Serenity is a film that, by rights, shouldn't have been made. For starters, it's spun out of the short-lived and quickly-cancelled TV series Firefly, which has only itself got the full recognition it deserves on DVD. It then marries up two seemingly incompatible genres, the western and science fiction, has no major stars to speak of, and pretty much has `hard sell' written all over it.

Perhaps that explains its modest box office performance back in 2005. What it fails to reflect, however, is that this is one of the most energetic, downright enjoyable sci-fi flicks in some time. Not for nothing did many rate it higher than the Star Wars movie that appeared in the same year.

It follows renegade captain Mal Reynolds and his quirkily assembled crew, as they work on the outskirts of space, trying to keep out of the way of the governing Alliance. That plan quickly changes when they take on a couple of passengers who have attracted the attention of said Alliance, and thus the scene is set for an action-packed, cleverly written movie that deserves many of the plaudits that have rightly been thrust in its direction.

What's more, Serenity works whether you've seen the TV series that precedes it or not. Clearly fans of the Firefly show will be in their element, but even the casual viewer will find an immense amount to enjoy.

The only real problem is that given the film's box office returns, further adventures of Reynolds and his crew look unlikely. Unless Serenity turns into a major hit on DVD, that is. It's well worth playing your part in making that happen.—Simon Brew

One of the most endearing and intelligent romantic comedies of the 1990s, the Oscar-winning Shakespeare in Love is filled with such good will, sunny romance, snappy one-liners and devilish cleverness that it's absolutely irresistible. With tongue placed firmly in cheek, at its outset the film tracks young Will Shakespeare's overwrought battle with writer's block and the efforts of theatre owner Philip Henslowe (Geoffrey Rush, in rare form) to stage Will's latest comedy, Romeo and Ethel, the Pirate's Daughter. Jokey comedy, though, soon takes a backseat to ravishing romance when the beautiful Viola De Lesseps (Gwyneth Paltrow) disguises herself as a young man to wangle herself an audition in the all-male cast and wins both the part of Romeo and, after much misunderstanding, the playwright's heart. Soon enough, Will's pirate comedy becomes the beautiful, tragic Romeo and Juliet, reflecting the agony and ecstasy of Will and Viola's romance—he—he's married and she's set to marry the slimy Lord Wessex (Colin Firth).

The way that Oscar-winning screenwriters Marc Norman and Tom Stoppard enfold their story within the parameters of Romeo and Juliet (and even Twelfth Night) is nothing short of brilliant—it would take a Shakespearean scholar to dissect the innumerable parallels, oft-quoted lines, plot developments, and thematic borrowings. And most amazingly, Norman and Stoppard haven't forgotten to entertain their audience in addition to riding a Shakespearean roller coaster, with director John Madden (Mrs. Brown) reigning in his huge ensemble with rollicking energy. Along the way there are small gems to be found, including Judi Dench's eight-minute, Oscar-winning turn as a truly regal Queen Elizabeth, but the key element of Shakespeare in Love's success rests on the milky-white shoulders of its two stars. Fiennes, inexplicably overlooked at Oscar time, is a dashing, heartfelt Will and as for Best Actress winner Paltrow, well, nothing she'd done before could have prepared viewers for how amazing she is here. Breathtakingly beautiful, fiercely intelligent, strong-willed and lovestruck—it—it's a performance worthy of Shakespeare in more ways than one. By the film's end, you'll be thoroughly won over—and brushing up your Shakespeare with newfound ardour. —Mark Englehart

It's no disparagement to describe Simon Pegg and Edgar Wright's zombie-rom-com Shaun of the Dead as playing like an extended episode of Spaced. Not only does the movie have the rather modest scope of a TV production, it also boasts the snappy editing, smart camera moves, and deliciously post-modern dialogue familiar from the sitcom, as well as using many of the same cast: Pegg's Shaun and Nick Frost's Ed are doppelgangers of their Spaced characters, while Jessica Stevenson and Peter Serafinowicz appear in smaller roles. Unlike the TV series, it's less important for the audience to be in on the movie in-jokes, though it won't hurt if you know George Romero's famous Dawn of the Dead trilogy, which is liberally plundered for zombie behaviour and mythology.

Shaun is a loser, stuck in a dead-end job and held back by his slacker pal Ed. Girlfriend Liz (Kate Ashfield) is exasperated by his lack of ambition and unceremoniously dumps him. As a result, Shaun misses out on what is apparently the end of the world. In a series of beautifully choreographed and edited scenes, including hilarious tracking shots to and from the local shop, he spectacularly fails to notice the death toll and subsequent zombie plague. Only when one appears in their back garden do Shaun and Ed take notice, hurling sundry kitchen appliances at the undead before breaking out the cricket bat. The catastrophe proves to be the catalyst for Shaun to take charge of his life, sort out his relations with his dotty mum (Penelope Wilton) and distant stepdad (Bill Nighy), and fight to win back his ex-girlfriend. Lucy Davis from The Office and Dylan Moran of Black Books fame head the excellent supporting cast. —Mark Walker

When this popular prison drama was released in 1994, some critics complained that the movie was too long (142 minutes) to sustain its story. 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 novella by Stephen King) allows the story to unfold at its necessary pace, and the effect is dramatically rewarding. Tim Robbins plays a banker named Andy who's sent to Shawshank Prison on a murder charge, but as he gets to know a life-term prisoner named Red (Morgan Freeman), we realize there's reason to believe the banker's crime was justifiable. We also realize 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 that signaled the arrival of a promising new filmmaker—a film that many movie lovers count among their all-time favorites. —Jeff Shannon

Shooting Fish is the kind of movie that evaporates once the end credits roll, but it's lightweight fun while it lasts. An amusing prologue sets the tone: two young orphan boys—one in America, one in England—demonstrate their precocious ability to subvert the strict rules of society. Eighteen years later, the clever Yankee schemer Dylan (Dan Futterman) and techno-geek Jez (Stuart Townsend) are fast friends in London, pulling off a series of royal scams to finance their dream of building a luxurious home for orphans—of course, it's a selfish cause since they're the orphans. Their newly hired secretary Georgie (played by the delightful Kate Beckinsale) goes along with their con games in the belief that their intentions are good, and when she discovers their selfish motivations... well, let's just say the boys (who are both smitten with the charming medical student Georgie) manage to rise to the occasion and do the right thing. Despite a few clever twists, this frothy plot meanders too much to be very involving, but the three young co-stars make it all worthwhile. (Futterman had already played Robin Williams's son in The Birdcage and Beckinsale made a strong impression in The Last Days of Disco.) It's one of those featherweight British comedies that's so good-natured you feel Scroogey if you resist it, and director and co-writer Stefan Schwartz has made the movie just smart enough to hold its own against a wall-to-wall soundtrack of kitschy pop songs. If you don't consider "cute" a derogatory term, this movie will offer an agreeable diversion. —Jeff Shannon

The lovably ugly green ogre returns with his green bride and furry, hooved friend in Shrek 2. The newlywed Shrek and Princess Fiona are invited to Fiona's former kingdom, Far Far Away, to have the marriage blessed by Fiona's parents—which Shrek thinks is a bad, bad idea, and he's proved right: the parents are horrified by their daughter's transformation into an ogress, a fairy godmother wants her son Prince Charming to win Fiona, and a feline assassin is hired to get Shrek out of the way. The computer animation is more detailed than ever, but it's the acting that make the comedy work—in addition to the return of Mike Myers, Eddie Murphy, and Cameron Diaz, Shrek 2 features the flexible voices of Julie Andrews, John Cleese and Antonio Banderas, plus Jennifer Saunders as the gleefully wicked fairy godmother. —Bret Fetzer

Full of verve and wit Shrek is a computer-animated adaptation of William Steig's delightfully fractured fairy tale. Our title character (voiced by Mike Myers) is an agreeable enough ogre who wants to live his days in peace. When the diminutive Lord Farquaad (John Lithgow) evicts local fairy tale creatures (including the now-famous Seven Dwarfs, Pinocchio and the Gingerbread Man), they settle in the ogre's swamp and Shrek wants answers from Farquaad. A quest of sorts starts for Shrek and his new pal, a talking donkey (Eddie Murphy), where battles have to be won and a princess (Cameron Diaz) must be rescued from a dragon lair in a thrilling action sequence. The story is stronger than most animated fare but it's the jokes that make Shrek a winner. The PG rating is stretched when Murphy and Myers hit their strides. The mild potty humour is fun enough for the 10-year-old but will never embarrass their parents. Shrek is never as warm and inspired as the Toy Story films, but the realistic computer animation and a rollicking soundtrack keeps the entertainment in fine form. Produced by DreamWorks, the film also takes several delicious stabs at its cross-town rival, Disney. —Doug Thomas, Amazon.com

Studio: Tcfhe Release Date: 06/15/2004 Run time: 394 minutes Rating: Nr

Racking up impressive box office numbers right across the globe, the arrival of The Simpsons Movie onto the big screen proved, for many, to be more than worth the wait. But with its DVD release, there's a compelling argument that Springfield's finest have come back to their natural home.

