A daring experiment in unconventional narrative inspired by Arthur C Clarke's short story "The Sentinel", 2001: A Space Odyssey is a visual tone poem (barely 40 minutes of dialogue in a 139-minute film) that charts a phenomenal history of human evolution. When Stanley Kubrick recruited Clarke to collaborate on "the proverbial intelligent science fiction film", it's a safe bet neither the maverick auteur nor the great science fiction writer knew they would virtually redefine the parameters of the cinema experience with the result. From the dawn-of-man discovery of crude but deadly tools in the film's opening sequence to the journey of the spaceship Discovery and metaphysical birth of the "star child" at film's end, Kubrick's vision is meticulous and precise. In keeping with the director's underlying theme of dehumanisation by technology, the notorious, seemingly omniscient, computer HAL 9000 has more warmth and personality than the human astronauts it is supposedly serving. (The director also leaves the meaning of the black, rectangular alien monoliths open for discussion.) This theme, in part, is what makes 2001 a film like no other, though dated now that its post-millennial space exploration has proven optimistic compared to reality. Still, the film is timelessly provocative in its pioneering exploration of inner and outer-space consciousness. With spectacular, painstakingly authentic special effects that have stood the test of time, Kubrick's film is nothing less than a cinematic milestone—puzzling, provocative and perfect. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

Such a simple idea—yet so fiendishly complex in the execution. 24, as surely everyone knows by now, is a thriller that takes place over 24 hours, midnight to midnight, in 24 one-hour episodes (well, 45-minute episodes if you extract the ad breaks). Everything to take place in real time—on-screen and off-screen time the same—which means no flash-backs, no flash-forwards, no nice handy time-dissolves. Every strand of the plot has to be dovetailed and interlocked to make sure that things happen just when they should, in the right amount of time. Not that easy.

Creator Robert Cochran and his team of writers and directors have done a pretty impressive job in putting the jigsaw together and keeping the tension ratcheted up high, as Federal Agent Jack Bauer (Kiefer Sutherland) hares around LA trying to stall an assassination attempt on a black Presidential candidate and rescue his wife and daughter from the clutches of the Balkan baddies. Twists, turns, revelations and cliffhangers are tossed at us with satisfying regularity. It's not perfect: we get some hokey plot devices (instant amnesia, anybody?) and the final twist, once you start thinking back, makes no sense whatsoever. There are altogether too many huggy family moments ("I love you, Dad." "I love you, son"); and as for überbaddie Dennis Hopper's "Serbian" accent…

Even so, this is undeniably mould-breaking TV. Sutherland, rescuing his career from the doldrums in one heroic leap, fully deserves his Golden Globe. Sets and locations are artfully deployed—we gain a real sense of LA's splayed-out geography—and Sean Callery's score is a powerful, brooding presence. Like Murder One and The Sopranos, 24 is one of those series future TV thrillers will have to measure themselves against.

On the DVDs: 24 is released in a six-disc box set. On discs 1- 5 there are no extras, but disc 6 includes the "alternative" ending and a preview of Series 2, presented by an urbane Kiefer Sutherland, that tells us precisely nothing. The transfer, in 16x9 widescreen and 2.0 Dolby Digital sound, does the high production values of the original every justice.—Philip Kemp

Jack Bauer is having another one of his "very bad days" in the second series of the ground-breaking real-time thriller 24. Once again the hours are ticking by with more guaranteed cliffhangers than a convention of mountain climbers. Holed up in a Los Angeles condo and estranged from his daughter, Jack is no longer on the government payroll; unfortunately for him, this small fact doesn't seem to matter to President David Palmer and the NSA who call him back in to the CTU and give him 24 hours to infiltrate a terrorist organisation who are planning to detonate a dirty bomb in the city of angels. All Jack wants is to get his daughter out of the city, unfortunately Kim's new employer, the abusive father of the child she is nannying, has other ideas.

Fans of the original won't be disappointed, as there are more than enough shock moments in the first few hours to hint at the climactic build-up to come, while newcomers can quickly get involved in the lives of Jack and his family. There are some new characters to bolster the veteran cast and, interestingly (although not surprisingly given the outcome of the first series), Jack's character has taken an altogether darker, more psychopathic turn. The danger the characters find themselves in also has a much more global impetus, grounded as it is in the war against terrorism. Although the territory is more familiar this time around, this second series is just as much a high-tension, taut, adrenaline-fuelled ride as the first series, and one that will have you glued to your TV for the next 24 hours. —Kristen Bowditch

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

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

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

History will place an asterisk next to A.I. as the film Stanley Kubrick might have directed. But let the record also show that Kubrick—after developing this project for some 15 years—wanted Steven Spielberg to helm this astonishing sci-fi rendition of Pinocchio, claiming (with good reason) that it veered closer to Spielberg's kinder, gentler sensibilities. Spielberg inherited the project (based on the Brain Aldiss short story "Supertoys Last All Summer Long") after Kubrick's death in 1999, and the result is an astounding directorial hybrid. A flawed masterpiece of sorts, in which Spielberg's gift for wondrous enchantment often clashes (and sometimes melds) with Kubrick's harsher vision of humanity, the film spans near and distant futures with the fairy-tale adventures of an artificial boy named David (Haley Joel Osment), a marvel of cybernetic progress who wants only to be a real boy, loved by his mother in that happy place called home.

Echoes of Spielberg's Empire of the Sun are evident as young David, shunned by his trial parents and tossed into an unfriendly world, is joined by fellow "mecha" Gigolo Joe (played with a dancer's agility by Jude Law) in his quest for a mother-and-child reunion. Parallels to Pinocchio intensify as David reaches "the end of the world" (a Manhattan flooded by melted polar ice caps), and a far-future epilogue propels A.I. into even deeper realms of wonder, just as it pulls Spielberg back to his comfort zone of sweetness and soothing sentiment. Some may lament the diffusion of Kubrick's original vision, but this is Spielberg's A.I., a film of astonishing technical wizardry that spans the spectrum of human emotions and offers just enough Kubrick to suggest that humanity's future is anything but guaranteed. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

On the DVD: A perfect movie for the digital age, A.I. finds a natural home on DVD. The purity of the picture, its carefully composed colour schemes and the multifarious sound effects are accorded the pin-point sharpness they deserve with the anamorphic 1.85:1 picture and Dolby 5.1 sound, as is John Williams's thoughtful music score. On the first disc there's a short yet revealing documentary, "Creating A.I.", but the meat of the extras appears on disc two. Here there are good, well-made featurettes on acting, set design, costumes, lighting, sound design, music and various aspects of the special effects: Stan Winston's remarkable robots (including Teddy, of course) and ILM's flawless CGI work. In addition there are storyboards, photographs and trailers. Finally, Steven Spielberg provides some rather sententious closing remarks ("I think that we have to be very careful about how we as a species use our genius"), but no director's commentary. —Mark Walker

Terence Stamp as a drag queen—an Aussie drag queen? Darling, you'd better believe it. In Stephan Elliott's delirious exercise in ultra-camp meets outback macho, Stamp plays an ageing trans-sexual who, with two of his equally high-glossed pals, heads off for a cabaret engagement in Alice Springs. Priscilla is their chosen vehicle, a school bus painted an outrageous purple. The culture-clash comedy that ensues is none too unpredictable: the local Ockers, initially contemptuous, soon find the spangled and bewigged trio can out-talk, out-drink and if necessary, out-punch them; everything ends in a warm glow of mutual tolerance and appreciation. Elliott maybe hits the feelgood button a little too hard, but it's impossible not to be swept along by the sheer brash energy of the film. The bitchy dialogue snaps and crackles, the costumes and Fellini-esque dance numbers are to die for, and Stamp and Co.—enjoying themselves no end—play the whole thing to the hilt and some way beyond it. —Philip Kemp

This deluxe five-disc package shows off not only the merits of the films on offer but the wide possibilities of the DVD medium. Even if you're among the many that only rate two or three of the Alien films, this is still an essential purchase. (The jury is still out on the interesting-but-muddy Alien 3, directed by David Fincher—who went on to make Seven and Fight Club—while Alien: Resurrection by Jean-Pierre Jeunet of Delicatessen fame is the nearest the series has come to an ordinary movie.)

