces Affleck (whose unethical bosses want him to forge the document) to reassess his fast-track life. It's fable-like rather than credible, but the suspense ratchets ever higher and there are some fine speeches well delivered by the stars. —Kim Newman

Peter Chung Taking its cue from The Animatrix, Dark Fury is part of a new trend of bridging theatrical sequels. As an official product of a franchise, the 35-minute anime benefits from having the original actors voice the characters, including Vin Diesel as Riddick. This story opens with the new action hero and the two other survivors of Pitch Black already caught by a giant spaceship filled with dread. The sinewy leader has a unique—and creepy—jail for master villains and she has her sights set on Riddick. The film—indeed the series—is indebted to animator Peter Chung, who brings his techno style from his Aeon Flux series. His smooth animation for Riddick doesn't reinvent the character as much as give him a new, appealing fluidity. As anime goes, there's nothing really new here—plenty of action, cool killers, and dramatic spurts of blood—but it's a building block for how this genre might enliven movie series and sequels in the future. —Doug Thomas

David Twohy Bigger isn't always better, but for anyone who enjoyed Pitch Black, a nominal sequel like The Chronicles of Riddick should prove adequately entertaining. Writer-director David Twohy returns with expansive sets, detailed costumes, an army of CGI effects artists, and the star he helped launch—Vin Diesel—bearing his franchise burden quite nicely as he reprises his title role. The Furian renegade Riddick has another bounty on his head, but when he escapes from his mercenary captors, he's plunged into an epic-scale war waged by the Necromongers. A fascist master race led by Lord Marshal (Colm Feore), they're determined to conquer all enemies in their quest for the Underverse, the appeal of which is largely unexplained (since Twohy is presumably reserving details for subsequent "chronicles"). With tissue-thin plotting, scant character development, and skimpy roles that waste the talents of Thandie Newton (as a Necromonger conspirator) and Judi Dench (as a wispy "Elemental" priestess), Twohy's back in the B-movie territory he started in (with The Arrival), brought to vivid life on a vast digital landscape with the conceptual allure of a lavish graphic novel. But does Riddick have leadership skills on his resumé? To get an answer to that question, sci-fi fans will welcome another sequel. —Jeff Shannon

Simon West

Andrzej Sekula

Vincenzo Natali If Clive Barker had written an episode of The Twilight Zone, it might have looked something like Cube. A handful of strangers wake up inside a bizarre maze, having been spirited there during the night. They quickly learn that they have to navigate their way through a series of chambers if they have any hope of escape but the problem is that there are lethal traps awaiting if they choose their route unwisely. Having established some imaginative and grisly punishments in store for the hostages, cowriter and director Vincenzo Natali turns his attention to the characters, for whom being trapped amplifies their best and worst qualities. The film is, in fact, similar to a famous episode of Rod Serling's old television series, though Natali's explanation for why these poor people are being put through hell is a lot closer to the spirit of The X-Files. Cube has some solid moments of suspense and drama and the sets are appropriately striking: one is tempted to believe at first the characters are lost inside a computer chip. —Tom Keogh

Vincenzo Natali, Andrzej Sekula, Ernie Barbarash

Ernie Barbarash Following the grisly 1997 Cube and its 2002 sequel, Cube 2: Hypercube, Cube Zero stretches the original's The Twilight Zone-like, strangers-in-a-box theme a little thin. Fortunately, there's a difference this time. The hero is not just another disoriented captive of the Cube's interconnected—often lethal—rooms, but rather a geek named Eric (Zachary Bennett) who sits in a control station wrestling with his conscience about inflicting misery on innocent people. Taking orders over the phone from some almighty, unknown power in a distant office, Eric reaches a breaking point and enters the maze himself, intent on helping a woman (Stephanie Moore) who doubts his motives. The existential bent of the prior films becomes even more Kafkaesque this time with the arrival of a white-collar team of tormentors, bureaucratic tyrants who can't or won't explain the point of the Cube. Imaginative writer-director Ernie Barbarash rescues what might have been a tedious formula flick. —Tom Keogh

Michael Cimino The Deer Hunter is an expansive portrait of friendship in a Pennsylvania steel town, and of the effects of the Vietnam War. Led by the trio of Robert De Niro, John Savage and Christopher Walken (who won a supporting actor Oscar), the first hour is dominated by an engrossing Russian Orthodox wedding and reception. When the drama moves overseas it switches from anthropologically realistic documentation of a community's rituals to highly controversial and still shocking Russian Roulette scenes, symbolising the random horror of war. Unforgettable as they are, the Vietnam sequences occupy less than a third of the three-hour running time; defying movie convention The Deer Hunter is fundamentally a before-and-after ensemble character study anchored by De Niro's great performance.

Although it was the first serious Hollywood feature to address the Vietnam War, the plausibility of some of the later plot developments raises awkward questions. But the film remains powerfully effective, its deliberate pace, naturalistic overlapping dialogue and unflinching seriousness marking it very much a product of the 1970s. With nine Oscar nominations and five wins, including Best Picture and Director, it's a cinematic landmark that stands the test time, almost incidentally setting Meryl Streep on the road to superstardom in her first leading role.

On the DVD: The Deer Hunter: Special Edition has the film on the first disc with a serious yet amiable Region 2 exclusive discussion track between director Michael Cimino and critic SX Finnie. The picture is anamorphically enhanced at 2.35:1, and perfectly reproduces Vilmos Zsigmond's deliberately desaturated, necessarily grainy cinematography. The Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack clearly reveals the mono original, being largely focused on the centre speaker and while it does a good job, some of the choral music does sound harsh. Dialogue is sometimes indecipherable, but that's due to the naturalistic nature of the original sound recording and mixing.

Disc 2 offers excellent new interviews with Jon Savage (15 mins), Vilmos Zsigmond (15 mins) and Michael Cimino (23 mins). Also included is the original trailer (anamorphically enhanced 2.35:1), a routine photo gallery and a DVD version of the original press brochure. There's no trace of the 40 minutes of deleted material referred to by Cimino, but this presentation is still an object lesson in how quality of extras triumphs over quantity. —Gary S Dalkin

Taylor Hackford Too old for Hamlet and too young for Lear—what—what's an ambitious actor to do? Play the Devil, of course. Jack Nicholson did it in The Witches of Eastwick; Robert De Niro did it in Angel Heart (as Louis Cyphre—get it?). In The Devil's Advocate Al Pacino takes his turn as the great Satan, and clearly relishes his chance to raise hell. He's a New York lawyer, of course, by the name of John Milton, who recruits a hotshot young Florida attorney (Keanu Reeves) to his firm and seduces him with tempting offers of power, sex and money. Think of the story as a twist on John Grisham's The Firm, with the corporate evil made even more explicit. Reeves is wooden, and therefore doesn't seem to have much of a soul to lose, but he's really just our excuse to meet the devil. Pacino's the main attraction, gleefully showing off his—and the Antichrist's—chops at perpetrating menace and mayhem. —Jim Emerson

Lee Tamahori The 20th "official" 007 outing released in the 40th anniversary year of the series, Die Another Day is big, loud, spectacular, slick, predictable and as partially satisfying as most Bond movies have been for the last 30 years. Pierce Brosnan gives his best Bond performance to date, forced to suffer torture by scorpion venom administered by a North Korean dominatrix during the Madonna-warbled credits song. He traipses from Cuba to London to Iceland while feuding with a smug insomniac millionaire (Toby Stephens), who admits that he's an evil parody of Bond's own personality. There are many nods to the past: Halle Berry recreates Ursula Andress's entrance from Dr No, the gadget-packed car (which can become invisible) is a Goldfinger-style Aston Martin (albeit a brand-new model), the baddie's line in smuggled "conflict gems" and super-weapons derives from Diamonds Are Forever and the jet-pack from Thunderball can be seen in Q's lab.

It's the longest of the franchise to date (two-and-a-quarter hours) and the first to augment stunts and physical effects with major CGI, though the best fight is traditional: a polite club fencing match between Brosnan and Stephens that gets out of hand and turns into a destructive hack-and-slash fest with multiple edged weapons. Berry may be the first Bond girl with an Oscar on her shelf, but she's still stuck with a bad hairdo as well as having to endure 007's worst chat-up lines. Amazingly, most of the old things here do still work, though it's a shame that director Lee Tamahori (Once Were Warriors) wasn't given a better script to play with.

On the DVD: Die Another Day arrives on disc in a transfer that makes some of the CGI look less dodgy than it did in cinemas. The first disc includes two separate commentaries: an interesting, enthusiastic technical one with Tamahori and producer Michael Wilson, and a blander drone from Brosnan with input from "bad girl" actress Rosamund Pike. On Disc Two the main extra is "Inside Die Another Day", a 75-minute making-of with the usual 007 DVD extra mix of boosterism and solid background how-the-hell-they-did-it info. The "Region 2 exclusive" turns out to be another making-of, a video diary effort that takes a more interesting, wry approach to the mix of enterprise and chaos that is the Bond production machine. —Kim Newman

Don Siegel "Dirty" Harry Callahan was one of the first screen characters to embody contemporary fears about crime—and the uncompromising response to it that much of the audience would liked to have seen. Clint Eastwood's laconic rogue cop became an instant screen icon; his catchphrases ("Do you feel lucky?", "Make my day") were and still are endlessly quoted, and he even inspired a futuristic comic-strip counterpart in the person of Judge Dredd. Made at the time when the real "Zodiac" serial killer was terrorising San Francisco, the original Dirty Harry struck a frighteningly realistic note in 1971: aside from Eastwood, director Don Siegel's taught, pacey direction, Lalo Schifrin's nervy jazz score and Andrew Robinson's cackling psycopath "Scorpio" all make a strong impact. Such was the film's success that it gave rise to no less than four sequels, none of which are its equal but all of which get by on the charisma of Eastwood's anti-hero, even when he's increasingly trapped by the character's one-dimensional persona.

This five-disc box set contains all the "Harry" movies: Dirty Harry (1971); Magnum Force (1973, with David Soul as a vigilante bike cop); The Enforcer (1976, with Tyne "Lacey" Daly as Harry's new and reluctant partner); Sudden Impact (1983, the weakest of the lot costarring Eastwood's then-partner Sondra Locke) and The Dead Pool (1988, a surprisingly upbeat end to the series). —Mark Walker

Sidney Lumet A gripping true crime yarn, a juicy slice of overheated New York atmosphere and a splendid showcase for its young actors, Dog Day Afternoon is a minor classic of the 1970s. The opening montage of New York street life (set to Elton John's lazy "Amoreena") establishes the oppressive mood of a scorching afternoon in the city with such immediacy that you can almost smell the garbage baking in the sun and the water from the hydrants evaporating from the sizzling pavement. Al Pacino plays Sonny, who, along with his rather slow-witted accomplice Sal (John Cazale, familiar as Pacino's Godfather brother Fredo), holds hostages after a botched a bank robbery. Sonny finds himself transformed into a rebel celebrity when his standoff with police (including lead negotiator Charles Durning) is covered live on local television. The movie doesn't appear to be about anything in particular, but it really conveys the feel of wild and unpredictable events unfolding before your eyes, and the whole picture is so convincing and involving that you're glued to the screen. An Oscar winner for original screenplay, Dog Day Afternoon was also nominated for best picture, actor, supporting actor (Chris Sarandon, as a surprise figure from Sonny's past), editing, and director (Sidney Lumet of Serpico, Prince of the City, The Verdict and Running on Empty). —Jim Emerson

Kevin Smith Bored of being eternally banished to earth, two errant angels hatch a plan to sneak back into heaven. Unfortunately, if they use the required loophole in religious Dogma, they'll prove God fallible and undo the very fabric of the universe, ending all existence. Bummer. Enter the distant grand niece of Jesus Christ and an army of angels, beautiful mythical figures, saintly apostles and all entities good and holy. And Jay and Silent Bob.

The phrase "it's a religious comedy" must have caused Hollywood to have a sacred cow. And, as Smith's first attempt to move away from the early lo-fi, character-centred, relationship-based comedies (Clerks, Mallrats and Chasing Amy) toward the narrative-led big-budget spectacular, Dogma is not without problems. Proving controversial on release, stones were cast by churchgoers and Smith devotees alike. Frothing-mouthed extremists levelled charges of blasphemy at the more colourful elements (a Malcolm X-style 13th apostle, the crucifix being binned as uncool and God not being a white-bearded patriarch), leaving the devoutly Catholic Smith, who's intentions were to celebrate the mystery and beauty of religion, completely bemused. Equally, the Luddite Clerks obsessives who wrote it off as "Smith-gone-Hollywood" should have recognised that the script was written way before he gave us his black-and-white debut.

More ambitious than his previous mates-roped-in cheapies, the apocryphal and apocalyptic Dogma is still blessed with water-into-wine performances, pop culture gags, postmodern self-referencing and stoopid shagging jokes. Though it may not be wholly miraculous, this is still a righteous movie; and, in comparison with the average big-buck formulaic Hollywood evil, it's practically saintly.

On the DVD: Dogma's budget outstripped the early Smith films by miles, and the 2.35:1 Anamorphic Widescreen transfer does it justice, with divine colour and heavenly sound. The picture quality of the extras—including trailers, TV spots and cast and crew interviews—is not so good and pixilation occurs throughout. The interviews are provocative enough, though, giving huge insight into the film. And it's quite something to see Smith looking all "Clark Kent" in his civvies. —Paul Eisinger

Lawrence Kasdan One of Stephen King's most shapeless, all-but-the-kitchen-sink novels, Dreamcatcher is wrestled by overqualified director-writer Lawrence Kasdan and cowriter William Goldman into an equally shapeless, slightly more entertaining big-budget schlock movie. Mind-reading psychiatrist Thomas Jane, back-from-the-dead road accident victim Damian Lewis, slacker toothpick-chewer Jason Lee and psychic car salesman Timothy Olyphant are King-style thirtysomething buddies who might also evoke Kasdan's The Big Chill, bonded forever by a flashback psychic experience that logically took place in 1983 but with the Stand By Me haircuts, music and milieu of King's own childhood.

On a weekend retreat in the snowy Maine woods, the quartet run into an alien incursion that begins ominously, with animals fleeing the forest but then throws in enough phenomena for a whole season of The X-Files with leftovers that could kit out a video nasty, notably toothy worm parasites memorably named "shit weasels" and a giant ET that turns to red powder and possesses Lewis. Mad militarist Morgan Freeman shows up and claustrophobic lost-in-the-woods business is diluted by a helicopter attack on a downed flying saucer and an internment camp for red-blotched infectees, while the plot boils down to something as simple as a race to prevent a worm from being dropped in a reservoir (which will end the world).

On a scene-by-scene basis, it's entertaining and creepy so long as you don't think too hard about details, like why someone charged with trapping an alien by sitting clamped on the toilet lid would risk reaching down onto a bloody floor to get a toothpick or why the aliens didn't just land by the reservoir in the first place. —Kim Newman

David Lynch David Lynch's Dune is the brilliant but fatally flawed would-be epic feature film version of Frank Herbert's novel of the same name, the bestselling science fiction novel ever written. It is a complex but too heavily simplified version of a far more elaborate book, a darkly Gothic far future space opera revolving around an imperial, dynastic power struggle on the desert planet of Arrakis. With what was in 1984 an enormous $40 million budget, Lynch retained a surprising amount of the industrial/Victorian feel of his previous features, Eraserhead (1976) and The Elephant Man (1980), and was able to bring to the screen some of the most imaginative and awe-inspiring production designs, costumes and action then seen. Indeed, as a spectacularly atmospheric vision of the future Dune has as much to recommend it as the far more celebrated Blade Runner (1982), with which it even shares the female romantic lead, Sean Young—here just one star in a superb cast. The problem, which an unauthorised extended TV version failed to fix, is that Lynch's original vision of Dune was massively cut for length, and as such the final third is so rapidly paced as to undermine the superb first two thirds. A director's cut is sorely needed, the cinema version playing like a butchered masterpiece. Also available is an entirely unconnected four-and-a-half-hour mini-series, Frank Herbert's Dune (2000), which is less visionary but more coherent.