The film itself is primarily Homer-centred, with the head of The Simpsons family seemingly consigning Springfield to certain doom when he dumps his waste where he shouldn't. But, in the true spirit of the show, the plot takes a relative back seat to the antics of America's first family.

And it's those antics that offer the film's gold. As you'd hope, it boasts several laugh-out-loud moments, from visual gags (the rock and hard place being a favourite) through to the by-now infamous Spider-pig. There's not quite enough material to keep the chuckle counter going for the full duration of The Simpsons Movie, and the criticism that it's effectively three episodes strung together has some truth to it. But you'd still be hard-pushed to complain for one key reason: The Simpsons Movie is grand entertainment, with plenty of rewatch potential.

So while you can add us to the queue of people who wanted more Mr Burns, and while it doesn't quite measure up to some of the show's best episodes, The Simpsons Movie still delivers, and does it with some quality. And Spider-pig is a work of genius…—Jon Foster

Six Feet Under is not just a smartly written, sublimely acted soap that happens to be set in a funeral home; it's a profound mixture of emotional truths and whimsical black comedy that uses its setting to comment upon the way we live, with the omnipresent spectre of death throwing life's problems into sharp relief. Creator Alan Ball (American Beauty) understands modern neuroses more than most, it seems, and his rich sense of the absurd is given added potency, not to say piquancy, by the sometimes comically ridiculous juxtaposition of life and death.

The first series introduces the Fisher family, whose already weighty emotional baggage is bolstered by the sudden demise of their patriarch, who has willed the family funeral home to his two initially hostile sons, wayward Nate (Peter Krause) and in-the-closet David (Michael C Hall). Teenage younger sister Claire (Lauren Ambrose) and repressed mother Ruth (Frances Conroy) have their own problems, as does put-upon mortician Federico (Freddy Rodriguez). The first year's unfolding story arc includes the family's resistance to a hostile big corporation, Nate's budding romance with wild card Brenda (stunningly good Rachel Griffiths), David's attempts to reconcile his Christian faith with his homosexuality, Claire's self-destructive boyfriend trouble and Ruth's gradual realisation that, although she was a wife and is a mother, she's entitled to have a life too.

On the DVD: Six Feet Under, Series 1 spreads 13 episodes across four discs. Care has been taken to reflect the show's stylish look in everything from the novel external packaging to the menu layouts. Picture is good, but only standard 4:3 ratio, though sound is vivid Dolby 5.1. The bonus features include two episode commentaries from creator Alan Ball, who happily chats about the pilot and the season finale, both of which he wrote and directed. There's a 22-minute "Behind the Scenes" featurette—standard HBO fare with cast interviews. More interesting is "Under the Main Titles", which explores Digital Kitchen's creation of the fascinating opening title sequence and talks to genius composer Thomas Newman about his theme music. The music can also be heard in an audio-only track as well as in Kid Loco's "Graveyard" remix. Text biographies, episode synopses and Web links complete the extras. One minor niggle: there's no "Play All" facility, so you can't indulge the luxury of watching uninterrupted episodes back-to-back. —Mark Walker

In some ways, HBO's Six Feet Under plays kid brother to the Sopranos: it's spunkier, less refined, chancier and a bit of a punk. Nevertheless, the show, set in the southern California mortuary Fisher and Sons, deserves its place in the pantheon of great television series. The initial series was a showcase for the most original characters, including tight-lipped brother David (Michael C Hall) coming out of the closet, emotionally trippy mom Ruth (Frances Conroy) and the most complex girlfriend on the face of the planet, Brenda (Rachel Griffiths). Slowly, the major force in series two 2 is the unassuming lead, Peter Krause. Part of the long line of good-looking actors who never get respect because they make it look too easy, Krause finds the perfect blend of optimism and wonderful, bittersweet anguish as Nate, the prodigal son.

The opening series' happy ending is forgotten as relationships change, the business is still under fire from the evil conglomerate Kroehner, and a lively dream sequence is just around the corner. As with the first series, creator Alan Ball lets many others direct and write the show, but his stamp is all over it. The eccentricities of the characters are shaped, and not always suddenly. Take daughter Claire (Lauren Ambrose), who sheds her bad boyfriend only to find more complex relationships on her road to discovering her own groove. One person in the mix is Ruth's beatnik sister (Patricia Clarkson, in an Emmy-winning role). She's a joyous embodiment of thriving—if ageing—counter-culture. Another new character is Nate's old girlfriend, the granola-loving Lisa (Lili Taylor). With Brenda heading down another destructive course, Nate is at more than one crossroads by series' end. For fans who groove with the wild, serio-comedic world of the Fishers (and let's face it, many didn't), the second series goes down like a fine meal of fusion cuisine. —Doug Thomas

So much anticipation pools up around the concluding episode of this concluding season that you might be tempted to head straight for said finale, titled "Everyone's Waiting" (and it's so rich you'll find yourself drawn to repeated viewings). But if you can avoid that impulse, it's worth following the full build-up of one crisis after another to get the real payoff. On an episode-by-episode basis, Six Feet Under's fifth season has a decidedly uneven quality, shifting in tone far more drastically, say, than the intensely dark season 4. Character traits that have already been developed at length begin to seem annoyingly repetitious—Nate—Nate's (Peter Krause) self-centered frustration and furious lashings out, Billy's (Jeremy Sisto) resurgent psychosis—like leitmotifs run amuck. But this season also benefits from the knowledge we've developed, over the years, of the Fisher family and their loved ones, so that what they end up facing has a real emotional wallop, sometimes jump-starting the drama just where it seems to be in danger of churning itself into circles.

It's hardly a spoiler to mention that 6fu's final season, though bookended by the promise of new beginnings (a wedding in episode 1 to a departure for new prospects in the 12th episode), centers around loss and a pivotal death. The scripts contain more than an occasional sense of inconsequential filler, while some of the recurring thematics seem forced (we see David continue to cope with the scars from his abduction in the previous episode via over-obvious imagery of facing his "inner demons"). Other issues receive especially compelling treatment, above all Brenda's (Rachel Griffiths) desire to have a child and David and Keith's (Mathew St. Patrick) choice to adopt. But the real strength of this season lies in several gripping performances. Ruth (Frances Conroy) touches off a complex series of reactions, simultaneously sympathetic and judgmental, transcending the tendency to appear as a neurotic caricature. The super-talented Lauren Ambrose brings off Claire's emerging self-awareness and maturity with moving touches (she's also got some of the funniest moments as she takes on a stint as a temp in scenes that call to mind the hysterics of The Office). Griffiths' Brenda for her part undergoes a parallel maturing process. And as George's daughter Maggie, Tina Holmes adds a welcome tone of contrast.

6fu, of course, has always been about the paradoxes of finality. But anyone who has developed an attachment to the show's unique tone and creative sensibility will have a tough time saying goodbye. Alan Ball outdoes himself with his script (and direction) for the finale, "Everyone's Waiting," seeding it with echoes from the pilot episode that will enchant aficionados. And the famous fast-forward visions coursing through Claire's imagination as she heads down the highway give the perfect seal to this set of characters. Extras include especially insightful commentaries, including Ball on the finale, retrospectives, and a mini-feature on 6fu's cultural impact. It's safe to say that the show leaves some pretty unforgettable impressions in its wake. —Thomas May

The secret to "getting" Tim Burton's Sleepy Hollow is appreciating that it's the film he's wanted to make his whole life. After the intimately expressive Edward Scissorhands, this is his most personal venture. Burton's Gothic style—apparent through all his work—stems from a childhood misspent watching the horror movies of Roger Corman, Hammer studios, and anything featuring his idol Vincent Price. For Sleepy Hollow Burton surrounded himself with his usual collaborators and friends; the production was almost entirely shot on location outside London to reunite him with key members of the crew he'd used a decade earlier in Batman, and also to capture the atmosphere of Hammer horror on its own turf.