Although more than 20 years old, Ridley Scott's Alien (1979) has hardly dated. It's a film of suspense and terror rather than action and excitement, as disturbing (if illogical) as ever, thanks to Swiss-artist HR Giger's visionary monster design, rooted by a clutch of interesting Anglo-American actors (Sigourney Weaver, Yaphet Kotto, Ian Holm, John Hurt, Veronica Cartwright, Harry Dean Stanton, Tom Skerritt). Weaver, making her career breakthrough here, slowly emerges from the pack as the survivor, but the sequel, Aliens (1986), really puts her acting skills (for which she was Oscar-nominated) centre-screen, as the maternal warrior-woman whose compassion makes her fitter to survive than the gung-ho space marines. Titanic director James Cameron's action chops are demonstrated best in the series' duel between Ripley and the "bad mother" alien queen. Watched back-to-back, even the less-satisfying later films work as developments of Weaver's Ripley character, as she becomes a tired martyr in Alien 3 (1992) and is reborn as a part-alien clone in Alien: Resurrection (1997).

In this box set, all four films are presented in widescreen aspect ratios derived from pristine prints allowing you to discern more in the shadows than you get in even the best video editions. The imaginatively designed interactive menus flash the logos and computer codes of Weyland-Yutani (the evil corporation in the films) helping you to "access transmission". The digital English soundtrack can be augmented with optional subtitles in English, Swedish, Norwegian, Danish, Finnish, Portuguese, Hebrew, Polish, Czech, Hungarian and Icelandic (impress your friends by reeling off the Hebrew for "Get away from her, you bitch"). Alien has an informative audio commentary by Ridley Scott (whose obsession with detail, see for example his recent Gladiator, suits him perfectly to the task of talking you through his typically hyper-designed films). Also included are deleted scenes and outtakes (such as the until-now-legendary sequence showing the ship's captain in a cocoon, plus a few clearer looks at the original beastie), several trailers, tons of production paintings and stills, the storyboard, an alternate music track and the original score in isolation.

The sequels all have trailers, but the extras diminish with each disc. The "Director's Cut" included on Aliens (17 crucial minutes longer than the original theatrical release, which means you find out Ripley's first name is Ellen) has an interview with Cameron and some backstage footage. Alien 3 contains a "making of" documentary that actually covers all three films, while Alien: Resurrection only has a brief making-of "featurette" (oddly, neither Alien 3's director Fincher nor Resurrection's Jean-Pierre Jeunet are interviewed, and Jeunet isn't even mentioned). An extra fifth disc, free with the set, contains "The Alien Legacy", an hour-long documentary on the making of the first film, concentrating on the script, design, effects, production and direction. —Kim Newman

From its first gliding aerial shot of a generic suburban street, American Beauty moves with a mesmerising confidence and acuity epitomised by Kevin Spacey's calm narration. Spacey is Lester Burnham, a harried Everyman whose midlife awakening is the spine of the story, and his very first lines hook us with their teasing fatalism—like Sunset Boulevard's Joe Gillis, Burnham tells us his story from beyond the grave. It's an audacious start for a film that justifies that audacity. Weaving social satire, domestic tragedy and whodunit into a single package, Alan Ball's first theatrical script dares to blur generic lines and keep us off balance, winking seamlessly from dark, scabrous comedy to deeply moving drama. The Burnham family joins the cinematic short-list of great dysfunctional American families, as Lester is pitted against his manic, materialistic realtor wife, Carolyn (Annette Bening, making the most of a mostly unsympathetic role) and his sullen, contemptuous teenaged daughter, Jane (Thora Birch, utterly convincing in her edgy balance of self-absorption and wistful longing). Into their lives come two catalytic outsiders. A young cheerleader (Mena Suvari) jolts Lester into a sexual epiphany that blooms into a second adolescence. And an eerily calm young neighbour (Wes Bentley) transforms both Lester and Jane with his canny influence. Credit another big-screen newcomer, English theatrical director Sam Mendes, with expertly juggling these potentially disjunctive elements into a superb ensemble piece that achieves a stylised pace without lapsing into transparent self-indulgence. Mendes has shrewdly insured his success with a solid crew of stage veterans, yet he has also made an inspired discovery in Bentley, whose Ricky Fitts becomes a fulcrum for both plot and theme. Cinematographer Conrad Hall's sumptuous visual design further elevates the film, infusing the beige interiors of the Burnhams' lives with vivid bursts of deep crimson, the colour of roses—and of blood. —Sam Sutherland

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

Taking the Spin-off genre to the extreme, Angel attempts to replicate the success of Buffy by taking the heartthrob as the lead. Spin-off shows rarely match the success of their parent programmes, especially in the superhero/fantasy genre (cf. The Girl From UNCLE, The Bionic Woman, The Green Hornet—Frasier being the notable exception). Characters who were perfectly useful as supporting figures dwindle when forced in the spotlight, and Angel takes a special risk by building an entire series around a character who is: (a) supposed to be a mystery man; (b) a vampire who once spent half a season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer as a dastardly villain who killed without remorse; and (c) played by David Boreanaz, who is well up on handsome and broody but still can't do an Irish accent to save his life and is visibly learning this acting lark as the series progresses.

The premise is that Angel, the vampire with a soul, has finally admitted he'll never get it together with Buffy (Sarah Michelle Gellar), unless a reunion crossover episode or two are scheduled. He moves to Los Angeles, a city haunted not only by demons and vampires but lawyers and agents. Angel sets up as a private investigator and solves cases with a supernatural aspect, partnered with Doyle (Glenn Quinn), a half-demon with a proper Irish accent and the useful psychic ability to know when someone is in trouble (thereby predicting any given week's plot), and Cordelia (Charisma Carpenter), another Buffy refugee here trying to reinvent herself as a struggling big-city single girl.

Far less consistent than its parent show, but also not saddled with quite so much of a continuing story arc, Angel has a very different feel, cued by its effective semi-Goth violin theme tune and lots of film noir-ish LA street scenes, with a dose of cynical inside-the-entertainment-industry stuff. It has its share of familiar ideas (such as a Fight Club episode) and simply daft premises (a demon-centred show which allegorises the debate about female circumcision , for example). Angel alienated a lot of initial fans by killing off its most appealing regular a third of the way into the run, dusting off hideous English comic stereotype Wesley the Watcher (Alex Denisof) as a replacement. However, it also comes up with some ingenious moments: in a two-parter guest-starring sometime Buffy villainess Faith (Eliza Dushku), the show finally delivers something scary and emotionally powerful as Angel proves he can solve cases his ex-girlfriend can't. Meanwhile, the last couple of episodes—which beef up a satanic law firm as regular foes and resurrect a long-dead character as a major troublemaker for the future—go from promising to delivering. —Kim Newman

On the DVD: the DVD set is only moderately generous with features, compared to the Buffy the Vampire Slayer series DVDs. There are two episodes with commentaries—creators Joss Whedon and David Greenwalt discussing the series' genesis and "City Of ". Added to this Jane Espenson, the resident queen of farce, talks us through the haunted apartment episode "Rm w/a Vu". Also included are four featurettes—introductions to the characters of Angel and Cordelia, a series one overview and a discussion of the show's demons—scripts for the two Faith episodes, cast biographies and a gallery of stills and blue-prints. Most importantly, given the way Angel was butchered by Channel 4 for an inappropriately early time slot, the show's violence and strong language are offered uncut. Presented in English and French Dolby Surround Sound 2.0 and with an aspect ratio of approx 1.33:1 —Roz Kaveney

It is with this second series that Angel, the darker Los Angeles mean-streets spin-off from Buffy, comes entirely into its own. Angel, the vampire with a soul and rather too much hair gel, is driven partly by his need for atonement and partly by his anger at the manipulations of the satanic law firm Wolfram and Hart, especially the morally equivocal Lindsey (Christian Kane). At the end of the previous season, they set his emotional destruction in motion by bringing back from hell Darla, the vampire who turned him, whom he loved for centuries and then killed to save Buffy. Julie Benz's soft-voiced passion——"God doesn't want you, but I still do"—makes her a perfect tragic foil for David Boreanaz's "billowy coat King of Pain" hero and mid-season offers further cause for Angel's despairing rage at his failure to save Darla from being turned vampire again.