On the DVD: The 2.35:1 image suffers from not being anamorphically enhanced. There are minor flecks of dirt and scratches, but generally the print used is in good condition although there is a considerable amount of grain in some scenes and the image could be more detailed. The packaging claims the sound is Dolby Digital 5.1, but it is actually three-channel sound (stereo plus centre speaker), with the main stereo feed being duplicated in the rear channels. A full 5.1 remastering would improve matters considerably. Special features consist of the original trailer and a pointless gallery of seven badly cropped stills. There is a very basic animated and scored menu using the portentous main theme music from the film. —Gary S Dalkin

Jean-Jacques Annaud Enemy at the Gates opens with a pivotal event of World War II—the German invasion of Stalingrad—recreated in Saving Private Ryan-like epic scale as ill-trained Russian soldiers face German attack or punitive execution if they flee from the enemy's advance. Director Jean-Jacques Annaud captures this madness with urgent authenticity, creating a massive context for a more intimate battle waged amidst the city's ruins. Embellished from its basis in fact, the story shifts to an intense cat-and-mouse game between a Russian shepherd raised to iconic fame, and a German marksman whose skill is unmatched in its lethal precision. Vassily Zaitzev (Jude Law) has been sniping Nazis one bullet at a time, while the German Major Konig (Ed Harris) has been assigned to kill Vassily and spare Hitler from further embarrassment. There's love in this war, too, as Vassily connects with a woman soldier (Rachel Weisz), but she is also loved by Danilov (Joseph Fiennes), the Soviet officer who promotes his friend Vassily as Russia's much-needed hero. This romantic rivalry lends marginal interest to the central plot, but it's not enough to make this a classic war film. Instead it's a taut, well-made suspense thriller isolated within an epic battle, and although Annaud and cowriter Alain Godard (drawing from William Craig's book and David L Robbins' novel The War of the Rats) fail to connect the parallel plots with any lasting impact, the production is never less than impressive. Highly conventional but handled with intelligence and superior craftsmanship, this is warfare as strategic entertainment, without compromising warfare as a man-made hell on Earth. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

On the DVD: with a choice of Dolby 5.1 or DTS the sound is suitably spectacular (James Horner's Prokofiev-inspired score comes up well amid whizzing bullets and explosions), while the 2.35:1 anamorphic picture makes the best of the epic battle sequences. "Through the Crosshairs" is a standard 20-minute behind-the-scenes documentary, which is complemented by "Inside Enemy at the Gates", a 15-minute montage of interviews with the stars and director. There's also a 25-minute French-made documentary (with English subtitles) about the real battle that includes a short interview with the real Vassily Zaitsev. Eight brief deleted scenes can be played separately or neatly inserted into the movie by pressing Enter when the gun sight icon appears on screen. The commentary by director Jean-Jacques Annaud is as informative as might be expected from a director who always seems passionate about his film projects. Storyboards, posters, a trailer and filmographies round out an excellent disc package. —Mark Walker

John Woo At his best, director John Woo turns action movies into ballets of blood and bullets grounded in character drama. Face/Off marks Woo's first American film to reach the pitched level of his best Hong Kong work (Hard-Boiled). He takes a patently absurd premise—hero and villain exchange identities by literally swapping faces in science-fiction plastic surgery—and creates a double-barrelled revenge film driven by the split psyches of its newly redefined characters. FBI agent Sean Archer (John Travolta) must play the villain to move through the underworld while psychotic terrorist Castor Troy (Nicolas Cage) becomes a perversely paternal family man, while using every tool at his disposal to destroy his nemesis. Travolta vamps Cage's tics and flamboyant excess with the grace of a dancer after his transformation from cop to criminal, while Cage plays the sullen, bottled-up agent excruciatingly trapped behind the face of the man who killed his son. His attempts to live up to the terrorist's reputation become cathartic explosions of violence that both thrill and terrify him. This is merely icing on the cake for action fans, the dramatic backbone for some of the most visceral action thrills ever. Woo fills the screen with one show-stopping set-piece after another, bringing a poetic grace to the action freakout with sweeping camerawork and sophisticated editing. This marriage of melodrama and mayhem ups the ante from cops-and-robbers clichés to a conflict of near-mythic levels. —Sean Axmaker

Joel Schumacher Falling Down, about a downsized engineer (Michael Douglas) who goes ballistic, triggered a media avalanche of stories in the USA about middle-class white rage when it was released in 1993. In fact, it's nothing more than a manipulative, violent melodrama about one geek's meltdown. Douglas, complete with pocket protector, nerd glasses, crewcut and short-sleeved white shirt, gets stuck in traffic one day near downtown LA and proceeds to just walk away from his car—and then lose it emotionally. Everyone he encounters rubs him the wrong way—and a fine lot of stereotypes they are, from threatening ghetto punks to rude convenience store owners to a creepy white supremacist—and he reacts violently in every case. As he walks across LA (now there's a concept), cutting a bloody swath, he's being tracked by a cop on the verge of retirement (Robert Duvall). He also spends time on the phone with his frightened ex-wife (Barbara Hershey). Though Douglas and Duvall give stellar performances, they can't disguise the fact that, as usual, this is another film from director Joel Schumacher that is about surface and sensation, rather than actual substance. —Marshall Fine

Rob Cohen A guilty pleasure with excess horsepower, The Fast and the Furious efficiently combines time-honoured male fantasies (hot cars, hot women, hot action) into a vacuous plot of crystalline purity. It's trash, but it's fun trash, in which a hotshot Los Angeles cop named Brian (Paul Walker) infiltrates a gang of street racers suspected of fencing stolen goods from hijacked trucks. The gang leader is Dom (Vin Diesel), ex-con and reigning king of the street racers, who lives for those 10 seconds of freedom when his high-performance "rice rocket" (a highly modified Asian import) hurtles toward another quarter-mile victory. Racing is street theatre for a lawless youth subculture, and Dom is a star behind the wheel—charismatic, dangerous and protective toward his sister Mia (Jordana Brewster), who's attracted to Brian as the newest member of Dom's car-crazy team.

Director Rob Cohen treats this like Roman tragedy for MTV junkies, pushing every scene to adrenaline-pumping extremes; when his camera isn't caressing a spectrum of nitrous oxide-enhanced dream machines, it's ogling countless slim 'n' sexy race babes. The undercover-cop scenario cheaply borrows the split-loyalty theme perfected in Donnie Brasco; a rival Asian gang adds mystery and menace; and digital trickery is cleverly employed to explore the fuel-injected innards of the day-glo racecars. It's about as substantial as a perfume ad, but just as alluring, and for heavy-metal maniacs of any age, Diesel's super-blown 69 Charger proves that Detroit muscle never goes out of style. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

On the DVD: Appropriately bulging with macho extra features, this disc is introduced with a stirring lack of irony by a Public Service Announcement exhorting viewers not to take proceedings too seriously! The meat of the many special features are found in deconstructions of several special effects sequences, with multiple camera-angle views and a breakdown of the process by which composite shots are achieved from separate plates. There are also eight deleted or extended scenes with optional directorial commentary. The main feature commentary is surprisingly in-depth and absorbing, as Rob Cohen talks about every aspect of his up-to-date "Western with rice rockets". Other features include music videos (one of which has its lyrics censored), a standard 18-minute "making-of" featurette and, fascinatingly, a short five-minute peek at the editing process as the director and film editor strive to cut a violent scene and thereby guarantee that all-important PG-13 rating (so that young kids who can't drive will be able to watch the movie and learn about speed, the director says with a straight face). And with a choice of explosive Dolby 5.1 or DTS you, and your long-suffering neighbours, will feel like you're right in the midst of the action. —Mark Walker

Terry Gilliam

David Fincher All films require a certain suspension of disbelief, Fight Club perhaps more than others; but if you're willing to let yourself get caught up in the anarchy, this film, based on the novel by Chuck Palahniuk, is a modern-day morality play warning of the decay of society. Edward Norton is the unnamed protagonist, a man going through life on cruise control, feeling nothing. To fill his hours, he begins attending support groups and 12-step meetings. True, he isn't actually afflicted with the problems, but he finds solace in the groups. This is destroyed, however, when he meets Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), also faking her way through groups. Spiralling back into insomnia, Norton finds his life is changed once again, by a chance encounter with Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), whose forthright style and no-nonsense way of taking what he wants appeal to our narrator. Tyler and the protagonist find a new way to feel release: they fight. They fight each other, and then as others are attracted to their ways, they fight the men who come to join their newly formed Fight Club. Marla begins a destructive affair with Tyler, and things fly out of control, as Fight Club is transformed into a nationwide fascist group.

The depiction of violence in Fight Club is unflinching, but director David Fincher's film is captivating and beautifully shot, with camerawork and effects that are almost as startling as the script. The movie is packed with provocative ideas and images—from the satirical look at the emptiness of modern consumerism to quasi-Nietzschean concepts of "beyond good and evil"—that will leave the viewer with much food for thought to take away. Pitt and Norton are an unbeatable duo, and the film has a great sense of humour too. Even if it leaves you with a sense of profound discomfort this is a movie that you'll have to see again and again, if for no other reason than to just to take it all in. —Jenny Brown, Amazon.com

David Fincher All films require a certain suspension of disbelief, Fight Club perhaps more than others; but if you're willing to let yourself get caught up in the anarchy, this film, based on the novel by Chuck Palahniuk, is a modern-day morality play warning of the decay of society. Edward Norton is the unnamed protagonist, a man going through life on cruise control, feeling nothing. To fill his hours, he begins attending support groups and 12-step meetings. True, he isn't actually afflicted with the problems, but he finds solace in the groups. This is destroyed, however, when he meets Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), also faking her way through groups. Spiralling back into insomnia, Norton finds his life is changed once again, by a chance encounter with Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), whose forthright style and no-nonsense way of taking what he wants appeal to our narrator. Tyler and the protagonist find a new way to feel release: they fight. They fight each other, and then as others are attracted to their ways, they fight the men who come to join their newly formed Fight Club. Marla begins a destructive affair with Tyler, and things fly out of control, as Fight Club is transformed into a nationwide fascist group.

The depiction of violence in Fight Club is unflinching, but director David Fincher's film is captivating and beautifully shot, with camerawork and effects that are almost as startling as the script. The movie is packed with provocative ideas and images—from the satirical look at the emptiness of modern consumerism to quasi-Nietzschean concepts of "beyond good and evil"—that will leave the viewer with much food for thought to take away. Pitt and Norton are an unbeatable duo, and the film has a great sense of humour too. Even if it leaves you with a sense of profound discomfort this is a movie that you'll have to see again and again, if for no other reason than to just to take it all in. —Jenny Brown, Amazon.com

David R. Ellis

James Wong (IV) While hardly a spiritual upgrade of the slasher film, this high-concept teen body-count thriller drops hints of The Sixth Sense into the smart-alec sensibility of Scream. Helmed by X Files veteran James Wong, who co-wrote the screenplay with long-time creative partner Glen Morgan, Final Destination is an often entertaining thriller marked by an unsettling sense of unease and scenes of eerie imagery. It suffers, however, from a schizophrenic tone and a frankly ludicrous premise. A high school Cassandra, Alex Browning (Devon Sawa of Idle Hands), wakes from a pre-flight nightmare and panics when he is convinced the plane is doomed. His ruckus bumps seven passengers from the Paris-bound plane, which immediately explodes into a fireball on takeoff, but fate hasn't finished with these lucky few and, one by one, death claims them. Wong brings such a funereal tone to these early scenes of survivor's guilt and inevitable doom that the already far-fetched film threatens to veer into unplanned absurdity. Thankfully, the tale loosens up with a playful morgue humour: one of the victims winds up the splattered punch line to a grim joke and elaborate Rube Goldbergesque chains of cause and effect become inspired spectacles of destruction. Final Destination is a pretty silly thriller when it takes itself seriously, and the filmmakers play fast and loose with their own rules of fate, but once they stick their tongues firmly in cheek, the film takes off with a screwy interpretation of the domino effect of doom. —Sean Axmaker

On the DVD: A superb commentary from writer Jeffrey Reddick, director James Wong and producer Glen Morgan goes into great detail about the film's background. From the team's involvement with The X-Files through to the fight to keep their title "Flight 180", they're pretty candid about the movie's secrets (cameos and character names) and bringing "Death" to life. There are also eight minutes of deleted scenes from an expunged sub-plot that led to their original ending. The explanation for its rejection comes in a 13-minute featurette ("The Perfect Souffle"), which demonstrates the result of Hollywood's reliance on test screenings. There's a trailer, cast and crew biographies and two games——"Your Psychic Eye" and "Death Clock"—which are scary enough by themselves. Rounding this exceptional extras package off is a 20-minute featurette on real-life premonitions. —Paul Tonks

Marc Forster Sweetness that doesn't turn saccharine is hard to find these days; Finding Neverland hits the mark. Much credit is due to the actors: Johnny Depp applies his genius for sly whimsy in his portrayal of playwright J. M. Barrie, who finds inspiration for his greatest creation from four lively boys, the sons of widow Sylvia Llewelyn Davies (Kate Winslet, who miraculously fuses romantic yearning with common sense). Though the friendship threatens his already dwindling marriage, Barrie spends endless hours with the boys, pretending to be pirates or Indians—and gradually the elements of Peter Pan take shape in his mind. The relationship between Barrie and the Llewelyn Davies family sparks both an imagined world and a quiet rebellion against the stuffy forces of respectability, given physical form by Barrie's resentful wife (Radha Mitchell, High Art) and Sylvia's mother (Julie Christie, McCabe and Mrs. Miller). This gentle silliness could have turned to treacle, but Depp and Winslet—along with newcomer Freddie Highmore as one of the boys—keep their feet on the earth while their eyes gaze into their dreams. Also featuring a comically crusty turn from Dustin Hoffman (who appeared in another Peter Pan-themed movie, Hook) as a long-suffering theater producer. —Bret Fetzer

Much praised and much missed after its premature cancellation, Firefly is the first SF TV series to be conceived by Joss Whedon, creator of Buffy and cocreator of Angel. Set five centuries in the future, it is a show where the mysterious personal pasts of the crew of the tramp spaceship Serenity continually surface. In fact, it's a Western in space where the losers in a Civil War are heading out to a barren frontier. Mal Reynolds is a man embittered by the war, yet whose love of his comrades perpetually dents his cynicism—even in the 14 episodes that exist we see him warm to the bubbly young mechanic Kaylee, the preacher Book, the idealistic doctor Simon, even to the often demented River, Simon's sister, the psychic result of malign experiments.

Firefly is also about adult emotional relationships, for example Kaylee's crush on Simon, the happy marriage of Mal's second officer Zoe and the pilot Wash, the disastrous erotic stalemate between Mal and the courtesan Inara. Individual episodes deal with capers going vaguely wrong, or threats narrowly circumvented; character and plot arcs were starting to emerge when the show was cancelled. Fortunately, the spin-off movie Serenity ties up some of the ends; and in the meantime, what there is of Firefly is a show to marvel at, both for its tight writing and ensemble acting, and the idiocy of the executives who cancelled it.

On the DVD: Firefly on DVD is presented in anamorphic 1.78:1 with Dolby Surround Sound. It includes commentaries on six episodes by various writers, directors, designers and cast members as well as featurettes on the conception of the show and the design of the spaceship Serenity, four deleted scenes, a gag reel, and Joss Whedon singing the show's theme tune, more or less. One of the things that emerges from all of this is how committed to the project everyone involved with it was, and is—unusually, you end up caring as much for the cast and crew as for the characters.

Ridley Scott Ridley Scott's glossy historical epic Gladiator revitalised the classic sword 'n' sandal genre, bringing both a modern pop-culture sensibility and state-of-the-art computer-generated special effects to what had seemed like a worn-out formula. Essentially a remake of Anthony Mann's stodgy 1964 Fall of the Roman Empire, Gladiator also borrows heavily from Saving Private Ryan in its stunning opening sequence, and employs Ridley's brother Tony Scott's rapid-fire editing style for the remarkably staged Colosseum fights. The overall effect is a hugely impressive but emotionally empty spectacle complemented by Hans Zimmer's bestselling but derivative score.

Russell Crowe cements his star status with a brooding, muscular performance helped along by lots of pithily quotable mock-Shakespearean dialogue. But Crowe's Maximus, along with everyone else in the film, is a disappointing two-dimensional stereotype: there's also the ridiculously melodramatic villain (Joaquin Phoenix), the old flame who's still in love with her hero (Connie Nielsen) and the trusty companion (Djimon Hounsou—who seems stuck in these roles). Richard Harris lacks the gravitas to convince as the philosopher-king Marcus Aurelius, and only Oliver Reed, in his very last film, brings some depth to his world-weary ex-gladiator. Still, if Scott's film lacks the profundity of Ben-Hur, Spartacus or even Cleopatra, it remains a kinetic, exciting thrill ride that gives us some sense of what it must have been like to fight and die with a gladius in hand.