Johnny Depp's Constable Ichabod Crane warmly emulates the mannerisms and enunciation of Peter Cushing. In a prologue scene Burton plays out a long-held fantasy by pitting Depp against Christopher Lee. And it is fantasy that categorises the film throughout, from the mythical fireside telling of the Hessian Horseman's origin (a mesmerising Christopher Walken), to the bright spots of colour saturating Crane's childhood dreams (featuring Burton's real-life love Lisa Marie). These moments literally shine out amid a meticulously crafted look for the film, which underwent a bleaching process to tone things down to an almost monochrome hue. The Scooby Doo-like whodunnit plot, concerning family lineage and petty vengeance, is naturally secondary to what Burton is aiming to achieve through photography and performance, which includes expressive cameos from Michael Gambon, Michael Gough, Jeffrey Jones, and Iain McDiarmid. Yet despite all these subtleties, it's also his best action movie: the swordplay betters anything from his earlier work, while the windmill escape and subsequent coach chase is truly breathtaking in choreography and execution. If you find a cheesy grin on your face for most of the film, you've "got" it. If not, see Hammer's Dracula at once! —Paul Tonks

Nice concept, shaky execution—that about sums up the mixed blessings of British actor Peter Howitt's intelligent but forgivably flawed debut as a writer-director. It's got more emotional depth than most frothy romantic comedies and its central idea—the parallel tracking of two possible destinies for a young London professional played by Gwyneth Paltrow—is full of involving possibilities. It's essentially a what-if scenario with Helen (Paltrow) at the centre of two slightly but significantly different romantic trajectories, one involving her two-timing boyfriend (John Lynch)and the other with an amiable chap (John Hannah) who represents a happier outcome. That's the film's basic problem, however: the two scenarios are so romantically unbalanced (one guy's a total cad, the other charmingly sincere) that Helen inadvertently comes off looking foolish and needlessly confused. Still, this remains a pleasant experiment and Howitt's dialogue is witty enough to keep things entertaining. It's also a treat for Paltrow fans; not only does the svelte actress handle a British accent without embarrassing herself but she gets to play two subtle variations of the same character, sporting different wardrobes and hairstyles in a role that plays into her glamorous off-screen persona. —Jeff Shannon

OK, let's get all the disclaimers out of the way first. Despite its colourful (if crude) animation, South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut is in no way meant for kids. It is chock full of profanity that might even make Quentin Tarantino blanch and has blasphemous references to God, Satan, Saddam Hussein (who's sleeping with Satan, literally) and Canada. It's rife with scatological humour, suggestive sexual situations, political incorrectness and gleeful, rampant vulgarity. And it's probably one of the most brilliant satires ever made. The plot: flatulent Canadian gross meisters Terrance and Philip hit the big screen and the South Park quartet of third graders—Stan, Kyle, Kenny, and Cartman—begin repeating their profane one-liners ad infinitum. The parents of South Park, led by Kyle's overbearing mom, form "Mothers Against Canada", blaming their neighbours to the north for their children's corruption and taking Terrance and Philip as war prisoners. It's up to the kids then to rescue their heroes from execution, not mention a brooding Satan, who's planning to take over the world.

To give away any more of the plot would destroy the fun but this feature-length version of Trey Parker and Matt Stone's Comedy Central hit is a dead-on and hilarious send-up of pop culture. And did we mention it's a musical? From the opening production number "Mountain Town" to the cheerful anti-profanity sing-along "It's Easy, MMM Kay" to Satan's faux-Disney ballad "Up There", Parker (who wrote or cowrote all the songs) brilliantly shoots down every earnest musical from Beauty and the Beast to Les Misérables. And in advocating free speech and satirising well-meaning but misguided parental censorship groups (with a special nod to the MPAA), Bigger, Longer & Uncut hits home against adult paranoia and hypocrisy with a vengeance. And the jokes, while indeed vulgar and gross, are hysterical; we can't repeat them here, especially the lyrics to Terrance and Philip's hit song, but you'll be rolling on the floor. Don't worry, though—to paraphrase Cartman, this movie won't warp your fragile little mind unless you have something against the First Amendment. —Mark Englehart

The highest grossing film in Japanese box-office history, Hayao Miyazaki's Spirited Away (Sen To Chihiro Kamikakushi) is a dazzling film that reasserts the power of drawn animation to create fantasy worlds. Like Dorothy in The Wizard of Oz and Lewis Carroll's Alice, Chihiro plunges into an alternate reality. On the way to their new home, the petulant adolescent and her parents find what they think is a deserted amusement park. Her parents stuff themselves until they turn into pigs, and Chihiro discovers they're trapped in a resort for traditional Japanese gods and spirits. An oddly familiar boy named Haku instructs Chihiro to request a job from Yubaba, the greedy witch who rules the spa. As she works, Chihiro's untapped qualities keep her from being corrupted by the greed that pervades Yubaba's mini-empire. In a series of fantastic adventures, she purges a river god suffering from human pollution, rescues the mysterious No-Face, and befriends Yubaba's kindly twin, Zeniba. The resolve, bravery and love Chihiro discovers within herself enable her to aid Haku and save her parents. The result is a moving and magical journey, told with consummate skill by one of the masters of contemporary animation. —Charles Solomon

Of all the spinoff TV incarnations of Star Trek, Deep Space Nine had the hardest job persuading an audience to watch. By all accounts, Gene Roddenberry had concerns about the idea before his death in 1991. It took two more years to develop, and when it finally aired in 1993 reasons for that concern were evident right away. The show was dark (literally), characters argued a lot, no one went anywhere, and the neighbouring natives were hardly ever friendly. Yet for all that the show went against the grain of the Great Bird's original vision of the future, it undeniably caught the mood of the time, incorporating a complex political backdrop that mirrored our own.

In the casting, there was a clear intent to differentiate the show from its predecessors. Genre stalwarts Tony Todd and James Earl Jones were considered for Commander Sisko before Avery Brooks. The one letdown at the time was that Michelle Forbes did not carry Ensign Ro across from The Next Generation, but when the explosive Nana Visitor defiantly slapped her hand on a console in the pilot episode, viewers knew they were in for a different crew dynamic. In fact, the two-part pilot show ("The Emissary") is largely responsible for DS9's early success. Mysterious, spiritual, claustrophobic, funny, and feisty, it remains the most attention-grabbing series opener (apart from the original series') the franchise has had. The first year may have relied on a few too many familiar faces—like Picard, Q, and Lwaxana Troi—but these were more than outweighed by refreshingly detailed explorations of cultures old and new (Trill, Bajoran, Cardassian, Ferengi). As it turned out, Deep Space Nine was the boldest venture into Roddenberry's galaxy that had been (or ever would be) seen. —Paul Tonks

Only Kira Nerys would risk going to war over an earring. With the witty and wise second-season opener "The Homecoming," the writers started taking chances with the direction of Deep Space Nine—and the payoffs are immediate and far-reaching. It's the first episode in a complex trilogy involving the fate of the tenuous Bajoran Provisional Government, an extremist group called the Circle, and a legendary member of the resistance whom Sisko believes might be able to unite Bajor.

Continuing its blend of action, mystery, intergalactic politics, and religion, the second season gave prominent parts to Jadzia Dax ("Invasive Procedures," "Playing God," "Blood Oath"), Kira Nerys ("The Collaborator," in which Odo gives the first sign of his feelings toward her), the Cardassian Garak ("Cardassians"), Odo ("The Alternate"), Chief O'Brien ("Whispers," "Tribunal"), Commander Sisko ("Paradise"), and Quark ("Profit and Loss"), and Dr. Bashir developed relationships with both O'Brien ("Armageddon Game") and Garak ("The Wire").

Highlight episodes include the alternate-universe "Crossover," which pays homage to the original series' "Mirror, Mirror," and the two-part spotlight on the Maquis (first introduced in The Next Generation), a loose-knit organisation of disenfranchised Federation colonists who resort to terrorist methods to provoke a new war between the Federation and the Cardassians. By the end of season 2, the only thing DS9 lacked was a really good villain. It got three for the price of one. Turns out the Dominion (first discovered in the underappreciated Ferengi spotlight "Rules of Acquisition") is a trinity of evil: the Founders, the Vorta, and the Jem'Hadar, those born-and-bred bad guys whose mission in life is to serve the Founders. The season-closer "The Jem'Hadar" is an intelligent, powerful episode that reveals all—and nothing—about the Dominion. —Kayla Rigney

Deep Space Nine's third season begins eventfully, with Sisko promoted to Captain and being given a prototype warship equipped with a cloaking device, while Odo learns where he came from. In the two-part opening tale, this clever gambit is played to hook viewers into the idea of DS9 becoming an ongoing mystery/conflict show. Why the sudden intense change in format? Mostly it was to ensure the show continued to thrive, when a rather greedy production hierarchy fast-tracked Voyager onto the air mid-season (cue unnecessary crossover episode with Tuvok). Of greater concern was ratings thief Babylon 5, which played its counter-Trek cards at precisely the right time. Fortunately the result (initially at least) was a genuine boost for DS9.