There is a nice balance of comedy, horror and the starkly tragic here—fake swamis, accursed shrouds, sexually abused telekinetic assassins all come into the mix along with Angel's gang of sidekicks—pedantic Wesley, abrasive Gunn, flighty clairvoyant Cordelia—and a new and wonderfully improbable character who starts as a running joke and becomes so much more—the Host (Andy Hallett), a green demon with red horns, eyes and hair, who sees into the souls of those who sing karaoke at his bar. And in a four-part finale, the group's friendship with the green karaoke demon Lorne sends them off to his home dimension to rescue Cordelia, right wrongs and acquire an important new character.

On the DVD: Angel, Season 2 on disc presents all the episodes in their original 16x9 widescreen format (2.35:1), which enables viewers to see shots as they were originally conceived, for example in impressive moments like the march of the four vampires through a burning Shanghai or the climaxes of the mediaeval Pylea sequence. The sound is a sumptuous Dolby Surround 2.0. The first Pylea episode, "Over the Rainbow", has a commentary by its director Fred Keller; the 1959 flashback episode "Are You Now or Have You Ever Been?" has a commentary by writer Tim Minnear. There are also featurettes on the set designs—specifically concentrating on the huge hotel set which dominates Season 2. —Roz Kaveney

In the third series of Angel the titular vampire with a soul was forced to stand alone thanks to the (temporary) death of his beloved Buffy and her show's move to a new network, with no crossover between the two allowed. He returns from seeking peace in a demon-haunted monastery to find the LA Angel Investigations team fighting supernatural crime in his absence. Fred is still haunted by the nightmare dimension from which they rescued her; Cordelia's visions get ever more painful and debilitating. The schemes of the evil law firm Wolfram and Hart become every more imaginative and dragon lady Lilah Morgan becomes even more of an enemy when lusting after Angel. Unbelievably, Darla, Angel's vampire sire and lover, turns up, pregnant with his child and is tortured by inexplicable motherly feelings as well as a raging thirst for human blood.

For a few episodes things go pretty well—but Angel's enemies, both those he has made in his quest for redemption and those he made when he was unadulterated evil, are still out there. Stephanie Romanov comes into her silky own in this series, making Lilah Morgan all the more seductively evil because she is clear about the choices she has made; the satanic law-firm of Wolfram and Hart are this show's most inspired creation. As the series moves to its close, Wesley (Alexis Denisof) has hard choices to make. The devastating climax is compulsive viewing and this series also contains one of the most impressive single episodes of the entire show: in "Waiting in the Wings" writer, director and creator Joss Whedon comes up with a classic ghost story as Angel and his crew go to the ballet and find a performance that is literally timeless.

On the DVD: Angel, Series 3 DVD box set is generously stocked with extra features—a season overview, commentaries on three episodes, a documentary on the way scripts are transferred to screen, and an overview of the story of the doomed vampire Darla. Of especial interest to fans are two deleted scenes—one from the ballet episode "Waiting in the Wings", in which Amy Acker (Fred) and Alexis Denisof (Wesley) dance a pas de deux at once touching and hilarious, and the other a hilarious scene from "Cordy", the cute situation comedy in which Cordelia stars in an alternate universe. —Roz Kaveney

As the fourth series of Angel starts, everything is still as we left it: Angel has been sunk to the bottom of the sea in an iron box by his inexplicable and vindictive son Connor and Cordelia has been summoned to higher realms to await orders. Gunn and Fred are left in the Hyperion Hotel, unsure about what has happened to their friends, and Lilah is working hard to seduce Wesley to the dark side. In the first few episodes, some of this is resolved but it's almost immediately replaced by far worse crises: prophesies of doom accumulate more rapidly even than usual in this wonderfully gloomy show and a horned rock-like Beast rains fire on Los Angeles. This last year is Angel's most tightly dramatic season yet—with a story arc of surprising intensity punctuated by the show's usual wit and sexiness.

On the DVD: Angel, Series 4 is presented on disc in Dolby 2.0 Surround Sound with a visual aspect ratio of 16:9. It comes with insightful, and often hilarious, commentaries on seven of the 22 episodes as well as featurettes—a series overview, profiles of the characters of Jasmine and the Beast, a farewell to the Hyperion Hotel (the characters' base for three seasons) and a discussion of the apocalypse that Angel has to deal with from episode seven onwards). It has subtitles in English, French, Dutch, Danish, Finnish, Norwegian and Swedish and has the option of the soundtrack dubbed into French. —Roz Kaveney

This 1998 testosterone-saturated blow-'em-up from producer Jerry Bruckheimer and director Michael Bay (The Rock, Bad Boys) continued Hollywood's millennium-fuelled fascination with the destruction of our planet. There's no arguing that the successful duo understand what mainstream audiences want in their blockbuster movies—loads of loud, eye-popping special effects, rapid-fire pacing, and patriotic flag waving. Bay's protagonists—the eight crude, lewd, oversexed (but, of course, lovable) oil drillers summoned to save the world from a Texas-sized meteor hurling toward the earth—are not flawless heroes, but common men with whom all can relate. In this huge Western-in-space soap opera, they're American cowboys turned astronauts. Sci-fi buffs will appreciate Bay's fetishising of technology, even though it's apparent he doesn't understand it as anything more than flashing lights and shiny gadgets. Smartly, the duo also try to lure the art-house crowd, raiding the local indie acting stable to populate the film with guys like Steve Buscemi, Billy Bob Thornton, Owen Wilson, and Michael Duncan, all adding needed touches of humour and charisma.

When Bay applies his sledgehammer aesthetics to the action portions of the film, it's mindless fun; it's only when Armageddon tackles humanity that it becomes truly offensive. Not since Mississippi Burning have racial and cultural stereotypes been substituted for characters so blatantly—African Americans, Japanese, Chinese, Scottish, Samoans, Muslims, French ... if it's not white and American, Bay simplifies it. Or, make that white male America; the film features only three notable female characters—four if you count the meteor, who's constantly referred to as a "bitch that needs drillin'". Sadly, she's a hell of a lot more developed and unpredictable than all the other women characters combined. Sure, Bay's film creates some tension and contains some visceral moments, but if he can't create any redeemable characters outside of those in space, what's the point of saving the planet? —Dave McCoy

This Audrey Hepburn Collection box set contains the following films: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Sabrina, Funny Face, Paris When It Sizzles and Roman Holiday.