On the DVD: Gladiator's two-disc set quickly became a must-have on its first release and remains one of the absolute essential DVD purchases. It set the standard both for picture and sound quality (Dolby 5.1 or DTS) as well as providing a second disc fully loaded with excellent special features. Scott's audio commentary is on the first disc, and the second has documentaries about both the history and the film, deleted scenes, storyboards, hidden "Easter Eggs" and more. —Mark Walker

Dominic Sena Gone in 60 Seconds opens on Kip Raines (Giovanni Ribisi), a cocky young car thief working with a crew to steal 50 cars for a very bad man whose nickname is "The Carpenter". Being young and cocky, Kip messes up, so it's up to his big brother, Randall "Memphis" Raines (Nicolas Cage), to come out of car-thief retirement and save him. With a cast that includes Robert Duvall, Angelina Jolie, Delroy Lindo, Cage and Ribisi, it would be easy to say this story wastes all their talents—which it does, but that's not the point. This is a Jerry Bruckheimer film. A good story and complex characters would only get in the way of the action scenes and slow the movie down. No, Gone in 60 Seconds (based on the cult 1974 film of the same name) is not about the stars as much as it's about cars. Fast cars. Rare cars. Wrecked cars. All cars. Too bad director Dominic Sena (Kalifornia) doesn't come across as more of a gearhead; he seems less interested in fast cars than fast cuts. But is this movie fun? Absolutely, and it's fun because it's so stupid. With pointless car chases and hackneyed dialogue in one of the most predictable plots of the year, Gone in 60 Seconds is a comic film that's not quite a parody of itself, but darn close. —Andy Spletzer, Amazon.com

Martin Scorsese Martin Scorsese's 1990 masterpiece GoodFellas immortalises the hilarious, horrifying life of actual gangster Henry Hill (Ray Liotta), from his teen years on the streets of New York to his anonymous exile under the Witness Protection Program. The director's kinetic style is perfect for recounting Hill's ruthless rise to power in the 1950s as well as his drugged-out fall in the late 1970s; in fact, no one has ever rendered the mental dislocation of cocaine better than Scorsese. Scorsese uses period music perfectly, not just to summon a particular time but to set a precise mood. GoodFellas is at least as good as The Godfather without being in the least derivative of it. Joe Pesci's psycho improvisation of Mobster Tommy DeVito ignited Pesci as a star; Lorraine Bracco achieves a career-defining performance as the love of Hill's life; and every supporting role, from Paul Sorvino to Robert De Niro, is a miracle.

Ridley Scott Yes, he's back ... and he's still hungry. Hannibal is set 10 years after The Silence of the Lambs, as Dr Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter (Anthony Hopkins, reprising his Oscar-winning role) is living the good life in Italy, studying art and sipping espresso. FBI agent Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore, replacing Jodie Foster), on the other hand, hasn't had it so good—an outsider from the start, she's now a quiet, moody loner who doesn't play bureaucratic games and suffers for it. A botched drug raid results in her demotion—and a request from Lecter's only living victim, Mason Verger (Gary Oldman, uncredited), for a little Q and A. Little does Clarice realise that the hideously deformed Verger—who, upon suggestion from Dr Lecter, peeled off his own face—is using her as bait to lure Dr Lecter out of hiding, quite certain he'll capture the good doctor.

Taking the basic plot contraptions from Thomas Harris's baroque novel, Hannibal is so stylistically different from its predecessor that it forces you to take it on its own terms. Director Ridley Scott gives the film a sleek, almost European look that lets you know that, unlike the first film (which was about the quintessentially American Clarice), this movie is all Hannibal. Does it work? Yes—but only up to a point. Scott adeptly sets up an atmosphere of foreboding, but it's all a build-up to the anticlimax, as Verger's plot for abducting Hannibal (and feeding him to man-eating wild boars) doesn't really deliver the requisite visceral thrills, and the much-ballyhooed climatic dinner sequence between Clarice, Dr Lecter and a third, unlucky guest wobbles between parody and horror. Hopkins and Moore are both first-rate, but the film contrives to keep them as far apart as possible, when what made Silence of the Lambs so amazing was their interaction. When they do connect it's quite thrilling but it's unfortunately too little too late. —Mark Englehart, Amazon.com

On the DVD: The good-looking widescreen (1.85:1) anamorphic print is accompanied by a directorial commentary on the first disc. Ridley Scott is no stranger to DVD commentaries by now, and keeps up a pretty constant flow of enjoyable story exposition, although provides few specifics about the actual filmmaking process. He's obviously more than happy to talk about this movie, since on the second disc there are also "Ridleygram" interviews with Scott about the process of storyboarding and a huge chunk of deleted or alternate scenes (including the alternate ending) with optional directorial commentary. There's a wealth of other extras to dip into, including five "making-of" featurettes (73 minutes in all), plus two multi-angle "vignettes" of the film's opening sequences (the fish-market shoot-out and opening titles), and a marketing gallery of trailers, stills and artwork. Surround-sound enthusiasts can select either Dolby 5.1 or DTS soundtracks for the main feature. —Mark Walker

Brett Ratner, Ridley Scott Based on Thomas Harris's novel, Jonathan Demme's terrifying adaptation of Silence of the Lambs contains only a couple of genuinely shocking moments (one involving an autopsy, the other a prison break). The rest of the film is a splatter-free visual and psychological descent into the hell of madness, redeemed astonishingly by an unlikely connection between a monster and a haunted young woman. Anthony Hopkins is extraordinary as the cannibalistic psychiatrist Dr Hannibal Lecter; Jodie Foster is equally memorable as the vulnerable FBI agent-in-training Clarice Starling. —Tom Keogh

Hannibal is set 10 years after Silence of the Lambs, as Dr Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter (Anthony Hopkins, reprising his Oscar-winning role) is living the good life in Italy, studying art and sipping espresso. FBI agent Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore replaces Jodie Foster), on the other hand, hasn't had it so good. The film is so stylistically different from its predecessor that it forces you to take it on its own terms. Director Ridley Scott gives the film a sleek, almost European look that lets you know that, unlike the first film (which was about the quintessentially American Clarice), this movie is all Hannibal. Hopkins and Moore are both first-rate, but the film contrives to keep them as far apart as possible. When they do connect it's quite thrilling but it's unfortunately too little too late. —Mark Englehart

Anthony Hopkins returns as Hannibal Lecter in Red Dragon, a prequel to The Silence of the Lambs and a remake of 1986's Manhunter, Michael Mann's fine film of Thomas Harris's terrific book, in which Brian Cox carved the ham thinner as a more menacing, less hokey cannibal. This film beefs up Lecter's role, as FBI agent Will Graham (Edward Norton) consults Lecter on the Tooth Fairy case, which means some pointed and familiar conversations, and the film then shifts focus from the investigation to the life and troubles of the mad and murderous but also abused and sympathetic Francis Dolarhyde (Ralph Fiennes, with a major tattoo and a harelip). It's hard not to compare the current cast with Mann's excellent players. Still, Red Dragon is a solid film of great material, with all the sudden shocks and disturbing whispers in places. —Kim Newman

J.K. Amalou

Michael Mann Having developed his skill as a master of contemporary crime drama, writer-director Michael Mann displayed every aspect of that mastery in Heat, an intelligent, character-driven thriller from 1995, which also marked the first onscreen pairing of Robert De Niro and Al Pacino. The two great actors had played father and son in the separate time periods of The Godfather, Part II, but this was the first film in which the pair appeared together, and although their only scene together is brief, it's the riveting fulcrum of this high-tech cops-and-robbers scenario. De Niro plays a master thief with highly skilled partners (Val Kilmer and Tom Sizemore) whose latest heist draws the attention of Pacino, playing a seasoned Los Angeles detective whose investigation reveals that cop and criminal lead similar lives. Both are so devoted to their professions that their personal lives are a disaster. Pacino's with a wife (Diane Venora) who cheats to avoid the reality of their desolate marriage; De Niro pays the price for a life with no outside connections; and Kilmer's wife (Ashley Judd) has all but given up hope that her husband will quit his criminal career. These are men obsessed, and as De Niro and Pacino know, they'll both do whatever's necessary to bring the other down.

Mann's brilliant screenplay explores these personal obsessions and sacrifices with absorbing insight, and the tension mounts with some of the most riveting action sequences ever filmed—most notably a daylight siege that turns downtown Los Angeles into a virtual war zone of automatic gunfire. At nearly three hours, Heat qualifies as a kind of intimate epic, certain to leave some viewers impatiently waiting for more action, but it's all part of Mann's compelling strategy. Heat is a true rarity: a crime thriller with equal measures of intense excitement and dramatic depth, giving De Niro and Pacino a prime showcase for their finely matched talents. —Jeff Shannon

Gary Hustwit

Nick Hamm Despite copious swearing and a corporate rock soundtrack, The Hole might, more appropriately, have begun with a title sequence of silhouettes cavorting in front of a fiery backdrop; it owes far more to Tales of the Unexpected than the slick US teen movies (I Know What You Did Last Summer, The Faculty) it tries so hard to imitate. This British horror flick displays the same cheap production values as the 1970's series, but rather than staying within the confines of a half-hour TV slot, The Hole stretches its thin, but promising, premise over 90 minutes.

Based on Guy Burt's novel, the story follows three rich kids from an exclusive English boarding school who avoid their school field trip by hiding out in an underground bunker. Liz (a suitably embarrassed Thora Birch) tags along for the ride in the hope that she may consummate her crush on Mike Steel (Desmond Harrington), the school's resident American hipster. They are then left imprisoned, which should be the cue for The Breakfast Club Goes Insane but isn't, as director Nick Hamm eschews the straightforward in favour of clumsy flashbacks and contrived plot twists, robbing the film of any tension or shock and turning it into a tiresome stretch in the company of four very disagreeable stereotypes.

The Hole is a witless movie, entirely lacking the self-referential humour and technical skill of its better American counterparts. If you want classic British horror, try Peeping Tom or The Wicker Man instead. The Hole is a movie that may be set deep underground, but ultimately it's a very shallow experience.

On the DVD: the extras add nothing to this movie. The theatrical trailer and widescreen 2.35:1 ratio come as standard. Of the nine deleted scenes the original coda for the end of the movie is the only one worth seeing purely because it is so ludicrous. Director Hamm's po-faced commentary sheds little illumination into this deep, dark hole. —Tom Nash

Peter Collinson The greatest Brit-flick crime caper comedy of all time, 1969's The Italian Job towers mightily above its latter-day mockney imitators. After Alfie but before Get Carter Michael Caine is the hippest ex-con around, bedding the birds (several at a time) and spouting immortal one-liners ("You're only supposed to blow the bloody doors off!"). The inheritor of a devious plan to steal gold bullion in the traffic-choked streets of Turin, Caine recruits a misfit team of genial underworld types—including a lecherous Benny Hill and three plummy public-schoolboy rally drivers—and uses the occasion of an England-Italy football match as cover for the heist.

In his final screen appearance, Noel Coward joyfully sends up his own patriotic persona, and there are small though priceless cameos from the likes of Irene Handl and John Le Mesurier. But The Italian Job's real stars are the three Mini Coopers—patriotically decorated red, white and blue—that run rings round every other vehicle in an immortal car-chase sequence, which preserves forever the British public's love affair with the little car. Quincy Jones provided the irreverent music, naturally, while the cliffhanger ending thumbs its nose at anything so un-hip as a resolution. It's all unashamedly jingoistic—ridiculously, gleefully, absurdly so—but the whole sums up the joie de vivre of the 1960s so perfectly that future historians need only look here to learn why the decade was swinging.

On the DVD: The Italian Job disc contains three all-new documentaries——"The Great Idea" (conception), "The Self-Preservation Society" (casting), and "Get a Bloomin' Move On" (stunts)—which dovetail into a good 68-minute "making of" featurette. Contributors include scriptwriter Troy Kennedy Martin and Producer Michael Deeley, who also crops up on the sporadically interesting commentary track with author of The Making of The Italian Job, Matthew Field. The deleted "Blue Danube" waltz scene is also included, with optional commentary. The print is a decent anamorphic transfer of the original 2.35:1 ratio, and the soundtrack has been remastered to Dolby 5.1. The animated Mini Cooper menus set the tone perfectly. —Mark Walker

John Glen

Guy Hamilton

Lee Tamahori

Terence Young

John Glen

Terence Young

Martin Campbell The film that marked the successful rebirth of the 007 franchise, which had laid dormant for over half a decade, GoldenEye remains Pierce Brosnan's finest moment as Britain's most famous secret agent.

The plot? This one involves the Russian mafia, a rogue agent and a powerful satellite, although realistically it's the standard 007 formula at work. Thus, there's gadgets, girls and plenty of action, with the plot trying to squeeze in where there's room.

There are several reasons though why GoldenEye works so well. Firstly, it successfully ushered in a new cast, with Judi Dench's M, Samantha Bond's Moneypenny and Robbie Coltrane's Valentin Zukovsky all marking their 007 movie debut. Then, the baddies are strong, although Sean Bean's ruthless 006 is overshadowed by Famke Janssen's career-making performance as Xenia Onatopp. And then there's that vital 007 ingredient—the action. From a stunning pre-credits sequence, which is arguably the film's highlight, through to several high-tempo action moments throughout the rest of the film, it's highly enjoyable stuff, and impossible to resist.

Finally, there's Brosnan. Arguably the most successful Bond since Sean Connery defined the role, his laid back, hard-edged charm serves him well, and he never looked more comfortable as 007 as he does in his maiden outing.

In short, GoldenEye is not only a terrific Bond movie, it's a strong action movie full stop. —Jon Foster

Guy Hamilton

Guy Hamilton

Lewis Gilbert

John Glen

Peter R. Hunt

John Glen

Guy Hamilton

Lewis Gilbert

Michael Apted

Terence Young

Roger Spottiswoode

Lewis Gilbert

Jimmy Carr, Dominic Brigstocke

Quentin Tarantino Proudly billed as "the fourth film by Quentin Tarantino", Kill Bill, Volume 1 is actually half of it (if you include his chunk of Four Rooms it's really the fourth and a quarterth). If Jackie Brown achieved a certain maturity beyond callous cool, then this is his Mr Hyde's trash picture, which relishes all the things in cinema that are supposed to be bad for you. The opening Shaw Brothers logo and cheesy "our feature presentation" card, redolent of rancid Kia-Ora and stale Wrestlers, sets this up as defiantly a movie-geek's movie, whose touchstones are spaghetti Westerns, comic books, kung fu/samurai quickies and second-hand vinyl albums. If Kill Bill was a dog-eared paperback, it'd be confiscated by a teacher.

Tarantino's favoured flashback-and-forth structure means we begin with a shuffle between past and present as the Bride with No Name (Uma Thurman) is shown being apparently murdered at the climax of a Texas wedding chapel massacre and alive again tracking down the second person on her to-kill list. The bulk of the film takes place between these plot points as the Bride carries a vengeance feud to the first of her enemies, yakuza queenpin O-Ren Ishii (Lucy Liu). Like its soundtrack—everything from Nancy Sinatra to the RZA, with the Green Hornet theme along the way—it—it's an eclectic picture, with sequences done as a gruesome anime, particularly genocidal stretches in black and white, and segues from cheerful kung fu massacre to Kurosawa-look poised duelling. Tarantino holds back on his trademark motormouth pop culture references; in fact, much of the film is in sub-titled Japanese.