Cast members seemed to have hit their stride and played off one another more assuredly than before. For example, Odo's character took several additional interesting twists, especially in his relationship with Kira. Rene Auberjonois had a very good year, directing two episodes to boot. Avery Brooks had begun this trend with the previous year's penultimate show. The real surprise was seeing Jonathan Frakes's name working behind the camera on three occasions, because he also appeared on screen in his alternate rogue Riker role, when Thomas dramatically steals the Defiant. Other welcome cameos that aided the feeling of casual camaraderie included the return of Lwaxana Troi, as well as first appearances by Quark's mother, the spooky Founder Leader, the lovely Leeta, and the sneaky Eddington. Clint Howard—a cult Trek figure—was briefly welcomed back, and with the many faces of Jeffrey Combs another was born. Stories advanced the complicated Bajoran/Cardassian healing process, while simultaneously brewing potential conflicts far worse than the behind-the-scenes ratings war. —Paul Tonks

The fourth series of Deep Space Nine can be summed up in one word: Klingons! The show's producers apparently felt beset from all sides. Babylon 5 was a huge hit, as was Star Trek: Voyager, the flagship of new channel UPN. Stepping up DS9's action quotient seemed to be the answer. Time would tell, however, whether doing so via Trek's tried-and-tested former bad guys was the best solution. Opening with a special two-hour extravaganza, the new year was immediately unfamiliar. Dennis McCarthy's original theme—despite winning an Emmy—had been deemed too subdued. As its upbeat new rendition kicked off, the station was seen in battle and swarming with activity. Moments later, we met old/new crewmember Worf, whose sudden appearance was the result of a brewing invasive strategy by the Klingons. This initiated the first of many loyalty shifts, as the Cardassians became the victims. With plenty of re-appearances by Gowron, Kor, and Kurn, it was clear that an ongoing space opera was being crafted. Dukat revealed a tragedy-ridden daughter; Odo's relationship with his people (and Kira) became increasingly melancholy; and even the Jem'Hadar foot soldiers were given a sympathetic angle by their drug addiction.

Adding to the layers of ambiguity about Earth's (read: the producers') position over being at war, was the "outing" of two recurring characters as rebel activists. Lest we forget the homely/spiritual side of the Captain, time was spent with a future version of Jake, with his father (Brock Peters), and on the nature of his role as "the Emissary." Avery Brooks worked behind the camera a couple of times, but this year the surprise was LeVar Burton directing five shows. There was still time for comedy: the Ferengi warped back to Roswell in 1947 and Bashir played James Bond. But the year will be remembered predominately for its violence. One of the episodes Burton directed had its fight scenes drastically cut, while the series as a whole won an Emmy for its space battle effects.—Paul Tonks

Deep Space Nine's fifth season was a turning point from which there was no going back. Character and information overload took over, and the complicated twists and turns in the build up to war either hooked viewers securely, or sent them away with a headache. The Klingon faction instigated by Worf's arrival was occasionally played for laughs, but mostly their hardheaded personalities made all efforts at diplomacy moot. In the opening episode a chilling possibility is proposed as to what might be: have the Changelings infiltrated already and replaced key personnel? Some fans saw this as a flawed X-Files-style development. Nevertheless it sowed a seed of insidious suspicion, affecting all the principal casts' relationships with one another, even allowing Odo and Quark an opportunity to confess a degree of friendship. Expanding on the new theme of duplication, the crew also made numerous trips to their mirror-universe counterparts.

As well as new uniforms and the milestone 100th episode, Nana Visitor and Alexander Siddig got to comically disguise the arrival of their child during filming. More laughs came from the fan favourite "Trials and Tribble-ations," with CG allowing Sisko and crew to interact with Kirk and a cameo from Leonard Nimoy. Avery Brooks began taking a backseat, partly a result of the now-overcrowded cast. Although Sisko's destiny would be foreshadowed by his first vision and the introduction of the Pah-wraiths, the Captain was in an increasingly sulky mood. Brooks only directed one episode, allowing room for regulars LeVar Burton and Rene Auberjonois to do more behind the camera. Joining them were Alexander Siddig, Michael Dorn and even Andrew Robinson. Available space started to seem hardly deep enough. —Paul Tonks

Warping into syndication in 1987, Star Trek: The Next Generation successfully launched its seven-season "continuing mission" of the starship Enterprise, and this classy DVD boxed set gathers the show's inaugural season in crisp picture clarity and dazzling 5.1-channel sound. A ratings leader with a sharp ensemble cast, this revamped Trek honoured series creator Gene Roddenberry's original Trek concept, nurtured by returning veterans like producer Robert H. Justman and writers D.C. Fontana and David Gerrold. Several first-season episodes have original-series counterparts, and while the season was awkwardly inconsistent for all involved (including Roddenberry's heir apparent, producer Rick Berman), in retrospect the series began on remarkably solid footing.

Patrick Stewart was perfect as Enterprise Captain Jean-Luc Picard, while Marina Sirtis struggled with a wretched hair bun and an ill-defined character, eventually blessing Counselor Troi with delicate nuance. Denise Crosby made a strong but underutilized impression as Security Chief Tasha Yar, and left the series before season's end, allowing writers to develop Klingon Lieutenant Worf (Michael Dorn) into a fan favourite. Brent Spiner transcended Spock comparisons with his triumphant portrayal of the android Lieutenant Commander Data; and while Jonathan Frakes was accepted as First Officer Will Riker, fans ultimately rejected Wil Wheaton as ensign Wesley Crusher, the teenaged son of the ship's doctor (Gates McFadden). Still, these 25 episodes laid a firm foundation for subsequent seasons, and highlights include the Raymond Chandleresque "holo- novel" of "The Big Goodbye," Data's backstory in "Datalore," the Klingon rituals of "Heart of Glory," and a Romulan encounter in "The Neutral Zone." The DVD supplements (all on the seventh disc) are good enough to make anyone wish for more: four featurettes recall myriad first-season challenges, filled with insider perspective and enough NextGen trivia to satiate all but the most obsessive Trekkers back on Earth. Looking back, it's easy to see why NextGen lived long and prospered. —Jeff Shannon

To the delight of Star Trek fans everywhere, the stellar second season of The Next Generation (1988-89) belonged to Lieutenant Commander Data. As the Enterprise-D's resident android, Data (in the Emmy-worthy hands of Brent Spiner) would gain legal sentience in the season highlight "The Measure of a Man," and his increasingly "human" personality would refine itself in such diverse episodes as "Elementary, Dear Data" (Data as Sherlock Holmes), "The Outrageous Okona" (a misfire, but worthy from the Data perspective), and "Pen Pals." While Gates McFadden (Dr. Crusher) took a sabbatical of then-unknown duration (gracefully replaced by original Trek guest star Diana Muldaur as Dr. Pulaski), the remaining bridge crew would match Data's vitality: Riker grew a handsome beard and proved his command potential; Worf became richly nuanced in "The Icarus Factor," and met his match (and mate) in guest Suzie Plakson's fiercely Klingon sexpot K'Ehleyr; Wesley matured admirably, despite continuing fan disapproval; Betazed culture emerged as Troi locked horns with her eccentric mother, Lwaxana (Majel Barrett, in a recurring role); and La Forge made good on his promotion to chief engineer while Chief O'Brien (Colm Meaney) flawlessly rode on Geordi's coattails.

In a crucial series development, Guinan (special guest Whoopi Goldberg) revealed a connection to Q in her helpful capacity as Ten-Forward's enigmatic host, while Q himself (John DeLancie) precipitated the Enterprise's first, fateful encounter with the Borg (in the suspenseful "Q Who?"). Through it all, Patrick Stewart brilliantly intensified all of Picard's renaissance qualities (especially in the dazzling "Time Squared"), exploring the captain's facets with equal measures of curiosity, fascination, amusement, courage, and philosophical insight. Despite its lame finale with the money-saving clip-show "Shades of Gray," season 2 charted a warp-nine course to the even better season 3. —Jeff Shannon

Star Trek: The Next Generation's third year was an important development in syndicated television. After two shaky years, Paramount nonetheless decided the franchise still had plenty to do. Their confidence was bolstered by two significant factors. First, cast uncertainties were finally settled: Gates McFadden (Dr. Crusher) was back for good; Denise Crosby (Tasha Yar) regretted her first-year departure, and so contrived a return in the Emmy Award-winning "Yesterday's Enterprise"; and Whoopi Goldberg happily continued her actor's-scale contributions.