In the gap between seasons four and five of Babylon 5, fans suffering withdrawal symptoms were sated by this first TV movie. As a prequel to the series' timeline, creator J. Michael Straczynski had an awful lot of continuity to consider. Amazingly, there's only one inconsistency throughout (a matter of who met whom and when), making this an essential part of the overall storyline. The tale is told cleverly from the future as the remembrances of Londo (Peter Jurasik), who is now Emperor of a dying Centauri homeworld. He looks back at the beginnings of the Earth-Minbari war and links together many clues strewn throughout the shows' early years. We see exactly how Delenn contributed to the first blows, the death of dignitary Dukhat, and most importantly what really happened to Sinclair (Michael O'Hare) at the Battle of the Line. The FX showcased by the battle are genuinely spectacular, but overshadowed by the make-up department which had the thankless task of making everyone look younger. Their best success is on an uncredited Claudia Christian who appears as an 18-year-old Susan Ivanova dealing with the death of her brother. Being a prequel there's little in the way of a surprise finale, but there's plenty of intrigue along the way. —Paul Tonks

We were promised that it would all end "in fire". Maybe at the end of its five-year run Babylon 5 fulfilled that promise for some viewers, but the announcement that a spin-off series, Crusade would serve to complete story threads moved the goalposts for most. It was a brave idea to attempt bridging the segue into Crusade via this fourth TV movie, but after the ending given by the episode "Sleeping in Light", the timing seems a little last-minute. Bruce Boxleitner gives one last greyed-up and chiselled performance as Sheridan—now President of the new Alliance. Overseeing an unveiled fleet of prototype Victory Destroyer ships, he receives visions offering warning about a lingering danger despite the end of the Shadow War. Though advised and manipulated by Technomage Galen (Peter Woodward), Sheridan is still unable to prevent the unleashing of the Drakh's last Planet Killer weapon. Infused in Earth's atmosphere, this plague will take five years to go "live" and then kill every last human. So begins the premise for the new show. It's a little too incomplete to satisfy as an individual movie. Watching it in conjunction with "War Zone" (the Crusade pilot episode) will give a better understanding of what's motivating everyone. —Paul Tonks

Captain John Sheridan (Bruce Boxlietner) arrives on Babylon 5 in the first episode of the second series, "Points of Departure", which marks the handing over of command of B5 to Sheridan from Commander Jeffery Sinclair (actor Michael O'Hare had become a victim of studio politicians who wanted a bigger star in the leading role). This excellent instalment also reveals more about why the Minbari surrendered to Earth at the Battle of the Line when they were on the verge of victory. "Revelations" explains that Sheridan's wife, Anna, died during an archaeological survey of the world Z'ha'dum, the name being just one of many oblique references to Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings. "The Geometry of Shadows" introduces the Technomages, characters who featured more significantly in the ill-fated spin-off series Crusade (1999), while "The Coming of Shadows" proved to be Babylon 5's finest hour. The story of political intrigue foreshadowing the fate of two of the major characters won the Hugo award for the Best Dramatic Presentation at the 1996 World Science Fiction Convention and proved so powerful that J Michael Straczynski included it in his Complete Book of Scriptwriting.

"And Now for a Word" takes the unusual step of presenting a day-in-the-life of B5 seen through the eyes of a TV news crew, just as the Narn declare war on the Centauri. The inclusion of a PSI-Corps commercial paid homage to Paul Verhoeven's satirical ads in Robocop (1987). In "In the Shadow of Z'ha'dum", Sheridan learns that Morden was on the ship on which Anna died, this episode seeing the Captain pushed to his limits by grief and determination to discover why Morden survived. Three exceptional shows conclude the year. The Narn-Centauri war escalates in "The Long, Twilight Struggle", Sheridan faces a most unusual ordeal in "Comes the Inquisitor", while in "The Fall of Night" all hope of peace is shattered as a nerve-wracking assassination attempt reveals a startling secret about Ambassador Kosh.

On the DVD: Babylon 5—Series 2 presents all 22 episodes anamorphically enhanced at 16:9, with Dolby Digital 5.1 sound. Originally shot with eventual widescreen presentation in mind, the programmes looks far better than they did when broadcast. The effects shots, reformatted from full-screen CGI, show occasional pixilation, but the new compositions are more dynamic than the old 4:3. Always a show with powerful audio, the remixed soundtrack is rich and involving, if lacking in the bass punch and complex layering of much more expensive cinema productions. Extras are an introduction to Series 2 (eight mins) and Building Babylon: Blueprint of an Episode (13 mins), is a perfunctory promotional piece. More interesting is Shadows and Dreams, an eight-minute feature on B5's two Hugo Awards. Three episodes have commentaries, with J Michael Straczynski examining the politics, mythology and production of In the Shadow of Z'Ha'Dum and The Fall of Night, and stars Bruce Boxleitner, Claudia Christian and Jerry Doyle have a decidedly low-brow laugh-fest through The Geometry of Shadows. There is an alternative French soundtrack and subtitles for the hard-of-hearing. —Gary S Dalkin

"Matters of Honour" launches the third series of Babylon 5 with the introduction of the White Star, a spacecraft added to enable more of the action to take place away from the static space station. Also introduced is Marcus Cole (Jason Carter) who, in another nod to The Lord of the Rings, is a Ranger not so far removed from JRR Tolkien's Strider. In "Voices of Authority" the show finds an epic scale as Ivanova seeks the mysterious "First Ones" for allies against the Shadows, and evidence is discovered pointing to the truth behind President Santiago's assassination. A third of the way through the series "Messages from Earth", "Point of No Return" and "Severed Dreams" prove pivotal, changing the nature of the story in a way previously unimaginable on network TV. Earth slides into dictatorship, the fascistic Nightwatch takes control of off-world security and Sheridan takes decisive action by declaring Babylon 5 independent.

"Interludes and Examinations" presents the death of a major supporting character, while the two-part "War Without End" reaches apocalyptic dimensions in a complex tale resolving the destiny of Sinclair and the fate of Babylon 4 (dovetailing elegantly with the events of Year One's "Babylon Squared"), resolving a 1,000-year-old paradox and presenting a vision of a very dark future for Sheridan and Delenn. All this is trumped by the monumental "Z'ha'dum". In the preceding "Shadow Dancing", Anna Sheridan (Melissa Gilbert, Bruce Boxleitner's real-life wife) returns from the dead, no longer entirely human. In the mythologically resonant climax Anna invites Sheridan back to the Shadow homeworld with no hope of survival. Just as Gandalf fell into the abyss at Khazad-Dum, so Sheridan takes a comparable leap into the unknown on an alien world.

On the DVD: Babylon 5, Series 3 presents all 22 episodes anamorphically enhanced at 16:9 for widescreen TVs. While not up to blockbuster movie standards these are the finest looking B5 discs yet. Likewise the remixed Dolby Digital 5.1 sound packs a considerable punch in the many action scenes while remaining clear and atmospheric throughout. Reasonable though unremarkable extras are in line with previous box sets, with detailed and informative commentaries by series creator J Michael Straczynski on episodes "Z'Ha'Dum", and the Hugo Award-winning "Severed Dreams". Actors Bruce Boxleitner, Jerry Doyle, Richard Biggs and Ed Wasser offer a more jokey and backslapping appraisal of "Interludes and Examinations".

Introduction to Point of Return is essentially a six-minute trailer for the season, while Behind the Mask: Creating the Aliens of B5 offers make-up artist John Vulich, JMS, and producer John Copland reflecting on the creation of various races. Complementing this is a seven-minute look at Building a Better Narn. Designing Tomorrow: The Look of Babylon 5 focuses on the work of production designer John Iacovelli. Finally The Universe of Babylon 5 presents five short character profiles. The set offers an alternative French soundtrack and subtitles in English, English for the hard-of-hearing, French and Dutch. —Gary S Dalkin

The fourth series of Babylon 5 begins on a high point with Centauri Prime in the grip of the insane Emperor Cartagia (Wortham Krimmer) and a run of six shows leading to the climax of the war against the Shadows in "Into the Fire". If this colossal narrative is resolved a little too easily and the ultimate aim of the Shadows turns out to be a tad disappointing, it's still one of the most powerful slices of space opera ever to grace the small screen.

In the aftermath the sheer scale drops back a little but the pace never slows as the rest of the year plays out in one relentless cycle of conspiracy, betrayal and conflict, Babylon 5 siding with the rebel Mars colony against the totalitarian Earth regime. Meanwhile, Delenn finds herself increasingly in conflict with her own people and, paralleling her relationship with Sheridan, Garibaldi becomes involved with his ex-fiancée Lise Hampton (Denise Gentile); in addition, an intense platonic love grows between Ivanova and Marcus Cole. On an unstoppable wave fuelled by roller-coaster plot twists and spectacular action shows from "No Surrender, No Retreat"—when Sheridan avows to overthrow EarthGov—to "Rising Star"—when the aim is realised—this series of Babylon 5 achieved a consistent excellence rare in television.