You have to lock your brain into trash-film mode to get the most out of it, but its cliffhanger fade-out—unlike the dispiriting "to be continued" at the end of Matrix Reloaded—makes you want to come back. It's not a spoiler to reveal that Bill (a barely glimpsed David Carradine) hasn't been killed yet, and Thurman needs to take out Daryl Hannah and Michael Madsen before she gets to him. —Kim Newman

Quentin Tarantino "The Bride" (Uma Thurman) gets her satisfaction—and so do we—in Quentin Tarantino's "roaring rampage of revenge", Kill Bill, Vol. 2. Where Vol. 1 was a hyper-kinetic tribute to the Asian chop-socky grindhouse flicks that have been thoroughly cross-referenced in Tarantino's film-loving brain, Vol. 2—not a sequel, but Part Two of a breathtakingly cinematic epic—is Tarantino's contemporary martial-arts Western, fuelled by iconic images, music and themes lifted from any source that Tarantino holds dear, from the action-packed cheapies of William Witney (one of several filmmakers Tarantino gratefully honours in the closing credits) to the spaghetti epics of Sergio Leone. Tarantino doesn't copy so much as elevate the genres he loves, and the entirety of Kill Bill is clearly the product of a singular artistic vision, even as it careens from one influence to another. Violence erupts with dynamic impact, but unlike Vol. 1, this slower grand finale revels in Tarantino's trademark dialogue and loopy longueurs, reviving the career of David Carradine (who plays Bill for what he is: a snake charmer), and giving Thurman's Bride an outlet for maternal love and well-earned happiness. Has any actress endured so much for the sake of a unique collaboration? As the credits remind us, "The Bride" was jointly created by "Q&U", and she's become an unforgettable heroine in a pair of delirious movie-movies (Vol. 3 awaits, some 15 years hence) that Tarantino fans will study and love for decades to come. —Jeff Shannon

Luc Besson Luc Besson (The Fifth Element) made his American directorial debut with Leon, a stylised thriller about a French hit man (Jean Reno) who takes in an American girl (Natalie Portman) being pursued by a corrupt killer cop (Gary Oldman). Oldman is a little more unhinged than he should be, but there is something genuinely irresistible about the story line and the relationship between Reno and Portman. Rather than cave in to the cookie-cutter look and feel of American action pictures, Besson brings a bit of his glossy style from French hits La Femme Nikita and Subway to the production of The Professional, and the results are refreshing even if the bullets and explosions are awfully familiar.—Tom Keogh

Guy Ritchie Cockney boys Tom, Soap, Eddie and Bacon are in a bind; they owe seedy criminal and porn king "Hatchet" Harry a sizeable amount of cash after Eddie loses half a million in a rigged game of poker. Hot on their tails is a thug named Big Chris who intends to send them all to the hospital if they don't come up with the cash in the allotted time. Add into the mix an incompetent set of ganja cultivators, two dimwitted robbers, a "madman" with an afro, and a ruthless band of drug dealers and you have an astonishing movie called Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. Before the boys can blink, they are caught up in a labyrinth of double-crosses that lead to a multitude of dead bodies, copious amounts of drugs, and two antique rifles.

Written and directed by talented newcomer Guy Ritchie, this is one of those movies that was destined to become an instant cult classic à la Reservoir Dogs. Although some comparisons were drawn between Ritchie and Quentin Tarantino, it would be unfair to discount the brilliant wit of the story and the innovative camerawork that the director brings to his debut feature. Not since The Krays has there been such an accurate depiction of the East End and its more colourful characters. Indicative of the social stratosphere in London, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels is a hilarious and at times touching account of friendships and loyalty. The director and his mates (who make up most of the cast) clearly are enjoying themselves here. This comes across in some shining performances, in particular from ex-footballer Vinnie Jones (Big Chris) and an over-the-top Vas Blackwood (as Rory Breaker), who very nearly steals the show. Full of quirky vernacular and clever tension-packed action sequences, Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels is a triumph—a perfect blend of intelligence, humour and suspense. —Jeremy Storey

Paul Thomas Anderson A handful of people in California's San Fernando Valley are having one hell of a day. TV mogul Earl Partridge (Jason Robards) is on his deathbed and his trophy wife (Julianne Moore) is stockpiling tranquilliser prescriptions all over town with alarming determination. Earl's nurse (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is trying desperately to get in touch with Earl's only son, sex-guru Frank TJ Mackey (Tom Cruise), who's about to have his carefully constructed past blown by a TV reporter (April Grace). Whiz kid Stanley (Jeremy Blackman) is being goaded by his selfish dad into breaking the record for the game show What Do Kids Know? Meanwhile, Stanley's predecessor, the grown-up quiz kid Donnie Smith (William H. Macy) has lost his job and is nursing a severe case of unrequited love. And the host of What Do Kids Know?, the affable Jimmy Gator (Philip Baker Hall), like Earl, is dying of cancer, and his attempt to reconcile with his cokehead daughter (Melora Walters) fails miserably. She, meanwhile, is running hot and cold with a cop (John C. Reilly) who would love to date her, if she can sit still for long enough. And over it all, a foreboding sky threatens to pour something more than just rain.

This third feature from Paul Thomas Anderson (Boogie Nights) is a maddening, magnificent piece of film-making, and an ensemble film to rank with the best of Robert Altman (Short Cuts, Nashville)—every little piece of the film means something, solidly placed for a reason. Deftly juggling a breathtaking ensemble of actors, Anderson crafts a tale of neglectful parents, resentful children, and love-starved souls that's amazing in scope, both thematically and emotionally. Part of the charge of Magnolia is seeing exactly how many characters Anderson can juggle, and can he keep all those balls in the air (indeed he can, even if it means throwing frogs into the mix). And it's been far too long since we've seen a film-maker whose love of making movies is so purely joyful. This electric energy is reflected in the actors, from Cruise's revelatory performance to Reilly's quietly powerful turn as the moral centre of the story. While at three hours it's definitely not suited to everyone's taste, Magnolia is a compelling, heartbreaking, ultimately hopeful meditation on the accidents of chance that make up our lives. The soundtrack features eight wonderful songs by Aimee Mann, including "Save Me", around which Anderson built the script. —Mark Englehart

The Wachowski Brothers The Wachowski Brothers' The Matrix took the well-worn science fiction idea of virtual reality, added supercharged Hollywood gloss and stole The Phantom Menace's thunder as the must-see movie of the summer of 1999. Laced with Star Wars-like Eastern mysticism, and featuring thrilling martial arts action choreographed by Hong Kong action director Yuen Woo Ping (Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon), The Matrix restored Keanu Reeves to genre stardom, and made a star of Carrie-Anne Moss. Helping the film stand out from its rivals was the introduction of the now celebrated "bullet time" visual effects, though otherwise the war-against-the-machines story, hard-hitting style and kinetic set-pieces such as the corporate lobby shoot-out lean heavily on Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991).—Gary S Dalkin

The original feature-packed single-DVD release of The Matrix became one of the format's early bestsellers and a must-have purchase for every new DVD owner. In anticipation of The Matrix 2 the movie has been re-released in this two-disc set, which combines the original disc with a companion two-hour documentary, The Matrix Revisited, that covers each and every aspect of the making of this ground-breaking movie in enough detail to satisfy even the most demanding of fans. There are contributions from all the principal cast and crew, who guide us from the story's inception in the minds of the Wachowski brothers right through to the preparatory work for the next two instalments. Also on the disc are: a teaser montage of behind-the-scenes footage for the follow-up movies, a section on the newly commissioned Japanimation "Animatrix" features, fight choreographer Yuen Woo Ping's blocking tapes, a piece about the fans, a breakdown of the bathroom fight and wet-wall sequence, a plug for the Web site and DVD-ROM extras. If that's not enough, there are even hidden extra "Easter eggs", including one about the woman in the red dress. Plenty, in fact, to keep fans satisfied until the second instalment arrives in cinemas.—Mark Walker

John Schlesinger The first, and only, X-rated film to win a best picture Academy Award, John Schlesinger's Midnight Cowboy seems a lot less daring today (and has been reclassified as an R), but remains a fascinating time capsule of late-1960s sexual decadence in mainstream American cinema. In a career-making performance, Jon Voight plays Joe Buck, a naive Texas dishwasher who goes to the big city (New York) to make his fortune as a sexual hustler. Although enthusiastic about selling himself to rich ladies for stud services, he quickly finds it hard to make a living and eventually crashes in a seedy dump with a crippled petty thief named Ratzo Rizzo (Dustin Hoffman, doing one of his more effective "stupid acting tricks," with a limp and a high-pitch rasp of a voice). Schlesinger's quick-cut, semi-psychedelic style has dated severely, as has his ruthlessly cynical approach to almost everybody but the lead characters. But at its heart the movie is a sad tale of friendship between a couple of losers lost in the big city, and with an ending no studio would approve today. It's a bit like an urban Of Mice and Men, but where both guys are Lenny. —Jim Emerson

John Woo Visually stunning, and a likely must for John Woo aficionados, the second Mission: Impossible outing from megastar Tom Cruise suffers from an inconsistent tone and tired plot devices—not only recycled from other films, but repeated throughout the film. Despite remarkable cinematography and awe-inspiring, trademark Woo photography, the movie offers a tepid story from legendary screenwriter-director Robert Towne (Chinatown) and a host of other writers, most uncredited.

Following on from the set pieces in the first big-budget, big box-office MI in 1996, it's clear (as Towne confirms) that the plot was developed around Woo- and Cruise-written action sequences. The film combines equal elements of romance and action, and is best when it features the stunning allure of Thandie Newton as Nyah, a master thief recruited by the sinewy charms of Ethan Hunt (a fit Cruise). Deeply in love after a passionate night, the couple must then combat MI nemesis (and Nyah's former lover) Sean Ambrose (Ever After's Dougray Scott). Ambrose holds hostage a virus and its cure, and offers them to the highest bidder.

Woo's famed mythic film making is far from subtle, with heroic Hunt frequently slow-motion walking through fire, smoke or other similar devices, replete with a white dove among pigeons to signal his presence. The emphasis on romance is an attempt to develop character and a more human side to superspy Hunt, but still the story proves a distraction from the exciting action sequences. John Polson (as an MI team member) is an Aussie talent to keep an eye on. —N.F. Mendoza

M:I-2 DVD Extra Features

With more and more DVDs coming out with an extra DVD full of features at a slightly more expensive price, it's nice every so often to see a disc that offers not only a great movie, but a bundle of features on it as well.

The M:i-2 DVD does just this, and features not only the widescreen presentation, but also a number of behind-the-scenes footage, a spoof documentary, breakdowns of some of the stunts and even a music video to boot.

Although the breakdown of scenes has that "Tom really did do it all, honest" feel to it, some of the elements are genuinely interesting. The biggest surprise of all though is the inclusion of the six-minute spoof documentary that was done for the MTV awards with Ben Stiller. All in all, a well presented disc and set of extra features. —Stuart Miles

Marc Forster A harrowing portrayal of Deep South life in the 21st century, Monster's Ball hits you where it hurts most, in the complex realm of extreme human emotions. This is not a movie to pass the time on a Sunday afternoon. With intriguing juxtapositions and some of the best editing of recent times it has all the makings of a modern film noir, yet it's not only the men that end up on the wrong side of the track: pride and ill-fortune are the real femme fatales here.

Billy Bob Thornton is a death row officer whose redneck father has taught him that emotions make you weak, leading to an inability to love his son (Heath Ledger) and feel any compassion for the convicts in his care. When he loses a "loved one", he embarks on a relationship with the widow (Halle Berry) of a man whom he strapped in the electric chair, and the two of them search for comfort in sex, alcohol and chocolate ice-cream. The movie features fine turns from all actors involved, with Berry deservedly winning an Oscar for best actress and Ledger proving he is more than eye candy. Far from concluding the suffering, the ending leaves the viewer in an emotional void in which you will find yourself analysing your own shortcomings, prejudices and emotional ties. —Nikki Disney

Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones The second best comedy ever made, Monty Python and the Holy Grail must give precedence only to the same team's masterpiece, The Life of Brian (1979). Even though most of this film's set-pieces are now indelibly inscribed in every Python fan's psyche, as if by magic they never seem to pall. And they remain endlessly, joyfully quotable: from the Black Knight ("It's just a flesh wound"), to the constitutional peasants ("Come and see the violence inherent in the system!") and the taunting French soldier ("Your mother was a hamster and your father smelt of elderberries!"). Not forgetting of course the migratory habits of European and African swallows...

The film's mock-Arthurian narrative provides a sturdy framework for the jokes, and the authentic-looking production design is relentlessly and gloriously dirty. The miniscule budget turns out to be one of the film's greatest assets: Can't afford horses? Use coconuts instead. No money for special effects? Let Terry Gilliam animate. And so on, from Camelot ("it's only a model") to the rampaging killer rabbit glove puppet. True it's let down a little by a rushed ending, and the jokes lack the sting of Life of Brian's sharply observed satire, but Holy Grail is still timeless comedy that's surely destined for immortality.

On the DVD: Disc One contains a digitally remastered anamorphic (16:9) print of the film—which is still a little grainy, but a big improvement on previous video releases—with a splendidly remixed Dolby 5.1 soundtrack (plus an added 24 seconds of self-referential humour "absolutely free"!). There are two commentaries, one with the two Terrys, co-directors Jones and Gilliam, the other a splicing together of three separate commentaries by Michael Palin, John Cleese (in waspish, nit-picking mood) and Eric Idle. A "Follow the Killer Rabbit" feature provides access either to the Accountant's invoices or Gilliam's conceptual sketches. Subtitle options allow you to read the screenplay or watch with spookily appropriate captions from Shakespeare's Henry IV, Part II.

The second disc has lots more material, much of it very silly and inconsequential (an educational film on coconuts, the Camelot song in Lego and so on), plus a long-ish documentary from 2001 in which Palin and Jones revisit Doune Castle, Glencoe and other Scottish locations. Perhaps best of all, though, are the two scenes from the Japanese version with English subtitles, in which we see the search for the Holy sake cup, and the Ni-saying Knights who want... bonsai! —Mark Walker

Terry Gilliam, Terry Jones

Ian MacNaughton And Now for Something Completely Different, Monty Python's first feature, is a reworking of their best skits from the first two seasons of the TV series. Originally made for the US market (where the show had yet to be aired), it was shot on film outside the usual studio sets ("Nudge Nudge", for example, is set in a tavern filled with passers-by). The writing and performances are fine and the film is packed with some of their best bits: "How to Avoid Being Seen", " Hell's Grannies", "Blackmail", "The Lumberjack Song" and "The Upper Class Twit of the Year", among others. Many of the sketches have been shortened, however, and the loss of the overly bright video sheen (the film has a muddy, dull look to it) and the invigorating presence of a live audience leaves the film sluggish at times. They're still feeling out the possibilities of the feature length, which they conquered with their next movie, Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1974). —Sean Axmaker

Terry Jones There is not a single joke, sight-gag or one-liner in Monty Python's Life of Brian that will not forever burn itself into the viewer's memory as being just as funny as it is possible to be, but—extraordinarily—almost every indestructibly hilarious scene also serves a dual purpose, making this one of the most consistently sustained film satires ever made. Like all great satire, the Pythons not only attack and vilify their targets (the bigotry and hypocrisy of organised religion and politics) supremely well, they also propose an alternative: be an individual, think for yourself, don't be led by others. "You've all got to work it out for yourselves", cries Brian in a key moment. "Yes, we've all got to work it our for ourselves", the crowd reply en masse. Two thousand years later, in a world still blighted by religious zealots, Brian's is still a lone voice crying in the wilderness. Aside from being a neat spoof on the Hollywood epic, it's also almost incidentally one of the most realistic on-screen depictions of the ancient world—instead of treating their characters as posturing historical stereotypes, the Pythons realised what no sword 'n' sandal epic ever has: that people are all the same, no matter what period of history they live in. People always have and always will bicker, lie, cheat, swear, conceal cowardice with bravado (like Reg, leader of the People's Front of Judea), abuse power (like Pontius Pilate), blindly follow the latest fads and giggle at silly things ("Biggus Dickus"). In the end, Life of Brian teaches us that the only way for a despairing individual to cope in a world of idiocy and hypocrisy is to always look on the bright side of life.

On the DVD: Life of Brian returns to Region 2 DVD in a decent widescreen anamorphic print with Dolby 5.1 sound—neither are exactly revelatory, but at least it's an improvement on the previous release, which was, shockingly, pan & scan. The 50-minute BBC documentary, "The Pythons", was filmed mainly on location in 1979 and isn't especially remarkable or insightful (a new retrospective would have been appreciated). There are trailers for this movie, as well as Holy Grail plus three other non-Python movies. There's no commentary track, sadly. —Mark Walker

Monty Python This Monty Python Movie Box Set contains all four Python movies: And Now for Something Completely Different (1971), Monty Python and the Holy Grail (1974)—the two-disc set—Monty Python's Life of Brian—including a 50-minute documentary—and Monty Python's The Meaning of Life.