Second, after the show had survived the previous year's writers' strike, new writing blood revitalised both characters and ideas: Data experienced fatherhood ("The Offspring"), Worf's Klingon heritage kick-started a huge story arc ("Sins of the Father"), and Picard got a saucy vacation ("Captain's Holiday"). There were memorable star cameos: John de Lancie played more mischief alongside Corbin Bernsen ("Déjà Q"); Dwight Schultz played truant in a gentle warning about addiction ("Hollow Pursuits"); and pleasing fans even more was Mark Lenard as Spock's dad ("Sarek"). The strongest evidence that TNG would continue for some time was the trend-setting cliffhanger finale. Fans and critics still agree that "The Best of Both Worlds" (properly introducing the Borg) was one of the greatest tricks ever pulled on TV to make audiences come back for more. —Paul Tonks

Season 4 of Star Trek: The Next Generation seemed like the year of family. After quickly resolving the breathtaking cliffhanger of "The Best of Both Worlds," the show took pains to show some of what the Federation was fighting for. We meet Picard's brother, Data's father, Tasha's sister, and Worf's adoptive human parents, plus an old flame with a surprise son in tow. The Klingon heritage subplot that begins here and builds to the cliffhanger finale ("Redemption") would continue to the show's end and through into Worf's reappearance in Deep Space Nine.

The year also explored the implications of Data, Lwaxana Troi, Geordi, and Dr. Crusher being in love, while Miles O'Brien (given a first name at last) married Keiko. There were old friends revisited: the ubiquitous Q in a hilarious Robin Hood romp ("Qpid"), perennial screwup Reg Barclay ("Nth Degree"), and even the mysterious Traveler from season 1's "Where No One Has Gone Before" (played by Eric Menyuk, who was nearly cast as Data). There were new races introduced who would have an important bearing on Trek's destiny: the Cardassians and the Trill. Most of all, though, there were the one-off stories that impressed: "Clues," with its memory-loss mystery; "Night Terrors," with some genuine frights; and "Identity Crisis," with possibly the only time Trek technology really helped Geordi solve a puzzle. Then right at the end, reinforcing the year's familial theme, Denise Crosby returned as her own half-Romulan daughter! —Paul Tonks

The fifth season of Star Trek: The Next Generation saw some of the very best of all 178 shows. "Darmok" had the feel of a "classic Trek" episode, dealing with language as metaphor. "The First Duty" challenged Wesley Crusher's loyalties. The season closer "Time's Arrow" (which concluded in year 6) ranks as one of the best TNG cliffhangers, and treats fans to canon-changing story lines and tons of in-jokes. Best of all was the painfully melancholy "The Inner Light," in which Picard experiences an alternate lifetime. There were great guest stars—Paul Winfield ("Darmok"), Ashley Judd ("The Game"), Kelsey Grammar ("Cause and Effect"), Famke Janssen ("The Perfect Mate"), and Jerry Hardin ("Time's Arrow")—and as always there were contributions from Q, Lwaxana, and Barclay, too.

After the confidence of the previous two years, however, year 5 often disappointed by not seeing a good idea through to the end. Denise Crosby was swept back under the carpet in the Klingon soap opener ("Redemption, Part II"). No one could make the prospect of Deep Space Nine attractive enough to Michelle Forbes, so her fantastic performance as Ensign Ro seems wasted in retrospect. And no one could reschedule Robin Williams to guest star, so we had Matt Frewer instead ("A Matter of Time"). Of all stories to use Leonard Nimoy in, "Unification" wallowed in Romulan politics instead of anything emotionally engaging. Gene Roddenberry wanted to introduce a gay character, but mere months after his death all we got was the trite "The Outcast." This was inarguably where the series weakened, without the Great Bird overseeing what was going on. Worst of all, his hard-as-nails bad guys the Borg were given a touchy-feely side in "I, Borg." Fans and critics now appreciate that the behind-the-scenes focus had shifted from The Next Generation to the next spinoff, and it would never fully return.

As the sixth season of Star Trek: The Next Generation went into production, everyone knew that attentions would soon be permanently divided by the debut of Deep Space Nine. Sure enough, that meant crossovers ("Birthright"), guest stars, and references back and forth. The sense of baton-passing drew the TNG family closer, however. Directorial debuts begun in season 5 allowed for repeat group-huddle ownership of several shows. Jonathan Frakes bettered "The Quality of Life" by "The Chase," which finally offered an explanation why most races in the Trek universe are humanoid with knobbly foreheads. Patrick Stewart crowbarred a Western into the franchise in "A Fistful of Datas." LeVar Burton introduced the far more exciting Riker clone Thomas in "Second Chances." But here we still find an inability to follow through a good idea, since it was intended for the clone Tom to replace the real Will. Barclay outstayed his welcome with a lackluster "Ship in a Bottle" (despite a hammy cameo from Stephanie Beacham) after he'd injected creepiness into "Realm of Fear." The same happened with Q and the painfully weak "True Q" contrasted by the philosophically challenging "Tapestry," in which Picard faced the decisions of his youth.

Yet ultimately the year provided more memorable moments than either year 5 did or year 7 would. There was the fun of a pint-sized Starfleet in "Rascals," the shocking comment on political torture in "Chain of Command," the endless Matrix-like guessing game of reality in "Frame of Mind," and even a jokey genre nod often called "Die Hard Picard" instead of its official title, "Starship Mine." The two biggest attention-drawing moments came via stellar cameos. There was the bittersweet sight of James Doohan revisiting the original Enterprise bridge on "Relics," then a quick contribution by Stephen Hawking in the cliffhanger "Descent." Both were attempts at keeping TNG the connoisseur's Trek incarnation of choice. —Paul Tonks

The seventh and final season of Star Trek: The Next Generation will always remain a curiosity in TV sci-fi history. Despite the end being definite, despite Deep Space Nine taking over, despite knowing there'd be a movie six months after the series' end, and despite Babylon 5 starting that year with its predetermined story arc, there is nothing here to suggest things were coming to a close. Wesley finally gets dispatched ("Journey's End"), but everyone was waiting for that anyway. Some continuity was attempted: there's a sequel to season 1's "The Battle" ("Bloodlines"), Alexander follows the Klingon soap saga through ("Firstborn"), the Maquis and the Cardassians are mentioned several times, and there are final installments for Lwaxana Troi, Barclay, Lore, Guinan, and Ro Laren. None of this brings any form of resolution, however.

The one-off story lines seem to throw out ideas that beg for development. "Force of Nature" suggests frequent high-warp travel is damaging the very fabric of space/time. "Parallels" has Worf experiencing multiple realities, including one in which the Borg won at Wolf 359. "Lower Decks" finally introduces some secondary crew from the more than a thousand supposedly supporting Picard and company. There are even hints at some romance at long last between Dr. Crusher and Picard as well as Worf and Troi. In the long run, even after terrific guest spots from Trek alumni Armin Shimerman and Robin Curtis, and from Paul Sorvino and Kirsten Dunst, there's one thing for which the final year is remembered: "All Good Things..." is a near-perfect denouement for the show. With terrific production values and FX, not to mention standout performances from all concerned, it was an amazing surprise to have Q suggest there'd been a story arc right from the get-go. If only this final script had been fully conceived earlier on, The Next Generation might not have been overshadowed by the glut of TV sci-fi that followed in its wake. —Paul Tonks

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

Four-disc set includes:Episode IV, A New Hope (Special Edition)—with commentary by George Lucas, Ben Burtt, Dennis Muren and Carrie Fisher; Easter egg: credit roll (2 min)Episode V, The Empire Strikes Back (Special Edition)—with commentary by George Lucas, Irvin Kershner, Lawrence Kasdan, Ben Burtt, Dennis Muren and Carrie Fisher; Easter egg: credit roll (2 min)Episode VI, Return of the Jedi (Special Edition)—commentary by George Lucas, Lawrence Kasdan, Ben Burtt, Dennis Muren and Carrie Fisher; Easter egg: credit roll (2 min)Bonus disc: all-new bonus features, including the most comprehensive feature-length documentary ever produced on the Star Wars saga, and never-before-seen footage from the making of all three filmsSubitles (all material across all four discs): English, Danish, Finnish, Norwegian, Swedish

Click here to see detailed information on the special features included on the bonus disc.