Yet within that run "Intersections in Real Time" stands out as a bold experiment; essentially a two-hand drama taking place entirely within one dimly lit room. Then in "The Deconstruction of Falling Stars", a descendant of humanity one million years hence reviews excerpts from the history of Babylon 5. In one sequence set in 2762 a Brother is devoted to the preservation of history some time after the "Big Burn". In a homage to Walter M Miller's SF classic A Canticle for Leibowitz, Sheridan and Delenn have themselves become the stuff of legend. —Gary S Dalkin

On the DVD:
All 22 episodes of Season 4 of Babylon 5 are presented on six DVDs. Anamorphically enhanced for widescreen TV, the picture is significantly stronger than on the original TV broadcasts, if not up to blockbuster movie standards. The remixed Dolby Digital 5.1 soundtrack is punchy and richly impressive, if again not quite state-of-the-art. As with previous seasons the main extras are three commentaries. The first, by actors Bruce Boxleitner, Jerry Doyle, Peter Jurasik and Patricia Tallman, finds these leading cast members having a great time joshing around on Falling Towards Apotheosis and failing to say anything very interesting. Series creator and writer J Michael Straczynski and director Michael Vejar discuss The Face of the Enemy, the conversation tending towards a technical scene-by-scene analysis, while by far the most interesting commentary is J Michael Straczynski alone on The Deconstruction of Falling Stars. JMS covers many aspects of the show, going into depth explaining both his ideas behind the series and the practicalities of realising his vision. Celestial Sounds is an interesting but too-short five-minute look at the scoring process with composer Christopher Franke, complemented by a powerful six-minute musical suite. The package also includes a six-minute introduction, a three-minute gag reel and video data files of characters, organisations and places. An Easter egg offers a comparison between untextured and completed CGI models of Babylon 5 itself. There is an optional French soundtrack, plus English, English for Hearing Impaired, French and Netherlands subtitles. —Gary S Dalkin

"The Gathering", the feature-length pilot episode for Babylon 5, still ranks amongst the best of introductions to any TV science fiction show. In 1993 there was just nothing else to compare with its wall-to-wall CGI effects backed up by eye-popping architectural and interior production design, costumes, alien make-up and hairstyles. A couple of flat performances let down an otherwise intriguingly cast ensemble, but these problems would vanish in the series. Here, character introduction and development was refreshingly left to fend for itself within an elaborate narrative structure that kicked-off several plot threads at once. Creator Michael Straczynski ambitiously starts proceedings with a multi-layered mystery concerned with the nature and destiny of the soul. Political shenanigans, trigger-happy action stereotypes and wavering physics linger in the viewer's memory, but the tantalising tale told by smooth Commander Sinclair (Michael O'Hare) about the "hole in his mind" makes the strongest impression. Considering how convoluted the show's mysteries would become, "The Gathering" remains an essential starting point.

On the DVD: Babylon 5: The Gathering is presented here in its 1998 Special Edition version. However, nowhere on the packaging is this stated. In fact, the back-cover credits are incorrect: apart from anything else, this version features a new score by Christopher Franke and not Stewart Copeland's original. Special effects and sound quality are also superior to the original version, even if still only presented in 1.33:1 ratio and two-channel Dolby.—Paul Tonks

Despite voluminous protest and nitpicking criticism from loyal fans of the original TV series (1978-80), the 2003 version of Battlestar Galactica turned out surprisingly well for viewers with a tolerance for change. Originally broadcast on the Sci-Fi Channel in December 2003 and conceived by Star Trek: The Next Generation alumnus Ronald D Moore as the pilot episode for a "reimagined" TV series, this four-hour mini series reprises the basic premise of the original show while giving a major overhaul to several characters and plot elements. Gone are the flowing robes, disco-era hairstyles, and mock-Egyptian fighter helmets, and thankfully there's not a fluffy "Daggit" in sight... at least, not yet. Also missing are the "chrome toaster" Cylons, replaced by new, more formidable varieties of the invading Cylon enemy, including "Number Six" in hot red skirts and ample cleavage, who tricks the human genius Baltar! into a scenario that nearly annihilates the human inhabitants of 12 colonial worlds.

Thus begins the epic battle and eventual retreat of a "ragtag fleet" of humans, searching for the mythical planet Earth under the military command of Adama (Edward James Olmos) and the political leadership of Laura Roslin (Mary McDonnell), a former secretary of education, 43rd in line of succession and rising to the occasion of her unexpected Presidency. As directed by Michael Rymer (Queen of the Damned), Moore's ambitious teleplay also includes newfangled CGI space battles (featuring "handheld" camera moves and subdued sound effects for "enhanced realism"), a dysfunctional Col. Tigh (Michael Hogan) who's provoked into action by the insubordinate Starbuck (Katee Sackhoff), and a father-son reunion steeped in familial tragedy. To fans of the original BG series, many of these changes are blasphemous, but for the most part they work—including an ominous cliffhanger ending. The remade Galactica is brimming with smart, well-drawn characters ripe with dramati! c potential, and it readily qualifies as serious-minded science fiction, even as it gives BG loyalists ample fuel for lively debate. —Jeff Shannon

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey is ample proof that not all sequels suck. Sometimes they're even better than the original. It is the future. Society has at last solved all its major problems, thanks to amiable lunkheads Bill and Ted and the inspiring music of their band, Wyld Stallyns. Only one man is dissatisfied with the way things have turned out, the evil De Nomolos (Joss Ackland). In an effort to change the future, De Nomolos sends evil Bill and Ted robots back in time to prevent the real Bill and Ted from winning a pivotal Battle of the Bands. What follows is a spirited journey through the afterlife as Bill and Ted try to rescue their girlfriends, save the future, and, oh, yeah, learn how to play the guitar.

Bill & Ted's Bogus Journey swings easily between childish and clever humour, and is good at both: a Bergman reference is quickly followed by an equally funny bit about Death's stinky feet. Keanu Reeves and Alex Winter seem happy to be reprising their roles and even manage to add funny spins on Evil Robot Bill and Ted. William Sadler very nearly steals the movie as Death, playing both his wounded dignity and budding desire to be funky to a T. As if that weren't enough, George Carlin returns as Rufus and Pam Grier does a cameo just for the hell of it. —Ali Davis, Amazon.com

Time travel in the movies is at an all time high in Bill & Ted's Excellent Adventure. Bill S Preston Esquire (Alex Winter) and Ted Theodore Logan (Keanu Reeves) are in danger of flunking History class. They're rescued by Rufus (George Carlin), a resident of San Dimas 700 years in the future—a future in which their band Wyld Stallyns has brought about world peace and the best water slides in the universe. Entrusted with a phone booth time machine, they pick up various historical personages to give a colourful stage show for their final exam. The hip 80s rock sensibility paved the way for many comedies that followed Wayne's World, with air guitar and phrases like "bogus" and "dude" entrenching themselves way beyond the film's cult following. The film spawned a number of spin-offs including a bodacious cartoon and comic book series.

On the DVD: a trailer and a gallery of 20 behind-the-scenes photos will disappoint fans, even though it's interesting to see director Stephen Herek at work before he moved onto more serious films such as Mr Holland's Opus. However, the film has never looked better than in this transfer, and the effects still look terrific (especially the channels of Time). A Dolby sound mix also does wonders for Beethoven's keyboard improvs. —Paul Tonks

To call this cut of Blade Runner `long awaited' would be a heavy, heavy understatement. It's taken 25 years since the first release of one of the science-fiction genre's flagship films to get this far, and understandably, Blade Runner: The Final Cut has proved to be one of the most eagerly awaited DVD releases of all time.