F. Gary Gray Although it eventually runs out of smart ideas and resorts to a typically explosive finale, this above-average thriller rises above its formulaic limitations on the strength of powerful performances by Samuel L Jackson and Kevin Spacey. Both play Chicago police negotiators with hotshot reputations, but when Jackson's character finds himself falsely accused of embezzling funds from a police pension fund, he's so thoroughly framed that he must take extreme measures to prove his innocence. He takes hostages in police headquarters to buy time and plan his strategy, demanding that Spacey be brought in to mediate with him as an army of cops threatens to attack, and a media circus ensues. Both negotiators know how to get into the other man's thoughts, and this intellectual showdown allows both Spacey and Jackson to ignite the screen with a burst of volatile intensity. Director F Gary Gray is disadvantaged by an otherwise predictable screenplay, but he has a knack for building suspense and is generous to a fine supporting cast, including Paul Giamatti as one of Jackson's high-strung hostages, and the late JT Walsh in what would sadly be his final big-screen role. The Negotiator should have trusted its compelling characters a little more, probing their psyches more intensely to give the suspense a deeper dramatic foundation, but it's good enough to give two great actors a chance to strut their stuff. —Jeff Shannon

Steven Soderbergh Like its predecessor Ocean's Eleven, Ocean's Twelve is a piffle of a caper, a preposterous plot given juice and vitality by a combination of movie star glamour and the exuberant filmmaking skill of director Steven Soderbergh (Out of Sight, The Limey). The heist hijinks of the first film come to roost for a team of eleven thieves (including the glossy mugs of Brad Pitt, Matt Damon, Bernie Mac, and Don Cheadle), who find themselves pursued not only by the guy they robbed (silky Andy Garcia), but also by a top-notch detective (plush Catherine Zeta-Jones) and a jealous master thief (well-oiled Vincent Cassel) who wants to prove that team leader Danny Ocean (dapper George Clooney) isn't the best in the field. As if all that star power weren't enough—and the eternally coltish Julia Roberts also returns as Ocean's wife—one movie star cameo raises the movie's combined wattage to absurd proportions. But all these handsome faces are matched by Soderbergh's visual flash, cunning editing, and excellent use of Amsterdam, Paris, and Rome, among other highly decorative locations. The whole affair should collapse under the weight of its own silliness, but somehow it doesn't—the movie's raffish spirit and offhand wit soar along, providing lightweight but undeniable entertainment. —Bret Fetzer, Amazon.com

Milos Forman One of the key movies of the 1970s, when exciting, groundbreaking, personal films were still being made in Hollywood, Milos Forman's One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest emphasised the humanistic story at the heart of Ken Kesey's more hallucinogenic novel. Jack Nicholson was born to play the part of Randle Patrick McMurphy, the rebellious inmate of a psychiatric hospital who fights back against the authorities' cold attitudes of institutional superiority, as personified by Nurse Ratched (Louise Fletcher). It's the classic antiestablishment tale of one man asserting his individuality in the face of a repressive, conformist system—and it works on every level. Forman populates his film with memorably eccentric faces, and gets such freshly detailed and spontaneous work from his ensemble that the picture sometimes feels like a documentary. Unlike a lot of films pitched at the "youth culture" of the 1970s, One Flew over the Cuckoo's Nest really hasn't dated a bit, because the qualities of human nature that Forman captures—playfulness, courage, inspiration, pride, stubbornness—are universal and timeless. The film swept the Academy Awards for 1976, winning in all the major categories (picture, director, actor, actress, screenplay) for the first time since Frank Capra's It Happened One Night in 1931. —Jim Emerson

David Fincher An effective exercise in "confined cinema", Panic Room is a finely crafted thriller that ultimately transcends the thinness of its premise. David Koepp's screenplay is basically Wait Until Dark on steroids, so director David Fincher (Seven, The Game) compensates with elaborate CGI-assisted camera moves, jazzing up his visuals.

A relocated New York divorcée (Jodie Foster) and her diabetic daughter (Kristen Stewart) fight for their lives against a trio of tenacious burglars (Jared Leto, Forest Whitaker, Dwight Yoakam) in their new Manhattan townhouse. They're safe in a customised, impenetrable "panic room", but the burglars want what's in the room's safe, so mother and daughter (and Koepp and Fincher) must find clever ways to turn the tables and persevere. Suspense and intelligence are admirably maintained, with Foster (who replaced the then-injured Nicole Kidman) relying on her Silence of the Lambs resourcefulness. It's not as viscerally satisfying as Fincher's previous thrillers, but Panic Room definitely holds the viewer's attention. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

John Myhre, Brian Helgeland If it weren't for the fact that John Boorman's Point Blank was already a definitive take on Richard Stark's novel The Hunter (reissued under the title Payback), Payback would be a well-above-average 90s action movie. The original toughness is diluted: Mel Gibson's Porter, replacing Lee Marvin's Walker and Stark's Parker, comes on like a hardnut but turns into a softie when he hooks up with call-girl Maria Bello (and he even likes dogs). Double-crossed and wounded after shifty Gregg Henry dupes Porter's wife (Deborah Kara Unger) into betraying him, Porter sets out to get back the $70,000 share of a heist that he feels he is owed. Because Henry has used the money to buy his way into "the Outfit", he has to deal not only with the squirming scumbag but a hierarchy of corporate mobsters (William Devane, James Coburn, Kris Kristofferson) for whom it would be bad business practice to hand over even the trivial sum. Director-writer Brian Helgeland gives it a steely-blue look and gets good performances all round (with room for Lucy Liu as an amusing dominatrix) while constructing a story in which everything fits. But it's just a good thriller, since the masterpiece potential has already been staked out. —Kim Newman

Peter Kay Just a quick taxi ride from his mum's house, Peter Kay comes home to play Live at the Bolton Albert Halls. A packed and appreciative audience—sprinkled with Corrie stars for added glamour—relish the prodigal son's return. As his first stand-up show, Live at the Top of the Tower, demonstrated, Kay is a master of the mundane, finding hilarity in the previously unnoticed details of family life: here, Gran in her warden-protected flat, the funny way that dads run, and going to the supermarket with Mum are all mined for comic riches.

Kay is an inspired mimic and observer of social interactions: in a tour-de-force segment he takes us to a typical wedding reception where we meet incoherent DJs, bitchy female friends of the bride, uncles embarrassing themselves on the dancefloor and little boys sliding on their knees. References to "the big light", Mum's preferred "Rola Cola" and garlic bread are thematic strands from his earlier show, developed here in Dad's horrified discovery of "cheese cake".

Although Kay's observations play on his northern upbringing he generally avoids stereotypical north-south jokes; but here on home turf he can't resist mentioning the vexed issue of southern fish-and-chip shops with their lack of mushy peas, curry sauce and gravy ("have you got owt moist?"), and can even risk a little dig at Mancunians—which always goes down well with a Bolton crowd. Genial, nostalgic and unapologetically rooted in a Coronation Street worldview, Kay's comedy is both specific to time and place, and universal in its celebration of the everyday. —Mark Walker

Darren Aronofsky Patterns exist everywhere: in nature, in science, in religion, in business. Max Cohen (played hauntingly by Sean Gullette) is a mathematician searching for these patterns in everything. Yet, he's not the only one, and everyone from Wall Street investors, looking to break the market, to Hasidic Jews, searching for the 216-digit number that reveals the true name of God, are trying to get their hands on Max. This dark, low-budget film was shot in black and white by director Darren Aronofsky. With eerie music, voice-overs, and overt symbolism enhancing the somber mood, Aronofsky has created a disturbing look at the world. Max is deeply paranoid, holed up in his apartment with his computer Euclid, obsessively studying chaos theory. Blinding headaches and hallucinogenic visions only feed his paranoia as he attempts to remain aloof from the world, venturing out only to meet his mentor, Sol Robeson (Mark Margolis), who for some mysterious reason feels Max should take a break from his research. Pi is complex—occasionally toocomplex—but the psychological drama and the loose sci-fi elements make this a worthwhile, albeit consuming, watch. Pi won the Director's Award at the 1998 Sundance Film Festival. —Jenny Brown

David N. Twohy Pitch Black is a guilty pleasure that surpasses expectations, even though it owes a major debt to Alien and its cinematic spawn. As he did with The Arrival, director David Twohy revitalises a derivative story, allowing you to forgive its flaws and submit to its visceral thrills. Under casual scrutiny, the plot's logic crumbles like a stale cookie, but it's definitely fun while it lasts. A spaceship crashes on a desert planet scorched under three suns. The mostly doomed survivors include a resourceful captain (Radha Mitchell), a drug-addled cop (Cole Hauser) and a deadly prisoner (Vin Diesel) who quickly escapes. These clashing personalities discover that the planet is plunging into the darkness of an extended eclipse, and it's populated by hordes of ravenous, razor-fanged beasties that only come out at night. The body count rises, and Pitch Black settles into familiar sci-fi territory.

What sets the movie apart is Twohy's developing visual style, suggesting that this veteran of straight-to-video schlock may advance to the big leagues. Like the makers of The Blair Witch Project, Twohy understands the frightening power of suggestion; his hungry monsters are better heard than seen (although once seen, they're chillingly effective), and Pitch Black gets full value from moments of genuine panic. Best of all, Twohy's got a well-matched cast, with Mitchell (so memorable with Ally Sheedy in High Art) and Diesel (Pvt. Caparzo from Saving Private Ryan) being the standouts. The latter makes the most of his muscle-man role, and his character's development is one more reason this film works better than it should. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

Pitch Black 3 DVD Box Set

Oliver Stone Winning a raft of awards, not least of which four Oscars, including Best Picture and Best Director, Oliver Stone's Platoon was a box-office smash heralding Hollywood's second wave of Vietnam war films. Where predecessors The Deer Hunter (1978) and Apocalypse Now (1979) were elaborate epics, Platoon simply showed the daily reality of the war from the point of view of ordinary soldiers. Stone's own service in Vietnam gives his work a unique authenticity. Charlie Sheen gives his best performance to date, enduring a series of increasingly large-scale and bloody battles which retrospectively make one wonder why Saving Private Ryan was hailed as so new. Against this gruelling verity the film falters over the symbolic conflict between good and evil sergeants played by Willem Dafoe and Tom Berenger. Even though this was also based in real life, it strikes a too conventionally Hollywood-like note in a film which otherwise maintains much of the raw power of Stone's other film from 1986, Salvador. Johnny Depp fans should look out for an early appearance by the star. Stone would return to Vietnam with the more sophisticated Born on the Fourth of July (1989) and Heaven and Earth (1993).

On the DVD: The 50-minute documentary "Tour of the Inferno" goes beyond the usual "making-of" to present a personal account both of the film and of Stone's own time in Vietnam. Likewise the two audio commentaries—one by Stone, the other by Captain Dale Dye, fellow veteran and military technical advisor—range between the making of the film and the degree to which the actors came to inhabit their parts, to their own wartime experiences. Both commentaries bring a fresh level of appreciation and understanding to the film. Also included is the original trailer and three TV commercials, together with well-presented stills galleries of behind-the-scenes photos and poster art. Following a credit sequence marred by dirt on the print, the anamorphically enhanced 1.77:1 image is sharp and clear. The many night scenes are very dark but remain easily comprehensible. The three-channel Dolby Digital sound is suitably raw and powerful, though an early sequence featuring rain in the jungle suffers from very distracting repeated drop-outs in the left channel. —Gary S Dalkin

Quentin Tarantino With the knockout one-two punch of 1992's Reservoir Dogs and 1994's Pulp Fiction writer-director Quentin Tarantino stunned the filmmaking world, exploding into prominence as a cinematic heavyweight contender. But Pulp Fiction was more than just the follow-up to an impressive first feature, or the winner of the Palme d'Or at Cannes Film Festival, or a script stuffed with the sort of juicy bubblegum dialogue actors just love to chew, or the vehicle that re-established John Travolta on the A-list, or the relatively low-budget ($8 million) independent showcase for an ultrahip mixture of established marquee names and rising stars from the indie scene (among them Samuel L Jackson, Uma Thurman, Bruce Willis, Ving Rhames, Harvey Keitel, Christopher Walken, Tim Roth, Amanda Plummer, Julia Sweeney, Kathy Griffin and Phil Lamar). It was more, even, than an unprecedented $100-million-plus hit for indie distributor Miramax. Pulp Fiction was a sensation. No, it was not the Second Coming (I actually think Reservoir Dogs is a more substantial film; and PT Anderson outdid Tarantino in 1997 by making his directorial debut with two even more mature and accomplished pictures, Hard Eight and Boogie Nights). But Pulp Fiction packs so much energy and invention into telling its nonchronologically interwoven short stories (all about temptation, corruption, and redemption amongst modern criminals, large and small) it leaves viewers both exhilarated and exhausted—hearts racing and knuckles white from the ride. (Oh, and the infectious, surf-guitar-based soundtrack is tastier than a Royale with Cheese.) —Jim Emerson

Brett Ratner Anthony Hopkins returns as Hannibal Lecter in Red Dragon, a prequel to The Silence of the Lambs and a remake of 1986's Manhunter, Michael Mann's fine film of Thomas Harris's terrific book, in which Brian Cox carved the ham thinner as a more menacing, less hokey cannibal.

This film beefs up Lecter's role, opening with a prologue that finds him annoyed by a sour note in his favourite symphony orchestra and then serving the offending flautist at a dinner party before FBI profiler Will Graham (Edward Norton) drops by to apprehend him. Then, we pick up with Lecter in his asylum cell and Graham retired with trauma, only to be brought back together by the crimes of a new madman, the Tooth Fairy. Graham consults Lecter on the case, which means some pointed and familiar conversations, and the film shifts focus from the investigation to the life and troubles of the mad and murderous but also abused and sympathetic Francis Dolarhyde (Ralph Fiennes, with a major tattoo and a harelip).

Director Brett Ratner is more like a job-of-work man than the geniuses who have made the earlier movies, and he doesn't quite restrain Hopkins enough. It's also hard not to compare the current cast with Mann's excellent players. Still, Red Dragon is a solid film of great material, with all the sudden shocks and disturbing whispers in places. Also with Harvey Keitel as the FBI boss, Emily Watson as Dolarhyde's blind love interest, Philip Seymour Hoffman as a tabloid sleaze and Mary-Louise Parker in the thankless role of imperilled wife. —Kim Newman

Darren Aronofsky Fantasy mixes with the harsh reality of addiction and the desire for hope in Requiem for a Dream. Beginning at the dawn of a new summer in Coney Island, the film charts the relationship of Sara Goldfarb (Ellen Burstyn) and her son Harry (Jared Leto)—two characters who are lost with in a world of the self-absorbed desire to feed their addictions at the cost of hope and love. With a sublime score (performed by the Kronos Quartet) accompanying some intense visual imagery, the film sets up an almost fairy-tale wash over the characters' lives, with every hit of their chosen drug turning them into beautiful people surrounded by a haze which enhances all their features. However, unlike films such as Trainspotting which turn the dream into a nightmare then end with a huge dose of hope, Requiem for a Dream forces the viewer through all loss of hope and the descending madness of reality, as winter begins.

Darren Aronofsky's follow-up to the critically acclaimed Pi is a movie which exposes not only the terror caused by addiction of any kind—be it TV or Heroin—but also offers a powerful insight into the destruction caused by the desire to achieve "the American Dream". Based on the novel by Hubert Selby Jr, the film sacrifices dialogue in favour of imagery and movement: the editing and cinematography are reminiscent of MTV, however the movie takes this very aggressive style and moulds it to its own needs, adding a beautifully haunting narrative and powerful performances by its four main characters (Burstyn just missing out on an Oscar for Best female lead to Julia Roberts). Ultimately the viewer is left with a sense of desperation and despair: Requiem for a Dream exposes drugs and addiction in the most powerful and truthful way a film has ever managed, leaving no stone unturned.