Amazon.co.uk Review

George Lucas's original Star Wars trilogy is a clever synthesis of pop-cultural and mythological references, taking classic fairy-tale themes, adding more than a dash of Arthurian legend, and providing cinematic high adventure inspired as much by Kurosawa's Samurai epics as by Flash Gordon and Buck Rogers. As a result, audiences of all ages can find something to identify with in Luke Skywalker's journey from disaffected teenager dreaming of adventure to Jedi Knight and saviour of the galaxy. He not only rescues a Princess, but discovers she's a close relative. And if there's a lesson to be gleaned from the Skywalker clan, it's that no matter how bad things get in the average dysfunctional family, it's never too late for reconciliation.

Originally released in 1977, Star Wars, the first film, was made as a standalone. Perhaps that's why Obi-Wan Kenobi seems a tad inconsistent in his attitude towards his old pupil Anakin Skywalker, and perhaps also why Luke is allowed to develop a guilt-free crush on Princess Leia. Lucas's story, told from the point of view of the two bickering droids (a device taken from Kurosawa's Hidden Fortress), also borrows freely from Errol Flynn's Robin Hood, as does John Williams's seminal Korngold-inspired music score.

Thanks in equal part to Leigh Brackett's screenplay and Irvin Kershner's direction The Empire Strikes Back (1980) is the most grown-up instalment in the series. The basic fairy-tale is developed and expanded, with the principal characters experiencing emotional turmoil—blossoming romance, mixed feelings and confused loyalties—amid a very real threat of annihilation as Darth Vader's motivations become chillingly personal. Luke's quasi-Arthurian destiny is complicated still further by the half-truths of his wizardly mentors; and swashbuckler Han Solo finds the past catching up with him, quite literally in the form of bounty hunter Boba Fett. The film is graced by more fabulous landscapes (ice, forest, clouds), more unforgettable new characters (Yoda), more groundbreaking special effects (the asteroid chase), and John Williams's finest score.

The difficult third film, 1983's Return of the Jedi, seems schizophrenic in its intentions, hoping to please both the kiddies who bought all the toys and an older audience who appreciated the narrative's epic and mythological strands. The result is a film that splits awkwardly into two. One thread, which might be subtitled "The Redemption of Anakin Skywalker", pursues the story of the Skywalker family to a cathartic conclusion. The other thread, which might be described as "The Care Bears Go to War", attempts to say something profound about primitivism versus technological sophistication, but just gets silly as furry midgets doing Tarzan whoops defeat the Emperor's crack legions.

In 1997 Lucas re-released the three original films in digitally remastered "Special Edition" versions, in which many scenes have been restored and enhanced (some would say "unnecessarily tinkered with"). Despite loud and continued criticisms from fans, these Special Editions are now considered definitive, if only by Lucasfilm. —Mark Walker

"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

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

An adaptation of the Neil Gaiman novel of the same name, Stardust brings a strong cast together for an enjoyable family feast, with plenty to enjoy.

Stardust mixes in romance and adventure, all in a fantasy movie guise, as it follows Tristan on his quest to retrieve a fallen star for the beautiful Victoria. Only it soon becomes clear that there's a lot more going on as Tristan makes his journey (not least a companion more diverting than the aforementioned Victoria). Michelle Pfeiffer, for instance, returns to high profile movie making (after quite a break) in the role of the evil witch, while there's space too for Robert De Niro's pirate and an odd cameo from Ricky Gervais.

Seemingly one of a wealth of family films that made it out of the blocks off the success of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Stardust doesn't quite hit those heights, but it has quite a sporting go. It's an uneven tale, albeit one told with enough passion and enthusiasm to encourage you to cut it some slack. And when it gets to the end of the last reel, it's hard to feel shortchanged by what you've just seen.

For while Stardust has problems, it also has laughs, adventure, action and a whole lot in its corner to recommend it. And it is worth your time and attention. —Jon Foster

A gloriously over-the-top treat, Paul Verhoeven's Starship Troopers takes the militaristic moralising of Robert Heinlein's pulp classic and sets about undermining it mercilessly. Johnny Rico (Casper Van Dien) desperately wants to join the Mobile Infantry and kill some Earth-threatening alien bugs. He also desperately wants Carmen (Denise Richards), but only gets to fulfil one ambition in the second of Verhoeven's futuristic satires (also cowritten with his RoboCop scriptwriter Ed Neumeier).

Set in a fascistic future where kids must do military service to qualify as citizens, own property or even have babies, the film's dark Vietnam and Nazi-era parallels are all the more disturbing given its deceptively sunny Beverly Hills 90210 teenage cast (though scenery-chewing veteran Michael Ironside steals the movie as tough-talking Lt Rasczak). The CGI arachnids are among the most convincing and dangerous-looking creatures ever seen on screen, and with the movie clocking up the highest number of blanks ever fired on a film set, it's also pretty loud! Verhoeven went on to be Executive Producer of the Roughnecks: The Starship Troopers Chronicles animated TV series a couple of years later.

On the DVD: Starship Troopers in this DVD incarnation can now be played continuously on one side of the disc (the original Region 2 release version was that crime against the DVD format, a "flipper"). You'll also feel really spoiled by the extras here: five deleted scenes (approximately six minutes) pad out Carmen's love triangle problems. There are impressive screen tests for Denise Richards and Casper Van Dien (three-and-a-half minutes). An eight-minute featurette zips by with key interviews and fact flinging. And a real treat is three scene developments with layers of FX work explained by Verhoeven. But what makes this DVD essential is the director's enthusiastic commentary alongside screenwriter Ed Neumeier: dissing astrology, making a stand for feminist issues, saying how he went nude to placate the actors for their shower scene, and drooling with praise for his FX team, Verhoeven makes a fascinating statement that "war makes fascists of us all". After a studio disclaimer, and beginning with his reaction to the film's critique in Time Magazine, this is no-holds-barred fun. —Paul Tonks

While the plot of this Australian film may seem a bit familiar (the Ugly Duckling meets Dirty Dancing), the humourous tone and superb dance sequences will make you forget the movie's predictability. Scott (Paul Mercurio) is a champion ballroom dancer who wants to dance "his own steps". Fran is the homely, beginning dancer who convinces Scott that he should dance his own steps...with her. Complicating matters are Scott's domineering mother (Pat Thompson), a former dancer herself, who wants her son to win the Australian Pan-Pacific Championship (the same contest she lost years ago), and a conniving dance committee that is determined that "there are no new steps!" The dancing is enjoyable, yet not overwhelming, and the movie strives hard not to take itself too seriously (the beginning of the film is even styled as a pseudo-documentary). Strictly Ballroom, while not so subtly imparting its moral ("A life lived in fear is a life half-lived"), is a funny romp that's sure to be a crowd pleaser. —Jenny Brown, Amazon.com

You can never accuse director Danny Boyle of lacking ambition. Sunshine sees one of Britain's most successful directors switching genre once more, as he tackles this gripping science fiction flick about a quest to re-ignite the dying sun. And he nails it, too, adding another plus to a CV that's already covered a kids' film (Millions), a big Hollywood blockbuster (The Beach), horror (28 Days Later), and a pair of British classics (Trainspotting and Shallow Grave).

Bursting out of the gate at a terrific pace, Sunshine then doesn't take its foot off the accelerator for much of its near-two hour running time. Set around the crew of the Icarus II who find themselves on a life-saving mission, things soon start going awry, and while you'll find no plot spoilers here, Boyle proves a dab hand at ratcheting up tension on the way to the big finale.

If anything, it's the finale to Sunshine that does let the side down, not quite living up to the standard of what preceded it. But such is the strength of the ride to that point that it's hard to complain. Especially when the cast, led by the always-magnetic Cillian Murphy, put in believable performances and get heavily into the spirit of the film.

Topped off with cracking effects that belie its modest budget, Sunshine is a real treat, not just for sci-fi fans, but for anyone who likes a strong, tense, thrilling night in front of a movie. —Jon Foster

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

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

Thelma and Louise is as extraordinary and admirable a film in retrospect as it was when it was first shown. Nothing has dated about its tale of two waitresses who decide that being outlaws and eventual death on their own terms is better than putting up with any more nonsense from husbands, boyfriends, rapists and offensive strangers.

Ridley Scott's direction is almost impeccable; Callie Khourie's script is intelligent, without being patronising, about the lives of blue-collar women; and the central performances from Geena Davis and Susan Sarandon are finely judged in the way they show hidden capacities in two ordinary people gradually opening up. The secondary performances are remarkable as well, most notably Harvey Keitel as the policeman with a heart who tries and fails to save them, and Brad Pitt as the beautiful boy whose casual thievishness dooms them even further.