And it's been well worth the wait. Director Ridley Scott's decision to head back to the edit suite and cut together one last version of his flat-out classic film has been heavily rewarded, with a genuinely definitive version of an iconic, visually stunning and downright intelligent piece of cinema. Make no mistake: this is by distance the best version of Blade Runner. And it's never looked better, either.

The core of Blade Runner, of course, remains the same, with Harrison Ford's Deckard (the Blade Runner of the title) on the trail of four `replicants', cloned humans that are now illegal. And he does so across an amazing cityscape that's proven to be well ahead of its time, with astounding visuals that defied the supposed limits of special effects back in 1982.

Backed up with a staggering extra features package that varies depending on which version of this Blade Runner release you opt for (two-, four- and five-disc versions are available), the highlight nonetheless remains the stunning film itself. Remastered and restored, it remains a testament to a number of creative people whose thinking was simply a country mile in advance of that of their contemporaries. An unmissable purchase. —Jon Foster

The Blues Brothers: John Belushi and Dan Aykroyd—as "legendary" Chicago brothers Jake and Elwood Blues—brought their "Saturday Night Live" act to the big screen in this action-packed hit from 1980. As Jake and Elwood struggle to reunite their old band and save the Chicago orphanage where they were raised, they wreak enough good-natured havoc to attract the entire Cook County police force. The result is a big-budget stunt-fest on a scale rarely attempted before or since, including extended car chases that result in the wanton destruction of shopping malls and more police cars than you can count. Along the way there's plenty of music to punctuate the action, including performances by Ray Charles, Aretha Franklin, Cab Calloway and James Brown that are guaranteed to knock you out. Keep an eye out for Steven Spielberg as the city clerk who stamps some crucial paperwork near the end of the film.

The Blues Brothers 2000: It's hard to ignore the sad and conspicuous absence of the late John Belushi, but this long-delayed sequel still has Dan Aykroyd to keep the music alive. Once again, Elwood's trying to reunite the original Blues Brothers Band, and this time he's got a strip-joint bartender (John Goodman) and a 10-year-old orphan named Buster (J Evan Bonifant) joining him at centre stage. It's a shameless clone of the first film, and nobody—especially not Aykroyd or director John Landis—seems to care that the story's not nearly as fun as the music. Of course there's a seemingly endless parade of stunts, including a non-stop pileup of police cars that's hilariously absurd, but what really matters here—indeed, the movie's only saving grace—is the great line-up of legendary blues musicians. Aretha Franklin, James Brown, Junior Wells, Eric Clapton, BB King, Jonny Lang, Eddie Floyd and Blues Traveler are among the many special guests assembled for the film, and their stellar presence makes you wonder if the revived Blues Brothers shouldn't remain an obscure opening act. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

An Oscar-winning documentary based around a 1999 massacre at an American High School in Colorado, Bowling for Columbine is filmmaker Michael Moore's take on the culture of firearms violence that is, apparently, peculiar to the USA. Significantly, this is no detective investigation into the psychology and motives of the two students who randomly opened fire on their classmates, killing 12 of them—Moore regards such particulars as practically irrelevant—rather, it's an attempt to counter the moral panic and right-wing diagnoses that followed the massacre, with the likes of rock star Marilyn Manson blamed by some.

Using a mixture of roving interviews, statistics, historical documentary footage, cartoon animation and the set-ups familiar to fans of his TV Nation series, Moore teases out appalling truths about gun proliferation in America. He's able to obtain a rifle by opening a bank account and shows that the bullets used in the Columbine massacre were still available at KMart—until he confronts their management with victims of the shootings. But it's not just gun proliferation that's the problem. Canada, Moore discovers, is similarly rife with firearms yet has a far lower murder rate. The problem with the US, Moore believes, is an irrational climate of fear that has driven the country to reactionary extremes since the days of the pioneers, persuading citizens that they need to be armed to the teeth.

In a film short on lowlights, the highlight is Moore's confrontation with NRA President Charlton Heston. Moore's deceptively genial, shambling, regular American dude appearance (as well as his NRA membership) wins Heston's confidence and Moore teases from the actor an inadvertently racist slip of the tongue, before turning up the heat, at which point Heston terminates the interview. In this moment, the sort of anger Moore demonstrated at the 2003 Academy Awards ceremony surfaces briefly as he brandishes a picture of a gunshot victim to the retreating Heston. Funny, shrewd, righteous, hard to deny, Bowling for Columbine is uncomfortable and irresistible filmmaking. —David Stubbs

If Franz Kafka had been an animator and film director—oh, and a member of Monty Python's Flying Circus—this is the sort of outrageously dystopian satire one could easily imagine him making. However, Brazil was made by Terry Gilliam, who is all of the above except, of course, Franz Kafka. Be that as it may, Gilliam sure captures the paranoid-subversive spirit of Kafka's The Trial (along with his own Python animation) in this bureaucratic nightmare-comedy about a meek governmental clerk named Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) whose life is destroyed by a simple bug. Not a software bug, a real bug (no doubt related to Kafka's famous Metamorphosis insect) that gets smooshed in a printer and causes a typographical error unjustly identifying an innocent citizen, one Mr. Buttle, as suspected terrorist Harry Tuttle (Robert De Niro). When Sam becomes enmeshed in unravelling this bureaucratic glitch, he himself winds up labelled as a miscreant.

The movie presents such an unrelentingly imaginative and savage vision of 20th-century bureaucracy that it almost became a victim of small-minded studio management itself—until Gilliam surreptitiously screened his cut for the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, who named it the best movie of 1985 and virtually embarrassed Universal into releasing it. —Jim Emerson

John Hughes's popular 1985 teen drama finds a diverse group of high school students—a jock (Emilio Estevez), a metalhead (Judd Nelson), a weirdo (Ally Sheedy), a princess (Molly Ringwald), and a nerd (Anthony Michael Hall)—sharing a Saturday in detention at their high school for one minor infraction or another. Over the course of a day, they talk through the social barriers that ordinarily keep them apart, and new alliances are born, though not without a lot of pain first. Hughes (Ferris Bueller's Day Off), who wrote and directed, is heavy on dialogue but he also thoughtfully refreshes the look of the film every few minutes with different settings and original viewpoints on action. The movie deals with such fundamentals as the human tendency toward bias and hurting the weak, and because the characters are caught somewhere between childhood and adulthood, it's easy to get emotionally involved in hope for their redemption. Preteen and teenage kids love this film, incidentally. —Tom Keogh, Amazon.com

Holly Hunter plays a network news producer who, much to her chagrin, finds herself falling for pretty-boy anchorman William Hurt. He is all glamour without substance and represents a hated shift from hard news toward packaged "infotainment", which Hunter despises. Completing the triangle is Albert Brooks, who provides contrast as the gifted reporter with almost no presence on camera. He carries a torch for Hunter; she sees merely a friend. Written and directed by James L. Brooks, Broadcast News shows remarkable insight into the people who make television. On the surface the film is about that love triangle. If you look a little deeper, however, you will see that this behind-the-scenes comedy is a very revealing look at obsessive behaviour and the heightened emotions that accompany adrenaline addiction. It is for good reason this was nominated for seven Academy Awards (though it did not win any). There are scenes in this movie you cannot shake, such as Hunter's scheduled mini-breakdowns, or Brooks' furious "flop sweat" during his tryout as a national anchor. Watch for an uncredited Jack Nicholson as a senior newscaster. —Rochelle O'Gorman