On the DVD: This disc is bursting with excellent special features. The anamorphic widescreen picture makes the most of the film's stylish visuals, and the soundtrack offers choice of either Dolby Digital 5.1 or 2.0. As well as offering the obligatory theatrical trailer, scene selection and a fantastic director's commentary, there's also a "making-of" featurette, TV trailers charting the reviews and success of the film, an "Anatomy of a scene", and a wide range of deleted scenes. By far the best feature is Hubert Selby Jr's interview with Ellen Burstyn, which offers the writer a chance to put across not just his opinions on his work but also on life as a whole. All these features are placed within an impressively formatted menu. —Nikki Disney

Quentin Tarantino Quentin Tarantino came out of nowhere (i.e. a video store in Manhattan Beach, California) and turned Hollywood on its ear in 1992 with his explosive first feature, Reservoir Dogs. Like Tarantino's mainstream breakthrough Pulp Fiction, Reservoir Dogs has an unconventional structure, cleverly shuffling back and forth in time to reveal details about the characters, experienced criminals who know next to nothing about each other. Joe (Lawrence Tierney) has assembled them to pull off a simple heist, and has gruffly assigned them colour-coded aliases (Mr Orange, Mr Pink, Mr White) to conceal their identities even from each other. But something has gone wrong, and the plan has blown up in their faces. One by one, the surviving robbers find their way back to their prearranged warehouse hideout. There, they try to piece together the chronology of this bloody fiasco—and to identify the traitor among them who tipped off the police. Pressure mounts, blood flows, accusations and bullets fly. In the combustible atmosphere these men are forced to confront life-and-death questions of trust, loyalty, professionalism, deception and betrayal.

As many critics have observed, it is a movie about "honor among thieves" (just as Pulp Fiction is about redemption, and Jackie Brown is about survival). Along with everything else, the movie provides a showcase for a terrific ensemble of actors: Harvey Keitel, Tim Roth, Steve Buscemi, Michael Madsen, Christopher Penn and Tarantino himself, offering a fervent dissection of Madonna's "Like a Virgin" over breakfast. Reservoir Dogs is violent (though the violence is implied rather than explicit), clever, gabby, harrowing, funny, suspenseful and even—in the end—unexpectedly moving. (Don't forget that "Super Sounds of the Seventies" soundtrack, either.) Reservoir Dogs deserves just as much acclaim and attention as its follow-up, Pulp Fiction, would receive two years later. —Jim Emerson

Todd Phillips Road Trip is a mostly agreeable, by-the-numbers teen flick with a handful of inspired sequences, most of them involving MTV's resident disturbed soul, Tom Green. It concerns a sleepy University of Ithaca student named Josh (Breckin Meyer) who accidentally mails a video of his sexual encounter with an infatuation (Amy Smart) to his long time girlfriend (Rachel Blanchard), who's seemingly avoiding him while at school in Austin, Texas. Naturally, he recruits some pals—Seann William Scott as the lech, DJ Qualls as the hopeless nerd and Paulo Costanzo as the doper genius—to hit the open highway and intercept the package. Even more naturally, mayhem ensues: a car explodes, a bus is stolen, a nerd is deflowered, French toast is horribly violated and an elderly man bogarts both pot and Viagra.

The film's humour is more democratic than politically correct, as everyone—women and minority characters, not just the hipster white guys—have a hand in the high jinks. Green plays Barry Manilow (no, not that one), a professional student (eight years and counting)—he relates the film's story to sceptical prospective students while leading them on a tour of the college. In particular, in an already justly famous sequence of scenes, he sadistically anticipates and endeavours to accelerate a mouse's demise at the jaws of a python. It's very much in the vein of American Pie, perhaps a smidgen tamer, but at least its characters don't really learn any dopey lessons in the end. Director and co-screenwriter Todd Phillips, who earlier made the much-questioned documentary Frat House, again proves he's more adept at staging fictional comic sequences than real ones. —David Kronke, Amazon.com

Sylvester Stallone, John G. Avildsen Americans love the underdog. Anytime someone is beating the odds, fighting his or her way to the top, like The Little Engine That Could, it resonates well with U.S. audiences; it's in their nature. Sylvester Stallone knew that in 1976, when Rocky was a monstrous hit and established itself in the American cultural lexicon. His low-budget tale of a young boxer who came from the slums of Philadelphia and worked his way to the championship recalls Capra characters such as Mr. Smith or John Doe as he worked his way to fame and self-respect. Like Capra's films from 30 years before, Rocky pushed emotional buttons with audiences, but in a somewhat less maudlin, obvious way; it's possible to enjoy Rocky without feeling embarrassed about it, even in these cynical times. It ranks respectably among the best boxing pictures, such as The Set-Up or Somebody Up There Likes Me. The story paralleled Stallone's own, from a relative unknown to a star with one breakthrough picture. Rocky II (1979) carries on the story line, playing on the rivalry between Rocky Balboa and nemesis Apollo Creed, while Balboa's wife fights for her life. Mainly, though, the sequel seems like a link between the first film and Rocky III, in which an aging Rocky takes on big, bad Clubber Lang (the near-forgotten Mr. T). While playing on the same emotional capital as the first movie, Rocky III is the high-water mark of the sequels; by the next movie, Stallone had turned into a near-self-parody of the original character. Rocky IV finds the underdog taking on an oversized, blond Russian boxer (Dolph Lundgren) in a cold war scenario (Rocky literally wraps himself in the American flag). The series mercifully played out by 1990, as embarrassingly punch-drunk as the Rocky character himself by that point. Given the way the American pop-culture continuum seems to work, it's probably due time for the later sequels to be plucked from the compost heap of '80s flotsam and revived as high camp; the Reagan-era hyperpatriotism of Rocky IV is as dated as in junk like Red Dawn or the dreadful Invasion U.S.A. Still, the first three films pack a satisfying emotional wallop without giving the viewer the urge to crawl under the couch. The last two... well, use your judgment. They will soon be good for an '80s nostalgia party. —Jerry Renshaw, Amazon.com

The sixth installment of the Rocky series picks up the story of the Italian Stallion 16 years after the morose Rocky V. And sure, at his advanced age, Sylvester Stallone now looks like one of those sides of beef his character used to pound on. No matter. Somehow you buy the premise after all these years, even if it takes forever for Rocky Balboa to stop wallowing in self-pity (Adrian is dead, his old haunts are demolished) and get down to the business of drinking raw eggs and running up staircases. The business at hand is an unlikely exhibition fight with champeen Mason Dixon (Antonio Tarver), which the near-sexagenarian Mr. Balboa has no business accepting. Of course, just as sure as the horns of Bill Conti's theme music are even now trumpeting through your head, the ol' Rock might have a punch or two left in him. Stallone wrote and directed, and there isn't much to say except that the movie steps in its pre-determined paces with a canny sense of what has come before (it's practically an homage to all the previous Rocky pictures, complete with fleeting flashbacks). Burt Young is around again, and Geraldine Hughes makes an appealing, rather chaste female companion for Rocky. Stallone's Rocky has gotten suspiciously articulate over the years, but he still knows how to slouch. If Stallone never forgets that, he can probably keep the franchise rolling. —Robert Horton

Steven Spielberg Since its release in 1998, Steven Spielberg's D-Day drama Saving Private Ryan has become hugely influential: everything, from the opening sequence of Gladiator ("Saving Marcus Aurelius") to the marvellous 10-hour TV series Band of Brothers, has been made in its shadow. There have been many previous attempts to recreate the D-Day landings on screen (notably, the epic The Longest Day), but thanks to Spielberg's freewheeling hand-held camerawork, Ryan was the first time an audience really felt like they were there, storming up Omaha Beach in the face of withering enemy fire.

After the indelible opening sequence, however, the film is not without problems. The story, though based on an American Civil War incident, feels like it was concocted simply to fuel Spielberg's sentimental streak. In standard Hollywood fashion the Germans remain a faceless foe (with the exception of one charmless character who turns out to be both a coward and a turncoat); and the Tom Hanks-led platoon consists of far too many stereotypes: the doughty Sergeant; the thick-necked Private; the Southern man religious sniper; the cowardly Corporal. Matt Damon seems improbably clean-cut as the titular Private in need of rescue (though that may well be the point); and why do they all run straight up that hill towards an enemy machine gun post anyway? Some non-US critics have complained that Ryan portrays only the American D-Day experience, but it is an American film made and financed by Americans after all. Accepting both its relatively narrow remit and its lachrymose inclinations, Saving Private Ryan deserves its place in the pantheon of great war pictures.

On the DVD: Saving Private Ryan on disc comes in a good-quality anamorphic 1.85:1 transfer with a suitably dynamic Dolby Digital 5.1 sound mix in which bullets fly all around your living room. Extra features are pretty minimal, with a standard 30-minute "making of" piece called "Into the Breach" and two trailers. There are text notes on the cast and crew as well as the production, and a brief message from Mr Spielberg himself about why he decided to make the movie. —Mark Walker

David Fincher The most viscerally frightening and disturbing homicidal maniac picture since The Silence of the Lambs, Seven is based on an idea that's both gruesome and ingenious. A serial killer forces each of his victims to die by acting out one of the seven deadly sins. The murder scene is then artfully arranged into a grotesque tableau, a graphic illustration of each mortal vice. From the jittery opening credits to the horrifying (and seemingly inescapable) concluding twist, director David Fincher immerses us in a murky urban twilight where everything seems to be rotting, rusting, or moulding; the air is cold and heavy with dread. Morgan Freeman and Brad Pitt are the detectives who skillfully track down the killer—all the while unaware that he has been closing in on them, as well. Gwyneth Paltrow and Kevin Spacey are also featured, but it is director Fincher and the ominous, overwhelmingly oppressive atmosphere of doom that he creates that are the real stars of the film. It's a terrific date movie—for vampires. —Jim Emerson, Amazon.com

When The Shawshank Redemption was released in 1994, some critics complained that this popular prison drama was too long (142 minutes) to sustain its plot. Those complaints miss the point, because the passage of time is crucial to this story about patience, the squeaky wheels of justice and the growth of a life-long friendship. Only when the film reaches its final, emotionally satisfying scene do you fully understand why writer-director Frank Darabont (adapting a novel by Stephen King) allows the story to unfold at its necessary pace.

Tim Robbins plays a banker named Andy who is sent to Shawshank Prison on a murder charge, but as he gets to know a life-term prisoner named Red (Morgan Freeman), we soon realise his claims of innocence are credible. We also realise that Andy's calm, quiet exterior hides a great reserve of patience and fortitude, and Red comes to admire this mild-mannered man who first struck him as weak and unfit for prison life. So it is that The Shawshank Redemption builds considerable impact as a prison drama that defies the conventions of the genre (violence, brutality, riots) to illustrate its theme of faith, friendship and survival. Nominated for seven Academy Awards including Best Picture, Actor and Screenplay, it's a remarkable film (which movie lovers count among their all-time favourites) that signalled the arrival of a promising new filmmaker. —Jeff Shannon

Jonathan Demme Based on Thomas Harris's novel, Jonathan Demme's terrifying adaptation of Silence of the Lambs contains only a couple of genuinely shocking moments (one involving an autopsy, the other a prison break). The rest of the film is a splatter-free visual and psychological descent into the hell of madness, redeemed astonishingly by an unlikely connection between a monster and a haunted young woman.

Anthony Hopkins is extraordinary as the cannibalistic psychiatrist Dr Hannibal Lecter, virtually entombed in a subterranean prison for the criminally insane. At the behest of the FBI, agent-in-training Clarice Starling (Jodie Foster) approaches Lecter, requesting his insights into the identity and methods of a serial killer named Buffalo Bill (Ted Levine). In exchange, Lecter demands the right to penetrate Starling's most painful memories, creating a bizarre but palpable intimacy that liberates them both under separate but equally horrific circumstances.

Demme, a filmmaker with a uniquely populist vision (Melvin and Howard, Something Wild), also spent his early years making pulp for Roger Corman (Caged Heat) and he hasn't forgotten the significance of tone, atmosphere and the unsettling nature of a crudely effective close-up. Much of the film, in fact, consists of actors staring straight into the camera (usually from Clarice's point of view), making every bridge between one set of eyes to another seem terribly dangerous. —Tom Keogh, Amazon.com

On the DVD: On disc one, the film itself looks clinically sharp in a faultless widescreen (1.85:1) anamorphic transfer, while the Dolby 5.1 soundtrack makes the most of the chilling sound effects and Howard Shore's masterfully understated score. Unlike the Region 1 Criterion Collection, however, there is no audio commentary at all. On the second disc, the all-new hour-long "making-of" documentary features contributions from the screenwriter, producer, composer, costume designer, make-up effects people and even the moth wrangler ("There were no moths harmed in the filming!") as well as Ted Levine (Buffalo Bill) and Anthony Hopkins, who talks at length about creating Lecter. Conspicuous by their absence are Jonathan Demme and Jodie Foster. Aside from the usual trailers and stills gallery there are 21 deleted scenes, many of which are not whole scenes but deleted excerpts, a promotional featurette made in 1991 and an outtakes reel that proves the cast really did have fun making this scary picture. For those who want to scare all their friends, there's also an answerphone message from Anthony Hopkins "in character". —Mark Walker

Barry Levinson The first thing you need to know about Sleepers is that it's based on a novel by Lorenzo Carcaterra that was allegedly based on a true story. The movie repeats this bogus claim, which was attacked and determined by a wide majority to be misleading. Knowing this, Sleepers becomes problematic because it's too neat, too clean, too manipulative in terms of legal justice and dramatic impact to be truly convincing. And yet, with its stellar cast directed by Barry Levinson, it succeeds as gripping entertainment, and its tale of complex morality—despite a dubious emphasis on homophobic revenge—is sufficiently provocative. It's about four boys in New York's Hell's Kitchen district who are sent to reform school, where they must endure routine sexual assaults by the sadistic guards. Years after their release, the opportunity for revenge proves irresistible for two of the young men, who must then rely on the other pair of friends (Brad Pitt, Jason Patric), a loyal priest (Robert De Niro), and a shabby lawyer (Dustin Hoffman) to defend them in court. Despite the compelling ambiguities of the story, there's never any doubt about how we're supposed to feel, and the screenplay glosses over the story's most difficult moral dilemmas. At its best, Sleepers grabs your attention and pulls you into its intense story of friendship and the price of loyalty under extreme conditions. The movie's New York settings are vividly authentic, and Minnie Driver makes a strong impression as a long-time friend of the loyal group of guys. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

Guy Ritchie Snatch, the follow-up to the Guy Ritchie's breakthrough film—the high-energy, expletive-strewn cockney-gangster movie Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels—hardly breaks new ground being, well, another high-energy, expletive-strewn cockney-gangster movie. Okay, so there are some differences. This time around our low-rent hoodlums are battling over dodgy fights and stolen diamonds rather than dodgy card games and stolen drugs. There has been some minor reshuffling of the cast too with Sting and Dexter Fletcher making way for the more bankable Benicio Del Toro and Brad Pitt, the latter pretty much stealing the whole shebang as an incomprehensible Irish gypsy.

Moreover, no one can complain about the amount of extras featured on this DVD that includes 15 minutes of deleted scenes, a making-of documentary, trailer, storyboards, production notes and commentary from Ritchie himself. And, sure, people who really, really liked Lock, Stock—or have the memory of a goldfish—will really, really like this. The suspicion lingers, however, that if the director doesn't do something very different next time around then his career may prove to be considerably shorter than that of 'er indoors. —Clark Collis

Jonathan Frakes Even-numbered Star Trek movies tend to be better, and this one (number eight in the popular series) is no exception—an intelligently handled plot involving the galaxy-conquering Borg and their attempt to invade Earth's past, alter history, and "assimilate" the entire human race. Time travel, a dazzling new Enterprise, and capable direction by Next Generation alumnus Jonathan Frakes makes this one rank with the best of the bunch. Capt. Picard (Patrick Stewart) and his able crew travel back in time to Earth in the year 2063, where they hope to ensure that the inventor of warp drive (played by James Cromwell) will successfully carry out his pioneering warp-drive flight and precipitate Earth's "first contact" with an alien race. A seductive Borg queen (Alice Krige) holds Lt. Data (Brent Spiner) hostage in an effort to sabotage the Federation's preservation of history, and the captive android finds himself tempted by the queen's tantalising sins of the flesh. Sharply conceived to fit snugly into the burgeoning Star Trek chronology, First Contact leads to a surprise revelation that marks an important historical chapter in the ongoing mission "to boldly go where no one has gone before". —Jeff Shannon

Jonathan Frakes

George Lucas Ending the most popular film epic in history, Star Wars: Episode III, Revenge of the Sith is an exciting, uneven, but ultimately satisfying journey. Picking up the action from Episode II, Attack of the Clones as well as the animated Clone Wars series, Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen), pursue General Grievous into space after the droid has kidnapped Supreme Chancellor Palpatine (Ian McDiarmid). It's just the latest manoeuvre in the on-going Clone Wars between the Republic and the Separatist forces led by former Jedi turned Sith Lord Count Dooku (Christopher Lee). On another front, Master Yoda (voiced by Frank Oz) leads the Republic's clone troops against a droid attack on the Wookiee homeworld of Kashyyyk. All this is in the first half of Episode III, which feels a lot like Episodes I and II. That means spectacular scenery, dazzling dogfights in space, a new fearsome villain (the CGI-created Grievous can't match up to either Darth Maul or the original Darth Vader, though), lightsaber duels, groan-worthy romantic dialogue, goofy humor (but at least it's left to the droids instead of Jar-Jar Binks), and hordes of faceless clone troopers fighting hordes of faceless battle droids.