On the DVD: Thelma and Louise comes to DVD in its original widescreen ratio of 2.35:1 and with high quality Dolby 5.1 sound that brings out fine details of the Country score and the atmospheric noises of fast cars and lonely places. This special edition also comes with two commentaries, one in which Ridley Scott discusses his conception of the film in painstaking detail, and a delightful one in which Khourie, Davis and Sarandon charmingly bitch their way through the whole film. There is more of this in the excellent making-of documentary, "The Last Journey", which includes a subtly different alternate ending, as well as a comprehensive set of deleted scenes, notably a more tender alternate version of the Davis/Pitt love scene. —Roz Kaveney

The comedic genius of This Is Spinal Tap is confirmed by the fact that a majority of studio executives were utterly clueless about its brilliance. As a first-time director and cowriter, Rob Reiner must have felt simultaneously frustrated and elated, knowing that the obtuseness of movie executives was a clue to his debut project's potential greatness. Now, of course, the clarity of hindsight and the rarity of superior satire have turned This Is Spinal Tap into one of the funniest documentary spoofs of all time. Reiner and the members of "Tap" (Christopher Guest, Michael McKean, Harry Shearer) couldn't have picked a better target for their satire, because heavy metal music in the early 1980s was already a borderline case of self-parody. From the bizarre, premature deaths of the band's drummers to the backstage squabbles over sexist cover art and meddling groupies, this movie scores about a hundred comedic bull's-eyes for lampooning every possible aspect of rock pomposity in the age of Kiss. It's a virtual bible of rock & roll irreverence, so accurate in its observations that it's become a tour-bus classic for real bands around the world. On the one-to-ten scale of satirical inspiration, This Is Spinal Tap is like the modified amplifiers that Christopher Guest so hilariously demonstrates: this one goes to 11. —Jeff Shannon

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

From a script cowritten with his fellow Monty Python veteran Michael Palin, Terry Gilliam pulled out all the stops on his prodigious imagination for this comedy-fantasy from 1981. Film critic Pauline Kael was right when she wrote, "This may be one of those rare pictures that suffers from a surfeit of good ideas," because there's not enough plot to keep pace with the sheer inventiveness of Gilliam's filmmaking. That hasn't stopped Time Bandits from becoming a classic, of sorts, attracting a cult following as a semi-reunion of the Python gang (with Palin and John Cleese making splendid appearances) and a rousing adventure of near-epic proportions. It's about a kid named Kevin (Craig Warnock) who joins a band of mischievous dwarves on a jaunt through various eras and epochs. They've stolen a map to holes in the space-time continuum that belongs to the Supreme Being (suitably played by Sir Ralph Richardson), and as Kevin survives a variety of heroic adventures, including an encounter with King Agamemnon (Sean Connery) and an Evil Genius (David Warner) who pursues the coveted map using his nefarious magical powers. As a warm-up for Gilliam's later, even more ambitious fantasies, Brazil and The Adventures of Baron Munchausen, this is a dazzling dose of cinematic whimsy, and Gilliam doesn't compromise the darkness of his tale with an artificially upbeat ending. There's as much menace in Time Bandits as there is an awesome sense of wonder, and that gives the movie an extra kick of timeless appeal. —Jeff Shannon

Total Recall, director Paul Verhoeven's mega-budget sci-fi action blockbuster from 1990, began its production life as a very different movie. An adaptation of the Philip K. Dick short story "We Can Remember It for You Wholesale", it was originally conceived of with Richard Dreyfuss starring as a Walter-Mitty-like character who experiences a variety of artificially induced fantasies. But with Arnold Schwarzenegger on board, the final version took a rather different direction. The Austrian Oak plays a normal working man who discovers his entire reality has been invented to conceal a scheme for planetary domination on Mars. Oscar-winning special effects and violent action propel the twisting plot, in which Arnold manipulates his manipulators in a world of dazzling high technology. Verhoeven (Robocop, Starship Troopers) indulges his usual penchant for gratuitous bloodshed, but the movie has enough cleverness to rise above its excesses. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

On the DVD: Not many extras, but excellent picture and sound. The reds of Mars are a terrific way of testing your television's colour definition in this digital transfer. Combine that with testing your speakers in the opening scene to Jerry Goldsmith's pounding score boosted to Dolby 5.1, and what an ideal home cinema demo disc this is! Two trailers show the way a film should and shouldn't be advertised, since the teaser gives nothing away but the main advert tells you everything. A seven-minute behind the scenes featurette with cast interviews and on-set action rounds out the extras package. —Paul Tonks

As sci-fi action blockbusters go, they don't come much bigger than Transformers. Maybe it's because of the subject matter: it's based on a toy line from the 1980s, concerning giant robots from outer space engaged in a civil war that pits the heroic Autobots against the evil Decepticons. They have the ability to disguise themselves as vehicles and other mechanical objects, transforming back into robots when it's time to stomp each other senseless. As a premise, it's rather silly. But it's also very simple, and that's why it works.

The heroes are truly heroic: the noble and powerful Autobot leader Optimus Prime is one of the most iconic characters of the 1980s, and getting the original voice actor (Peter Cullen) to give him life was a stroke of genius. The villains, meanwhile, are just plain evil: Decepticon leader Megatron (voiced by Hugo Weaving) is motivated by absolute power, and his soldiers are not above a bit of wanton destruction to achieve their goals. Mix in a bit of mysticism in the form of the Allspark, the source of life for all Transformers, and the result is pure cinematic magic.

It's not a perfect film: there are some characters and sub-plots that are unnecessary and which go nowhere, and at almost three hours, it's a lot of movie. But the Transformers themselves, rendered in CGI, have a very realistic size and weight on screen, and look particularly good as they switch from one mode to the other. Moreover, director Michael Bay is smart enough to realise that appealing to kids doesn't mean pandering to them—the cutest robot on screen is a manic little psychotic killer with the apt name Frenzy. The humans in the film, meanwhile, keep the film grounded, whilst never detracting from the real robot stars. Unlike The Matrix trilogy, which tried to be too clever, or The Lord of the Rings films, which were too clever, Transformers is probably the best science fiction epic since the original Star Wars trilogy. —Robert Burrow

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

Fire Walk With Me is a rare spin-off that refuses to repeat what worked on TV. Despite mannerisms and "draggy" spots, Twin Peaks emerged as one of the wonders of American TV: scary and funny, erotic and serious, offensive and freakish. It meandered in an always interesting but sometimes frustrating way through two seasons, then signed off with a cliff-hanger upon cancellation. When Lynch announced he would continue the saga with a theatrical movie, fans assumed he would: (a) pull out the stops to show what evils really lurked behind the pretty façade of that small town, and (b) wrap up a storyline which tailed off with Agent Dale Cooper (Kyle MacLachlan) possessed by the evil spirit "Bob". As it happens, Lynch delivered on (a) but refrained from fulfilling clause (b), opting to do a prequel—adapted in part from The Secret Diary of Laura Palmer, a tie-in novel by Jennifer (Boxing Helena) Lynch—which sets up the series by following the last week in the life of the "prom queen from Hell".

Fire Walk With Me assumes you will be familiar with the series (some bits are incomprehensible unless you paid attention while other bits are just incomprehensible), making it most accessible to Twin Peaks initiates though sometimes deliberately offensive to them. It then omits several of the show's stars (Michael Ontkean, Richard Beymer, Joan Chen, Sherilyn Fenn) and a great many of the "lovable" aspects (wry jokes, damn fine coffee), relegating MacLachlan to a walk-on since the story happens before Cooper was assigned to Twin Peaks. Some instances of joyless sex and violence exceed anything Lynch could do on television, but for the most part he creates an atmosphere of dread through edgy performances, unsettling lighting and sound effects and sheer grimness. Without the catchphrases and the quirky charm, the film never feels cuddly in the way the TV show did, but it is one of Lynch's finest works and, though deeply uncomfortable, a TV spin-off which ranks with the best in both media.