Don Coscarelli directs and Bruce Campbell stars as the King of Camp in this intentionally over-the-top schlockfest. Bubba Ho-Tep is partially about Elvis Presley and partially about the title character, an Egyptian cowboy zombie, but mostly it is about camp. The movie is equal parts story and back story. We learn through narration and flashback how Elvis didn't really die, ending up instead in a rest home in East Texas with JFK (played by Ossie Davis), who was dyed black and had his brain removed, presumably for reasons of national security. Campbell and Davis realize that something strange is going on when their rest-home compatriots start dropping off suspiciously. The whole movie leads up to a final showdown to the death with the Egyptian cowboy zombie who has been sucking the souls of their fellow residents because he thought no one would notice. The movie unfolds a bit slowly; it is, after all, a geriatrics-fight-Egyptian-cowboy-zombie movie. However, one wishes this self-conscious movie's pacing took its cue from the atypically fast-moving zombie instead of from the senior-citizen Elvis and JFK. In the end, though, Campbell is flawless as the aged King; his accent, intonations, glasses, and trademark karate are at the same time sincere and over the top. —Brian Saltzman

Vampire-slayer Buffy Summers moves to Sunnydale, a Californian community located above the "Hellmouth", a phenomenon which explains the local graveyard's overpopulation of vampires and other supernatural beings. Angel, a mysterious loiterer, starts flirting with Buffy and gives her helpful tips on how to cope with the local nasties. However, he turns out to be a vampire, which complicates the future of their relationship. Buffy makes friends with school outcasts Willow, a computer nerd, and geeky Xander. But she excites the enmity of high-school princess Cordelia. The season's prime villain is the Master, a Nosferatu-looking vampire lurking under the town. Giles, Buffy's mentor, looks things up in books and demonstrates the exact same look of puzzlement actor Anthony Head used to demonstrate in those horrifying instant coffee ads. —Kim Newman

After the first season of Buffy The Vampire Slayer became a ratings success the show was renewed with a bigger budget and twice as many episodes. Seeds are sown through the early episodes for many of the stunning plot developments later in the season: there's a slow burn for the relationships building between Buffy and Angel (no surprise), Giles and Jenny (nice surprise), and Xander and Cordelia (huge surprise). Most importantly, we're introduced to important semi-regulars Spike and Drusilla ("School Hard"), Oz ("Inca Mummy Girl") and fellow Slayer Kendra ("What's My Line Part 1"). Their appearances tackle youth issues such as sibling rivalry, sexual maturity and rejection.

But nothing that came before it prepared audiences for the latter half of season 2. In the extraordinary double act of "Surprise" and "Innocence" every aspect of the show grows up in a big hurry: the result of Buffy sleeping with Angel is a series of tragedies everyone is powerless to predict or prevent, a piece of powerful storytelling conveyed with pared-down dialogue and remarkable performances from the young cast. All of these threads are tied together then torn apart by the two-part finale "Becoming". With a cliffhanger ending to rival The Empire Strikes Back, the second chapter of Buffy The Vampire Slayer closes in tantalising style leaving everything at stake. —Paul Tonks

On the DVD: The computer-animated menu opens this gorgeous box set in style with a tour through a dark and oppressive cemetery, a lavish display of graphics that's all the more impressive when compared to the uneventful DVD for the first season. Most of the extra features are concentrated on the last disc, which includes the obligatory biographies, trailers and TV spots that add little value to hardcore fans but serve as a good introduction to the world of Buffy for non-adepts. The three featurettes are captivating: "Designing Buffy" offers a wealth of information about the set designs, and even includes a walk through of Buffy's home; "A Buffy Bestiary" features every monster from the second season, and "Beauty and the Beats" explores the make-up artistry and special effects. There are also brief cast interviews, in which James Masters ("Spike") reveals his American accent. All in all the extras make a worthy accompaniment to the spectacular season 2 episodes, though one might regret that Joss Whedon did not offer a commentary on the double bill season finale "Becoming". —Celine Martig

Action-packed Season Three develops major characters and plot lines brewing over the last couple of years. The Mayor, this season's major baddie, wants to become an invincible demon by slaughtering everyone at Sunnydale High's graduation ceremony but he's going to torture them all by giving his speech first. Bad-girl vampire-slayer Faith wants to get one over on Buffy and becomes even more rotten. Angel comes back from hell but isn't sure what to do about his girlfriend. Willow meets her evil gay vampire duplicate from another dimension. Xander loses his virginity but still has to contemplate his essential uselessness. Cordelia gets less whiny and has to work in a dress-shop when her father becomes bankrupt. Giles wears tweed and drinks tea, though it is revealed that he used to be a warlock and in a punk band. Besides the soap opera, there are monsters, curses and vampires (inevitably). —Kim Newman

On the DVD: The DVDs are presented in a standard television 4:3 picture ratio and in a clear Dolby sound that does full justice both to the sparkling dialogue and to the always impressive indie-rock and orchestral scores. Special features include an overview of Season Three by its creator Joss Whedon, and by writers Marti Noxon, David Fury, Doug Petrie and Jane Espenson and documentaries on the weapons, clothes special effects of the show and the speech/verbal tone which makes it what it is-"Buffyspeak". The episodes "Helpless", "Bad Girls", "Consequences" and "Earshot" have commentaries by, Fury, Petrie, director James Gershman and Espenson, in which we find out some fascinating details about the way the scripts mutate and about the particular illuminations added to scripts by actors' performances. After complaints about the Season 2 DVD packaging, the disc envelopes include a protective coating. —Roz Kaveney

In its fourth season, Buffy the Vampire Slayer had to change its formula radically. Two major characters—the vampire-with-a-soul Angel and Cordelia, the queen bitch of Sunnydale High—had gone off to be in their own show, Angel, and soon after the start of the season Willow's werewolf boyfriend Oz left when Seth Green needed to concentrate on his film career. Buffy and Willow started college, where they met new characters like Riley, the All-American Boy with a double life, and Tara, the sweet stuttering witch; but Xander and Giles found themselves at something of a loose end. Several characters were subjected to the radical re-envisioning possible in a show that deals with the supernatural: the blond vampire Spike came back and soon found himself with an inhibitor chip in his head, forced into reluctant alliance with Buffy; the former vengeance demon Anya became passionately smitten with Xander.

Not all fans were happy with the central story arc about the sinister Dr Walsh (Lindsay Crouse) and her Frankensteinian creation Adam, though Crouse's performance was memorable. The strength of Season Four was perhaps most in impressive stand-alone episodes like the silent "Hush", the multiple dream sequence "Restless" and the passionate, moving "New Moon Rising", in which Oz returns, apparently cured, only to find that Willow is no longer waiting for him. This was one of the high points of the show as a vehicle for intense acting, perhaps only equalled by "Who Are You?", in which the evil slayer Faith takes over Buffy's body and Sarah Michelle Gellar gets to play bad girl for once. —Roz Kaveney

On the DVD: Buffy Season 4 was a hit and so is this sublime box set. The commentaries for "The Initiative", "This Year'sGirl", "Superstar" and "Primaveral" are all well above average, but are nothing compared to "Hush" and "Restless" where Joss Whedon gives out all the information and insights any fan would dream of. The four featurettes included are a pleasure to watch, especially the evolution of the sets for the show. The scripts, trailers and cast biographies complete the set and make for a decent addition to your Buffy archive. The soundtrack is in 2.0 Dolby surround, but the image is as grainy and dark as the previous seasons on DVD. —Celine Martig

The fifth season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer is about illusions and the truth that they often reveal; suddenly Buffy has a younger sister, has always had a younger sister. Michelle Trachtenberg as the moody, gawky Dawn achieves the considerable triumph of walking into an established stock company of well-known characters—Xander, Willow, Giles and so on—with the perfect assurance of a long-term member of the cast. Of course, nothing is as it seems; even Glory, the mad brain-sucking beauty in a red dress who is the villain of the year, turns out to be even more than she seems. Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy manages to convey heartbreak, self-involvement and real heroism as her relationship with her emotionally dense soldier boyfriend Riley hits the shoals and the blonde vampire Spike starts to show an altogether inappropriate interest.