But then it all changes.

After setting up characters and situations for the first two and a half movies, Episode III finally comes to life. The Sith Lord in hiding unleashes his long-simmering plot to take over the Republic, and an integral part of that plan is to turn Anakin away from the Jedi and toward the Dark Side of the Force. Unless you've been living under a rock the last 10 years, you know that Anakin will transform into the dreaded Darth Vader and face an ultimate showdown with his mentor, but that doesn't matter. In fact, a great part of the fun is knowing where things will wind up but finding out how they'll get there. The end of this prequel trilogy also should inspire fans to want to see the original movies again, but this time not out of frustration at the new ones. Rather, because Episode III is a beginning as well as an end, it will trigger fond memories as it ties up threads to the originals in tidy little ways. But best of all, it seems like for the first time we actually care about what happens and who it happens to.

Episode III is easily the best of the new trilogy—OK, so that's not saying much, but it might even jockey for third place among the six Star Wars films. It's also the first one to be rated PG-13 for the intense battles and darker plot. It was probably impossible to live up to the decades' worth of pent-up hype George Lucas faced for the Star Wars prequel trilogy (and he tried to lower it with the first two movies), but Episode III makes us once again glad to be "a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away." —David Horiuchi, Amazon.com

George Lucas

Irvin Kershner

Richard Marquand

George Lucas "I have a bad feeling about this," says the young Obi-Wan Kenobi (played by Ewan McGregor) in Star Wars: Episode I, The Phantom Menace as he steps off a spaceship and into the most anticipated cinematic event ... well, ever. He might as well be speaking for the legions of fans of the original episodes in the Star Wars saga who can't help but secretly ask themselves: sure, this is Star Wars, but it is my Star Wars? The original elevated moviegoers' expectations so high that it would have been impossible for any subsequent film to meet them. And as with all the Star Wars movies, The Phantom Menace features inexplicable plot twists, a fistful of loose threads and some cheek-chewing dialogue. Han Solo's swagger is sorely missed, as is the pervading menace of heavy-breathing Darth Vader. There is still way too much quasi-mystical mumbo jumbo and some of what was fresh about Star Wars 22 years earlier feels formulaic. Yet there's much to admire. The special effects are stupendous; three worlds are populated with a mélange of creatures, flora and horizons rendered in absolute detail. The action and battle scenes are breathtaking in their complexity. And one particular sequence of the film-the adrenaline-infused pod race through the Tatooine desert—makes the chariot race in Ben-Hur look like a Sunday stroll through the park. Among the host of new characters, there are a few familiar walk-ons. We witness the first meeting between R2-D2 and C-3PO, Jabba the Hutt looks younger and slimmer (but not young and slim) and Yoda is as crabby as ever. Natalie Portman's stately Queen Amidala sports hairdos that make Princess Leia look dowdy and wields a mean laser. We never bond with Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan's day is yet to come. Jar Jar Binks, a cross between a Muppet, a frog and a hippie, provides many of the movie's lighter moments, while Sith Lord Darth Maul is a formidable force. Baby-faced Anakin Skywalker looks too young and innocent to command the powers of the Force or wield a lightsaber (much less transmute into the future Darth Vader), but his boyish exuberance wins over sceptics. Near the end of the movie, Palpatine, the new leader of the Republic, may be speaking for fans eagerly awaiting Episode II when he pats young Anakin on the head and says, "We will watch your career with great interest." Indeed! —Tod Nelson

George Lucas The most densely plotted instalment of the saga so far, Attack of the Clones is a tale of both Machiavellian political drama and doomed romance; it's epic war film and silly comic-book fantasy combined, as teenage Anakin Skywalker (Hayden Christensen) chafes at the restrictions imposed by his mentor Obi-Wan Kenobi (Ewan McGregor) and falls in love with Padme Amidala (Natalie Portman). Renegade Jedi Count Dooku (Christopher Lee) is leading a breakaway federation of disgruntled systems; while the insidious influence of Darth Sidious is felt rather than seen as his invisible hand guides apparently unrelated events, from Jar Jar's unwitting instigation of a disastrous Senate decision to bounty hunter Jango Fett's revelatory role at the centre of the conspiracy.

Along the way the story has fun with the conventions of Chandleresque detective fiction as Obi-Wan explores the seedier side of Coruscant, and incorporates the noble warrior ethos of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon in its portrayal of the Jedi order. The portentous tone is lightened by tongue-in-cheek self-referential dialogue and the antics of robotic clowns R2D2 and C3PO. (One niggle for music fans, though, is the cavalier cut-and-paste approach to John Williams's music score.) Like the Empire Strikes Back, Clones is the bridging film of the trilogy and thus ends on an equivocally bittersweet note.

On the DVD: Attack of the Clones is an all-digital film, and so looks suitably superb in this anamorphic widescreen transfer, accompanied by a THX encoded Dolby 5.1 soundtrack. Anyone who owns The Phantom Menace two-disc set will know what to expect from the special features: here's another group commentary led by George Lucas, two lengthy documentaries on the digital effects ("From Puppets to Pixels" and "The Previsualisation of Episode II") plus several other featurettes and Web documentaries, notably "Films Are Not Released, They Escape", a look at the sound design. There's also a fun trailer for the R2-D2 mockumentary "Beneath the Dome", trailers, photo galleries and more to satisfy any Star Wars fan. —Mark Walker

Robert C. Cooper

Dominic Sena The sort of action thriller for which the phrase "high octane" could have been conceived, Swordfish stars John Travolta as Gabriel Shear, an enigmatic criminal operator who is as admired as he is feared. Using sexy sidekick Ginger (Halle Berry) as bait, he pressgangs Stanley Jobson, (Hugh Jackman) the world's greatest computer hacker, into helping him relieve the world banking system of a few billion dollars to finance his own enterprises. Jackman agrees, on the promise that Travolta will help him regain custody of his daughter.

The numerous explosions and set-piece exchanges of high calibre gunfire tend at times to blowholes in the narrative fabric and sense of Swordfish, a film that nonetheless engages through its extravagant silliness. Vinnie Jones is under-used as a fearsome minder, a close-up of Halle Berry's breasts isn't entirely integral to the plotline, while Travolta enjoys himself as the dapper ringmaster of this orgy of techno-chaos, especially in scenes in which he blasts away a brace of pursuing assassins with improbable aplomb and during his opening, Tarantino-esque monologue. By the end, he has shown himself in his apparently true colours in such a way that events of September 11, 2001—although made prior to them—lent the film an eerie sense of prescience. —David Stubbs

Martin Scorsese Taxi Driver is the definitive cinematic portrait of loneliness and alienation manifested as violence. It is as if director Martin Scorsese and screenwriter Paul Schrader had tapped into precisely the same source of psychological inspiration ("I just knew I had to make this film", Scorsese would later say), combined with a perfectly timed post-Watergate expression of personal, political and societal anxiety. Robert De Niro, as the tortured, ex-Marine cab driver Travis Bickle, made movie history with his chilling performance as one of the most memorably intense and vividly realised characters ever committed to film. Bickle is a self-appointed vigilante who views his urban beat as an intolerable cesspool of blighted humanity. He plays guardian angel for a young prostitute (Jodie Foster), but not without violently devastating consequences. This masterpiece, which is not for all tastes, is sure to horrify some viewers, but few could deny the film's lasting power and importance. —Jeff Shannon

James Cameron The Terminator was the film that cemented Arnold Schwarzenegger's place in the action-brawn firmament, and both his and the movie's subsequent iconic status are well deserved. He's chilling as the futuristic cyborg that kills without fear, without love, without mercy. James Cameron's story and direction are pared to the bone and are all the more chillingly effective for it. But don't overlook the contribution of Linda Hamilton, who more than holds her own as the Terminator's would-be victim, Sarah Connor, thus creating—along with Sigourney Weaver in Alien—a new generation of rugged, clear-thinking female action stars. The film's minimalist, malevolent violence is actually scarier than that of its far more expensive, more effects-laden sequel. —Anne Hurley, Amazon.com

On the DVD: Rejoice, The Terminator is back, better looking and louder than ever. After years of inferior VHS versions, the cleaned-up print of this DVD is a revelation, as is the digitally remastered Dolby 5.1 soundtrack: from the opening MGM lion's roar to the crunch of Arnie's boots and the pounding of Brad Fiedel's techno-industrial score, both picture and sound are of a quality that belie the movie's age. The first disc has the movie plus a DVD-ROM feature containing three different versions of the screenplay, which can be read scene-by-scene along with the film. On the second disc there are seven deleted scenes, including a fascinating foreshadowing of Sarah Connor's mission in T2, as well as trailers and TV spots. There are also two "making of" featurettes, one being an 18-minute piece from 1992 based around a friendly at-home chat with Cameron and Schwarzenegger ("We did the first Terminator for the cost of your motor home on the second film", jokes director to actor). The hour-long "Other Voices" featurette is an in-depth montage of cast and crew reminiscences covering all aspects of the production from its initial genesis as a fevered nightmare to the "guerrilla" filmmaking of getting the final shots. Script collaborator Bill Wisher neatly sums up the movie as "It's a Wonderful Life, with guns". The second disc also contains a stills archive of production photographs, James Cameron's amazing original conceptual artwork, plus his first story treatment. If you own a player, how can you resist? After all, the Terminator movies are what DVD was invented for. —Mark Walker

James Cameron Arguably the finest movie of its kind, Terminator 2: Judgment Day captured Arnold Schwarzenegger at the very apex of his Hollywood celebrity and James Cameron at the peak of his perfectionist directorial powers. Nothing the star did subsequently measured up to his iconic performance here, spouting legendary catchphrases and wielding weaponry with unparalleled cool; and while the director had an even bigger hit with the bloated and sentimental Titanic, few followers of his career would deny that Cameron's true forte has always been sci-fi action. With an incomparably bigger budget than its 1984 precursor, T2 essentially reworks the original scenario with envelope-stretching special effects and simply more, more, more of everything. Yet, for all its scale, T2 remains at heart a classic sci-fi tale: robots running amok, time travel paradoxes and dystopian future worlds are recurrent genre themes, which are here simply revitalised by Cameron's glorious celebration of the mechanistic. From the V-twin roar of a Harley Fat Boy to the metal-crunching Steel Mill finale, the director's fascination with machines is this movie's strongest motif: it's no coincidence that the character with whom the audience identifies most strongly is a robot. Now that impressive but unengaging CGI effects have come to over-dominate sci-fi movies (think of The Phantom Menace), T2's pivotal blending of extraordinary live-action stuntwork and FX looks more and more like it will never be equalled.

On the DVD: Oh, if only every DVD could be like this. Here is a DVD package worthy of this monumental movie, with so many extra features the viewer will spend hours simply trying to find them all (the animated menus alone are worth watching over and over again.) On the second disc there are three extensive documentaries (all good, all relatively straightforward), but things get more complicated as you burrow down through the menu layers of Cyberdyne Systems into the "Data Hub": the entire screenplay, storyboards, text features, dozens and dozens of video clips, deleted scenes, and thousands of stills.

The movie disc itself will cause even hardened surround-sound enthusiasts to gasp with joy as these explosive soundscapes come alive in Dolby 5.1 or DTS (hear that Harley roar!), while the anamorphic widescreen picture of the original theatrical 2.35:1 ratio is jaw-droppingly impressive. The exhaustive commentary is a patchwork of interviews with various key cast and crew members. The only disappointment here is that, unlike the almost identical Region 1 version, this Region 2 package does not include the DVD-ROM features nor the option to play the original theatrical release and the hidden "Ultimate Edition"—the only version here is the Director's Cut Special Edition, although the few extra scenes that make up the "Ultimate" edit can still be found in the "Data Core" section of the second disc. —Mark Walker

Jonathan Mostow Terminator 3: Rise of the Machines starts in high gear and never slows down. The apocalyptic "Judgment Day" of T2 was never prevented, only postponed: John Connor (Nick Stahl, replacing T2's Edward Furlong), now 22 and disconnected from society, is being pursued yet again, this time by the advanced T-X, a sleek "Terminatrix" (coldly expressionless Kristanna Loken) programmed to stop Connor from becoming the saviour of humankind. Originally programmed as an assassin, a disadvantaged T-101 cyborg (Arnold Schwarzenegger, bidding fond farewell to his signature role) arrives from the future to join Connor and future wife Kate (Claire Danes) in thwarting the T-X's relentless pursuit. The plot presents a logical fulfilment of T2's prophecy, disposing of Connor's mother (Linda Hamilton is sorely missed) while computer-driven machines assume control, launching a nuclear nightmare that Connor must survive.

With Breakdown and U-571 serving as rehearsals for this cautionary epic of mass destruction, director Jonathan Mostow wisely avoids any stylistic connection to James Cameron's classics; instead he's crafted a fun, exciting popcorn thriller, humorous and yet still effectively nihilistic, and comparable to Jurassic Park III in returning the Terminator franchise to its potent B-movie roots. —Jeff Shannon

On the DVD: Terminator 3 two-disc set has only one deleted scene, but it's first-class. The "Sgt Candy Scene" is a must-see and, unfortunately, the best thing on the second disc. The rushed HBO documentary shows us far more flash than substance. Better is the Visual Effects Lab that goes more in-depth with four sequences, although you need to wade through a weak interface for each segment. Making your "own" effects isn't that much fun; you can only choose a few effects that change in two scenes. Anyone looking to get the complicated backstory of the trilogy figured out should dig into the "Sky Net Database" and an intricate timeline.

Disc 1 has a 30-second intro from the Governator himself, plus two commentary tracks: director Jonathan Mostow goes into great detail on how the little things (from lighting street scenes to tricks for destroying buildings) count; the second track is pieced together from the actors recorded separately—here Mostow appears with actress Claire Danes doing her first commentary track. The anamorphic 2.40:1 widescreen picture and thunderous DTS 5.1 or Dolby Digital 5.1 sound options deliver everything you would expect. —Doug Thomas

James Cameron, Jonathon Mostow

Doug Liman Freely adapted from Robert Ludlum's 1980 bestseller, The Bourne Identity starts fast and never slows down. The twisting plot revs up in Zurich, where amnesiac CIA assassin Jason Bourne (Matt Damon), with no memory of his name, profession, or recent activities, recruits a penniless German traveler (Run Lola Run's Franka Potente) to assist in solving the puzzle of his missing identity. While his CIA superior (Chris Cooper) dispatches assassins to kill Bourne and thus cover up his failed mission, Bourne exercises his lethal training to leave a trail of bodies from Switzerland to Paris. Director Doug Liman (Go) infuses Ludlum's intricate plotting with a maverick's eye for character detail, matching breathtaking action with the humorous, thrill-seeking chemistry of Damon and Potente. Previously made as a 1988 TV movie starring Richard Chamberlain, The Bourne Identity benefits from the sharp talent of rising stars, offering intelligent, crowd-pleasing excitement from start to finish. —Jeff Shannon

On the DVD:
Created to take advantage of the sequel playing in cinemas at the same time as this release, the "Explosive Extended" edition of The Bourne Identity is neither. Unlike many special editions, this is a still a single disc and several of the original DVD features—like the DTS and commentary tracks—are jettisoned for more extras, most of which are lightweight 3- to 6-minute featurettes. The new beginning and ending is incorrectly advertised as an extended edition—the feature is the same as the theatrical, and the new footage is seen à la carte, with explanations. These "bookend scenes" were shot after 9/11, an insurance policy for the filmmakers who were unsure how a spy film would play. Fortunately, the scenes were dropped and the results here are more a curio than anything else. The new featurettes are ordinary filler, pumped up with film clips and hooks for the sequel. A nice exception is a sound-mix segment and an all-too-quick recollection of author Robert Ludlum. Funny that "explosive" would be word chosen to represent a film that was quite proud of going out of its way not to be just a dumb, explosion-filled action film. —Doug Thomas

Corruption is rife throughout The Wire: The Complete Third Season, which picks up the further adventures of the Baltimore Major Crimes Unit as they continue to wage war on drugs. Only as this is The Wire, that's just the beginnings of their problems. Once again, the show that's rightly being acclaimed as one of America's finest and most intelligent dramas covers the story from all areas. There's the investigating cops on one hand, their targets on the other, and the small matter of heavy political influence both with the Police Department itself, and from the Mayor's Office too.