On the DVD: The DVD is Region 0 with a widescreen print, augmented for 16x9 televisions. It holds a better-looking transfer than previous video or laserdisc releases and offers an eerie red room/blue rose menu. However the disc offers absolutely no notes, trailers, crib sheets, bios, or other extra features. —Kim Newman

Twister was a mega-million-dollar blockbuster—helmed by a director (Dutchman Jan de Bont) hot off another scorcher hit (Speed)—that flaunted state-of-the-art digital effects and featured a popular leading actress (Helen Hunt) who would win an Academy Award for her next film (As Good As It Gets). But ask anybody who's seen it and they'll tell you who the real star of Twister is: the cow. Not to give anything away, but the cow is one of those inspired little touches (like, say, Bronson Pinchot's career-making cameo in Beverly Hills Cop) that adds a touch of personality to a gigantic Hollywood production. The story is blown out the window after an impressive prologue in which Hunt's character, as a little girl, witnesses her daddy being sucked into a tornado. Basically, Hunt and Bill Paxton are thrill-seeking meteorologists chasing twisters in order to study them (and help warn people of them, of course) with a new technology they've developed. If you thought the Kansas tornado in The Wizard of Oz was every bit as scary as the Wicked Witch of the West, then this may be the movie for you. —Jim Emerson

In the six-part British "vampire-slaying" mini-series Ultraviolet we discover that UV light is used (both in surgery and via high-tech weaponry) to identify people who have been infected with a disease labelled "Code 5". It's transmitted via a bite to the neck, but at no point in the series is the word "vampire" used. Instead, in the second episode ("In Nomine Patris") the nickname "Leech" is introduced. We learn that it was this disease, these "Leeches", that were responsible for the Fire of London, and that one in 20 people are already infected. In the opening episode, policeman Michael Colefield (Jack Davenport) is recruited into the secretive CIB. He meets its introverted priest-chief Pearse (Philip Quast), the emotionally driven Dr Angela March (Susannah Harker) and the bullish heavyweight Vaughan (Idris Elba). Spinning around Mike's suddenly complicated life are his best friend's jilted fiancée Kirstie (Colette Brown) and old flame Frances (Fiona Dolman). In later hard-hitting episodes we see a 12-year-old boy stab his teacher priest to death ("Mea Culpa") and the capture of a "Leech" ("Persona Non Grata"). This intriguing series ends having tied together most of its threads, but dangles worrying implications at the viewer... not so much to suggest a sequel as to hammer home everything at stake. —Paul Tonks

Highly influential, When Harry Met Sally revitalised (in 1988) the moribund romantic comedy genre, made a superstar of Meg Ryan, and in two minutes of heavy breathing gave cinema one of its most memorable scenes. Set over 12 years in New York, young professionals Harry (Billy Crystal) and Sally (Ryan) go from meeting to becoming friends to, well—this is a romantic comedy. Benefiting from an observant and witty script by Nora Ephron, it also offers insight into the differences between men and women. More importantly it's very funny, though the most hilarious scene is also the least believable: Sally is really too conventional to do that in a crowded restaurant. Knowingly modern, the picture's snappy one liners, neurotic honesty and straight-to-camera interludes are in the tradition of Woody Allen's New York Jewish humour, a prime example being Annie Hall (1976), while the inspired use of standards not only made a star of Harry Connick Jnr. but started a trend developed in Everyone Says I Love You (1996) and Love's Labour's Lost (2000). Perfectly played, with excellent support from Carrie Fisher, When Harry Met Sally is the archetypal modern romantic comedy.

On the DVD: There's an excellent 33-minute documentary made in 2000 which interviews all the key players talking candidly not so much about how the film was made but why, and revealing just how much of it is actually based upon director Rob Reiner and star Billy Crystal's own experiences and personalities (the story about Reiner acting out the fake orgasm scene for Meg Ryan is priceless). There are seven short deleted scenes (easy to see why they didn't make the final cut) and a commentary track by Reiner, which contains a lot of space and does little more than repeat the information in the documentary. The anamorphically enhanced 1.77: 1 picture though a touch grainy in dark scenes is generally rich and detailed with excellent colour. Audio is stereo, and only blossoms when there is a song on the soundtrack. There are 14 subtitle options including English for Hard of Hearing.—Gary S Dalkin

The Work of Director Michel Gondry invites the lucky viewer into a wonderland of childlike imagination. Before the Versailles-born Gondry turned his creative ingenuity to feature films (beginning with the underrated Human Nature and the 2004 Jim Carrey comedy Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), these 27 music videos and assorted "stories and things" formed a legacy of supreme cleverness, suggesting a creative lineage from the pioneering film magic of Georges Méliès to the groundbreaking experimental films of Norman McLaren.

It's perfectly fitting that the accompanying 75-minute documentary is titled "I've Been 12 Forever," because Gondry (b.1964) never lost the sense of wonder and inventiveness that children display when their minds are allowed to flourish in a creative environment. No wonder he's best known for his dazzling collaborations with Icelandic pop star Björk, resulting in music videos (seven included here) that redefined the magical potential of the medium. Each, in its own way, is a masterpiece of the fantastic.

What's also remarkable about Gondry's work is its technical progression, from the homemade crudeness of his earliest videos for the French band Oui Oui, to the technical wizardry of Kylie Minogue's "Come Into My World", in which the Australian pop star is seamlessly multiplied as she strolls around a busy Parisian intersection; like many of Gondry's videos, it's a stunning "how-did-they-do-that?" work of art, reminiscent of Zbigniew Rybcynski's prize-winning 1982 short "Tango". From the hilarious dreamworld of the Foo Fighters' most popular video "Everlong" to the painstaking pixilation of Gondry's videos for the White Stripes (one made entirely of animated Lego blocks), this DVD is packed with Gondry's tireless pursuit of perfection; he'll do whatever's necessary, no matter how simple or complex, to achieve perfect harmony between song, artist, and visual concept. All the while, he's drawing from a seemingly endless well of inspiration, as evident in the delightful 52-page booklet of stories, drawings, photos, and interviews that chronicle the eternal sunshine of a brilliant mind. —Jeff Shannon

X-Men 2 picks up almost directly where X-Men left off: misguided super-villain Magneto (Ian McKellan) is still a prisoner of the US government, heroic bad-boy Wolverine (Hugh Jackman) is up in Canada investigating his mysterious origin, and the events at Liberty Island (which occurred at the conclusion of X-Men) have prompted a rethink in official policy towards mutants—the proposed Mutant Registration Act has been shelved by US Congress. Into this scenario pops wealthy former Army commander William Stryker, a man with the President's ear and a personal vendetta against all mutant-kind in general, and the X-Men's leader Professor X (Patrick Stewart) in particular. Once he sets his plans into motion, the X-Men must team-up with their former enemies Magneto and Mystique (Rebecca Romjin-Stamos), as well as some new allies (including Alan Cumming's gregarious, blue-skinned German mutant, Nightcrawler).

The phenomenal global success of X-Men meant that director Bryan Singer had even more money to spend on its sequel, and it shows. Not only is the script better (there's significantly less cheesy dialogue than the original), but the action and effects are also even more stupendous—from Nightcrawler's teleportation sequence through the White House to a thrilling aerial dogfight featuring mutants-vs-missiles to a military assault on the X-Men's school/headquarters to the final showdown at Stryker's sub-Arctic headquarters. Yet at no point do the effects overtake the film or the characters. Moreso than the original, this is an ensemble piece, allowing each character in its even-bigger cast at least one moment in the spotlight (in fact, the cast credits don't even run until the end of the film). And that, perhaps, is part of its problem (though it's a slight one)—with so much going on, and nary a recap of what's come before, it's a film that could prove baffling to anyone who missed the first installment. But that's just a minor quibble—X-Men 2 is that rare thing, a sequel that's actually superior to its predecessor. —Robert Burrow

For a movie that would like to think of itself as the future of the action / espionage picture, xXx uses a surprising number of jokes and stunts lifted directly from the Roger Moore Bond era while the actual premise resembles a sex-change for Nikita. Vin Diesel's Xander Cage—an extreme sports daredevil recruited by spymaster Samuel L Jackson for a covert mission in Prague—may be Blofeld-bald, pumped-up with testosterone, tattooed like a graffiti-covered wall and given to driving sports cars off bridges for fun, but he turns out to be a disappointingly square goodie-goodie when the quips and bullets are flying. Even the slinky heroine (Asia Argento), a double agent within a mad ex-Soviet gang called Anarchy 99, laughs at the idea that a walking cue ball with three Xs tattooed on his neck could ever be a secret agent.

There's one stunt scene that will be remembered as a classic, as xXx triggers an avalanche and snowboards ahead of the fall. But there's too much of the falling-out-of-planes, straddling-and-defusing-jet-propelled-germ-bombs, blasting-every-baddie-in-the-place business that makes it too familiar. Enough material for several great trailers, but next time they'll need a script. —Kim Newman

On the DVD: xXx comes loud and proud to DVD, with Dolby 5.1 sound and the kind of sharp screen transfer you'd expect for a movie of this magnitude. From beautiful scrolling menus based on the tattoo artwork to the brash music, this disc epitomises everything an extreme sports release should be: special features are offered in the "Zander Zone" and include a whole host of behind-the-scenes action and commentaries, made all the more interesting by Rob Cohen's reluctance to use CGI and Vin Diesel's willingness to be thrown in at the deep end. If there's one thing you should avoid, though, it's the Gavin Rossdale music video—unless of course you want to see a grown man's vanity on screen. —Nikki Disney