Cleverly sowing the seeds for the series that'll follow, while lacing the narrative with a wealth of challenging ideas to deal with there and then, season three isn't perhaps the finest of The Wire to date, but it sure does run things close. From its willingness to explore a solution of tolerance to the problem in hand, through to the political ambitions of one man determined to make a name for himself, and the small matter of a drugs operation riddled with in-fighting, it's compelling drama.

It's also unequalled in recent times, courtesy of its outstanding writing, measured performances and willingness to take some bold gambles. Put bluntly, The Wire: The Complete Third Season is a quite brilliant piece of television drama, and easily rewards a purchase. —Simon Brew

David O. Russell A confident hybrid of M*A*S*H, Treasure of the Sierra Madre, and Dr. Strangelove, Three Kings is one of the most seriously funny war movies ever made. Improving the premise of Kelly's Heroes with scathing intelligence, it explores the odd connection between war and consumerism in the age of Humvees and cellular phones. Writer-director David O. Russell's third film (after Spanking the Monkey and Flirting with Disaster) is a no-holds-barred portrait of personal conscience in the volatile arena of politics, played out by one of the most gifted filmmakers to emerge in the 1990s.

George Clooney, Mark Wahlberg, Ice Cube and Spike Jonze (director of Being John Malkovich) play a quartet of US soldiers who, disillusioned by Operation Desert Storm, decide to steal $23 million in gold hijacked from Kuwait by Saddam Hussein's army. Getting the bullion out of an Iraqi stronghold is easy; keeping it is a potentially lethal proposition. By the end of their mercenary mission, the Americans can no longer ignore war-time atrocities, and conscience demands their aid to Kuwaiti rebels abandoned by President George Bush's fickle war-time policy. This is serious stuff indeed, but Russell infuses Three Kings with a keen sense of the absurd, and the entire film is an exercise in breathtaking visual ingenuity. Despite a conventional ending that's mildly disappointing for such a brashly original film, Three Kings conveys the brutal madness of war while making you laugh out loud at the insanity. —Jeff Shannon

Louis Leterrier, Corey Yuen

Inspired by Chris Marker's acclaimed short film La Jetée, 12 Monkeys combines intricate, intelligent storytelling with the uniquely imaginative vision of director Terry Gilliam. The story opens in the wintry wasteland of the year 2035, where a virulent plague has forced humans to live in a squalid, oppressively regimented underground. Bruce Willis plays a societal outcast who is given the opportunity to erase his criminal record by "volunteering" to time-travel into the past to obtain a pure sample of the deadly virus that will help future scientists to develop a cure. But in bouncing from 1918 to the early and mid-1990s, he undergoes an ordeal that forces him to question his own perceptions of reality. Caught between the dangers of the past and the devastation of the future, he encounters a psychiatrist (Madeleine Stowe) who is initially convinced he's insane, and a wacky mental patient (Brad Pitt in a twitchy Oscar-nominated role) with links to a radical group that may have unleashed the deadly virus. Equal parts mystery, tragedy, psychological thriller, and apocalyptic drama, 12 Monkeys ranks as one of the best science fiction films of the 1990s, boosted by Gilliam's visual ingenuity and one of the finest performances of Willis's career. —Jeff Shannon

Sharon Bridgeman

Cameron Crowe Vanilla Sky reunites director Cameron Crowe (Jerry Maguire) with the swoonsome Tom Cruise; adds another sexy Cruz (Penélope) and Cameron Diaz for good measure; and delivers a wildly entertaining, bizarre venture into erotic science fiction. Adapted almost exactly from Spanish filmmaker Alejandro Amenábar's 1997 romantic thriller Open Your Eyes, the film follows David Aames (Cruise) as he falls from his graceful Manhattan perch of inordinate wealth, good looks and new-found love with Sofia (Cruz) because of severe facial disfigurement resulting from a car accident caused by a suicidal ex-lover (Diaz). Reduced to wearing a latex mask and spurned by his friends, what at first promises to be a conventional allegory of redemption via true love is turned on its head as Cruise's character only wins back his princess after a miracle of plastic surgery restores his former beauty. A series of plot twists follow, as waking life, technological advances and nightmares merge to dizzying effect, leaving David face to face with his own mortality. Despite a final conceit to some vague morality, the appeal of the film is the wonderfully callous message conveyed by the whole—money and physical beauty equal happiness and an unabashed vanity perfectly embodied by Cruise and Cruz. —Fionn Meade

On the DVD: Vanilla Sky's anamorphic 1.78:1 widescreen transfer is practically flawless with no visible pixilation, showing off John Toll's excellent cinematography. The audio is also exemplary, particularly with music tracks such as Radiohead's "Everything in Its Right Place". Cameron Crowe's commentary track is excellent and the other extra's consist of a couple of trailers, a stills gallery and an interview with Paul McCartney from Entertainment Tonight in regards to his Golden Globe-nominated song "Vanilla Sky". Two featurettes are included. In the first Crowe follows the surreal theme of the film. The second, "Prelude to a Dream", a "making-of" documentary, is conspicuous for it's lack of interviews or any real material about the making of the film. —Kristen Bowditch

Walter Hill

Brad Anderson, Clark Johnson, Clément Virgo, Edward Bianchi, Gloria Muzio Television really doesn't come much better than this. Criminally ignored by far, far too many people, The Wire has proven itself to be that rarest of things: an intelligent, clever, character-driven show, that's lasted more than one season.

This boxset brings together all the episodes from the maiden series of The Wire, spread across thirteen episodes. Yet those episodes, unlike many in the police genre where the show spends a good deal of its time, are dedicated to just one case. Furthermore, it follows both sides of the case. Thus, there's the Baltimore police department, with its statistics to manage, its internal politics to manage and its chain of command to respect, set against a highly organised drug gang, who too have more than their fair share of problems.

The Wire is a slow burn show, taking time to delicate put its pieces in place. Rarely do you get a dramatic end to an episode, and it's not afraid to humanise and blur the lines between good and bad. But, bluntly, there's nothing—not even The Sopranos—that US TV has broadcast in the last ten years that can hold a torch to it. This first series is genuinely outstanding television, and really deserves your attention. And the good news? Excellent as it is, this first series isn't even the best that The Wire has to offer…—Simon Brew

Daniel Attias, Edward Bianchi, Elodie Keene, Ernest R. Dickerson, Rob Bailey Picking up after the dramatic events of its maiden season, the second series of The Wire achieves something really rather special: it even manages to outclass the first.

For those fresh to the show, surely the best, most intelligent piece of scripted drama to emerge from America in the last decade, the actual premise is fairly simple. Across the thirteen episodes of its season, it charts one case, and the numerous influences upon it. So it devotes roughly equal time to those committing the crimes as it does to those chasing them.

This time, the Baltimore Police Department have twin worries. There's the continuing, festering narrative of events from the season before, along with a new problem when a container of dead bodies turns up at the nearby docks. After initial battles over whose statistics the bodies will be attributed to, a fresh case begins for the embattled officers of the Major Crimes Unit.

Yet season two is about much more than the case itself. Bubbling under the surface are characters with real problems, that take their toll on the day-to-day, while at the docks themselves there are union struggles underway, which also have a part to play. Thanks to, frankly, superb scripting, these various narrative threads are woven together quite brilliantly, and the result is perhaps the finest series of The Wire to date. And that's no small feat.

If you're one of the many who have let The Wire fly under their radar thus far, then you're urged to rectify that. Clearly season one is the logical starting point, but begin your adventure in the knowledge that this second series is simple exceptional. For the rest of the US television industry, this is the standard to aim for. —Simon Brew

Even if you missed the first three seasons (the character guides and thorough episode recaps on HBO's website are recommended), and with only one season left, it's not too late to get in under The Wire. In fact, season 4 is an accessible introduction for those who know The Wire only by its street cred as arguably the very best show on television. For them especially, this season will be, as befitting its theme, a real education. Without resorting to melodramatics that other ratings-challenged series employ to gain that frustratingly elusive audience, The Wire shakes things up this season in a way that is true to the series and its characters. A major character, Dominic West's McNulty, plays a minor role as a contented street cop and family man, while a former supporting player, Jim True-Frost's Roland Pryzbylewski, goes to the head of the class as a new eighth grade teacher at beleaguered Edward Tilghman Middle School. It may take a couple of episodes to orient yourself to the Baltimore backrooms, squad rooms, classrooms, and street corners where The Wire's intense dramas play out, and new viewers may miss something in character nuance, but they will easily grasp the big picture. A politically motivated shake-up sends Major Crimes detectives Freamon (Clarke Peters) and Greggs (Sonja Sohn) to Homicide. The gloves come off in the mayoral race between black incumbent Clarence Royce (Glynn Turman) and idealistic white challenger Tommy Carcetti (Aidan Gillen). Gang leader Marlo (Jamie Hector) quietly and deliberately becomes the city's new drug kingpin, managing to subvert all surveillance efforts. Meanwhile, while "Prez" tries to reach his students, four highly at-risk kids will be drawn into the drug trade.

Mere synopsis does not do The Wire justice. The series deftly juggles its myriad storylines and characters, all of whom make an impression, from Marlo's cold-blooded enforcers, Snoop (Felicia Pearson) and Chris (Gbenga Akinnagbe), to boxing instructor "Cutty" (Chad L. Coleman), determined to keep his young charges off the corners. There is not a false note in the performances or the writing. Richard Price (Clockers) and Dennis Lehane (Mystic River) again contributed episodes. That this series has only been nominated for only one Emmy (for writing) is a travesty. As engrossing as the finest novels and in a class by itself, this isn't television; it's The Wire. —Donald Liebenson

When you experience The Work of Director Spike Jonze, you enter a world where anything can happen and frequently does. From the innovative director of Being John Malkovich and Adaptation., this superior compilation of music videos, documentaries, interviews and early rarities offers abundant proof that Jonze is the real deal—a filmmaker ablaze with fresh ideas and fresh ways of filming them.

While collectors will regret that only 16 of Jonze's 40 plus music videos are included here, this glorious sampling represents the cream of Jonze's bumper crop; for sheer ingenuity it doesn't get any better than this. From the Beastie Boys' popular TV cop-spoof "Sabotage" to the intensely disciplined backwards-filming technique of the Pharcyde's "Drop", it's clear that Jonze has an affinity for inventive street theatre, culminating in the sad/happy vibe of Fatlip's introspective "What's Up Fatlip?" and the pop-jazz effervescence of Bjork's "It's Oh So Quiet". Technical wizardry is also a Jonze trademark, especially in the elaborate "Happy Days" nostalgia of Weezer's "Buddy Holly" and the graceful fly-wire dancing of Christopher Walken to Fatboy Slim's pulsing "Weapon of Choice". No doubt about it: every one of these videos is an award-worthy testament to Jonze's ability to combine hard work with fun-loving spontaneity.

On the DVD: The Work of Director Spike Jonze is a double-sided DVD (one in a series that includes the equally dazzling work of Michel Gondry and Chris Cunningham) accompanied by an informative 52-page booklet. The second side explores Jonze's artistic evolution with an entertaining selection of video rarities and three half-hour documentaries, the best being a revealing and very funny interview with rapper Fatlip after his dismissal from the Pharcyde. Commentaries for the music videos are consistently worthwhile, supporting Jonze's own belief that his best videos were made for artists whose work he genuinely enjoyed. Lucky for us, his pleasure is infectious. —Jeff Shannon

Michael Apted In his 19th screen outing The World is Not Enough, Ian Fleming's super-spy is once again caught in the crosshairs of a self-created dilemma: as the longest-running feature-film franchise, James Bond is an annuity his producers want to protect, yet the series' consciously formulaic approach frustrates any real element of surprise beyond the rote application of plot twists or jump cuts to shake up the audience. This time out, credit 007's caretakers for making some visible attempts to invest their principal characters with darker motives—and blame them for squandering The World is Not Enough's initial promise by the final reel. By now, Bond pictures are as elegantly formal as a Bach chorale, and this one opens on an unusually powerful note. A stunning pre-title sequence reaches beyond mere pyrotechnics to introduce key plot elements as the action leaps from Bilbao to London. Pierce Brosnan undercuts his usually suave persona with a darker, more brutal edge largely absent since Sean Connery departed. Equally tantalising are our initial glimpses of Bond's nemesis du jour, Renard (Robert Carlyle), and imminent love interest, Elektra King (Sophie Marceau), both atypically complex characters cast with seemingly shrewd choices and directed by the capable Michael Apted. The story's focus on post-Soviet geopolitics likewise starts off on a savvy note, before being overtaken by increasingly Byzantine plot twists, hidden motives and reversals of loyalty superheated by relentless (if intermittently perfunctory) action sequences.

Bond's grimmer demeanour, while preferable to the smirk that eventually swallowed Roger Moore whole, proves wearying, unrelieved by any true wit. The underlying psychoses that propel Renard and Elektra eventually unravel into unconvincing melodrama, while Bond is supplied with a secondary love object, Denise Richards, who is even more improbable as a nuclear physicist. Ultimately, this world is not enough despite its better intentions. —Sam Sutherland, Amazon.com

On the DVD: There are three different documentaries on this disc, as well as a "Secrets of 007" featurette that cuts between specific stunt sequences, behind-the-scenes footage and storyboards to reveal how it was all done, and a short video tribute to Desmond Llewelyn ("Q"), who died not long after this movie was released. The first "making of" piece is presented by an annoyingly chirpy American woman and is aimed squarely at the MTV market (most fascinating is watching her interview with Denise Richards in which the two orthodontically enhanced ladies attempt to out-smile each other). "Bond Cocktail" gamely distils all the essential ingredients that make up the classic Bond movie formula—gadgets, girls, exotic locations and lots of action. Most interesting of all is "Bond Down River", a lengthy dissection of the opening boat chase sequence. Director Michael Apted provides the first commentary, and talks about the challenges of delivering all the requisite ingredients. The second commentary is less satisfactory, since second unit director Vic Armstrong, production designer Peter Lamont and composer David Arnold have little in common. There's also the Garbage song video, and the booklet has yet more behind-the-scenes info. The anamorphic CinemaScope picture and Dolby digital sound are as spectacular as ever. —Mark Walker

Cy Endfield One of the last of the classic-era widescreen epics, Zulu was also one of the last war movies to celebrate the virtues of the famous British stiff upper lip. At Rorke's Drift in 1879 a handful of British soldiers, hopelessly outnumbered by 4,000 Zulu warriors, fought one of the most celebrated defensive actions in military history. Zulu tells the story on an epic scale, bringing to life the heroism, courage, loyalty and sacrifice of those desperate hours. This is truly cast-of-thousands filmmaking, with vast action wonderfully captured in widescreen Technirama. John Barry, who also scored Goldfinger in the same year, provides a telling musical accompaniment.

The superb cast includes Stanley Baker and Jack Hawkins, but Zulu's final claim to fame is that it made an instant international superstar of a young actor whose name is Michael Caine. A belated sequel arrived in 1979 in Zulu Dawn, which despite even more spectacular action and a great cast died at the box-office. It is nevertheless well worth seeing.

On the DVD: Zulu on disc has excellent prologic stereo considering the age of the film, while the anamorphically enhanced 2.35:1 transfer is crystal-clear, boasting rich colours, strong contrast and detail and only occasional minor print flaws. The original American trailer, also presented anamorphically enhanced at 2.35:1, is a worthwhile addition. There is a very good new 45-minute "making of" (1.77:1 anamorphic, in stereo), curiously split into two parts. The heart of the programme consists of interviews with survivors from the film, focusing on Stanley Baker's widow. The only let down is lack of input from Michael Caine and composer John Barry. The commentary by film historian Sheldon Hall, author of a forthcoming book on the movie, and Second Unit Director Robert Porter is serious and packed with information. —Gary S Dalkin