This season is also about the hard truth that there are some enemies it is impossible to fight. Even being around Buffy and Dawn is dangerous for their friends, as Glory and her minions proceed by a process of elimination. The eventual confrontation, when it comes, is genuinely shocking. Meanwhile, the vampire Spike's obsessed desire for Buffy takes them both to some very strange places and Willow and Tara have their love tested in the most gruelling of ways. And in the quietly upsetting episode "The Body", the cast produce their most impressive performances yet as they have to deal with another enemy they cannot fight. —Roz Kaveney

The seventh and final series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer begins with a mystery: someone is murdering teenage girls all over the world and something is trying hard to drive Spike mad. Buffy is considerably more cheerful in these episodes than we have seen her during the previous year as she trains Dawn and gets a job as student counsellor at the newly rebuilt Sunnydale High. Willow is recovering from the magical addiction which almost led her to destroy the world, but all is not yet well with her, or with Anya, who has returned to being a Vengeance demon in "Same Time, Same Place" and "Selfless", and both women are haunted by their decisions.

Haunting of a different kind comes in the excellent "Conversations with Dead People" (one of the show's most terrifying episodes ever) where a mysterious song is making Spike kill again in spite of his soul and his chip. Giles turns up in "Bring on the Night" and Buffy has to fight one of the deadliest vampires of her career in "Showtime". In "Potential" Dawn faces a fundamental reassessment of her purpose in life.

Buffy was always a show about female empowerment, but it was also a show about how quite ordinary people can decide to make a difference alongside people who are special. And it was also a show about people making up for past errors and crimes. So, for example, we have the excellent episodes "Storyteller", in which the former geek/super villain Andrew sorts out his redemption while making a video diary about life with Buffy; and "Lies My Parents Told Me", in which we find out why a particular folk song sends Spike crazy. Redemption abounds as Faith returns to Sunnydale and the friends she once betrayed, and Willow finds herself turning into the man she flayed. Above all, this was always Buffy's show: Sarah Michelle Gellar does extraordinary work here both as Buffy and as her ultimate shadow, the First Evil, who takes her face to mock her. This is a fine ending to one of television's most remarkable shows. —Roz Kaveney

The sixth series of Buffy the Vampire Slayer followed the logic of plot and character development into some gloomy places. The year begins with Buffy being raised from the dead by the friends who miss her, but who fail to understand that a sacrifice taken back is a sacrifice negated. Dragged out of what she believes to have been heavenly bliss, she finds herself "going through the motions" and entering into a relationship with the evil, besotted vampire Spike just to force her emotions.

Willow becomes ever more caught up in the temptations of magic; Xander and Anya move towards marriage without ever discussing their reservations; Giles feels he is standing in the way of Buffy's adult independence; Dawn feels neglected. What none of them need is a menace that is, at this point, simply annoying—three high school contemporaries who have turned their hand to magical and high-tech villainy. Added to this is a hungry ghost, an invisibility ray, an amnesia spell and a song-and-dance demon (who acts as rationale for the incomparable musical episode "Once More With Feeling").

This is a year in which chickens come home to roost: everything from the villainy of the three geeks to Xander's doubts about marriage come to a head, often—as in the case of the impressive wedding episode—through wildly dark humour. The estrangement of the characters from each other—a well-observed portrait of what happens to college pals in their early 20s—comes to a shocking head with the death of a major character and that death's apocalyptic consequences. The series ends on a consoling note which it has, by that point and in spite of imperfections, entirely earned. —Roz Kaveney

Cabaret is one of those film musicals whose cultural and stylistic influence extend well beyond the cinema. It confirmed Bob Fosse's status as one of the boldest choreographers of the 20th century and gave Liza Minnelli an early peak in a film career which would never scale such heights again. Minnelli is both the film's strength—on its own merits her performance is an Oscar-winning tour de force—and weakness. The real Sally Bowles was a third-rate performer and just one of a rich gallery of characters; here, the constant allowances for Minnelli's star turns and mannerisms ultimately throw the story off balance. But the source material is impeccable: Kander and Ebb's stage show, based on the autobiographical stories of Christopher Isherwood, has long since been acknowledged a classic. The songs, augmented by some new numbers in the film, are ageless.

Joel Grey from the original Broadway production is the Emcee, the master of ceremonies who, with his Kit Kat Klub girls, provides a depraved Greek chorus satirising the rise of the Nazi regime and the lazy complacency of the 1930s Berlin cabaret-goers. The "divine decadence" tag is only part of the story, though. Cabaret still works a sinister, uncomfortable magic which sets it apart as a uniquely powerful film musical.

On the DVD: Cabaret's 30th Anniversary Special Edition is packed with extras which include a scratchy "making of" documentary from 1972 and a retrospective from 1997, the latter featuring reminiscences from the cast. There's also the original theatrical trailer, though in the absence of the late director Fosse the lack of some kind of commentary is a disappointment. The picture itself, presented in widescreen 16:9 letterbox format with a Dolby Digital 2.0 stereo soundtrack, gleams as sharply, visually and aurally, as it did on its first release. —Piers Ford

There's an extra coat of hot wax on Pixar's vibrant, NASCAR-influenced comedy about a world populated entirely by cars. Lightning McQueen (voiced by Owen Wilson) is the slick rookie taking the Piston Cup series by storm when the last race of the season (the film's high-octane opening) ends in a three-way tie. On the way to the tie-breaker race in California, Lightning loses his way off Route 66 in the Southwest desert and is taught to stop and smell the roses by the forgotten citizens of Radiator Springs. It's odd to have such a slim story from the whizzes of Pixar, and the film pales a bit from their other films (though can that be a fair comparison?).

Nonetheless, Cars is another gleaming ride with Pixar founder John Lasseter, who's directing for the first time since Toy Story 2. There's the usual spectrum of excellent characters teamed with appropriate voice talent, loads of smooth humor for kids and parents alike, knockout visuals, and a colorful array of sidekicks, including a scene-stealing baby blue forklift named Guido. Lightning's plight is changed with the help of former big-city lawyer Sally Carrera (Pixar veteran Bonnie Hunt), the town's patriarch Doc Hudson (Paul Newman), and kooky tow truck Mater (Larry the Cable Guy). The Incredibles was the first Pixar film to break the 100-minute barrier, but had enough story not to suffer; Cars, at 116 minutes (including some must-see end credit footage), is not as fortunate, plus it never pierces the heart. Trivia fans should have bonanza with the frame-by-frame DVD function; the movie is stuffed with in-jokes, some appearing only for an instant. Ages 5 and up. —Doug Thomas

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

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

Schizoid serial killer Carl Stargher (Vincent D'Onofrio) has been captured at last, but a neurological seizure has rendered him comatose, and FBI agent Peter Novak (Vince Vaughan) has no way to determine the location of Stargher's latest and still-living victim. To probe the secrets contained in Stargher's traumatised psyche, the FBI recruits psychologist Catherine Deane (Jennifer Lopez), who has mastered a new technology that allows her to enter the mind of another person. What she finds in Stargher's head is a theatre of the grotesque, which, as envisioned by first-time director Tarsem Singh, is a smorgasbord of the surreal that borrows liberally from the Brothers Quay, Czech animator Jan Svankmajer, Hieronymous Bosch, Salvador Dali and a surplus of other cannibalised sources.

This provides one of the wildest, weirdest visual feasts ever committed to film, and The Cell earns a place among such movie mind-trips as 2001: A Space Odyssey, Altered States, What Dreams May Come and Un Chien Andalou. Is this a good thing? Sure, if all you want is freakazoid eye-candy. If you're looking for emotional depth, substantial plot and artistic coherence, The Cell is sure to disappoint. The pop-psychology pablum of Mark Protosevich's screenplay would be laughable if it weren't given such sombre significance, and Singh's exploitative use of sadomasochistic imagery is repugnant (this movie makes Seven look tame), so you are better off marvelling at the nightmare visions that are realised with astonishing potency. The Cell is too shallow to stay in your head for long, but while it's there, it's one hell of a show.

On the DVD Sounding more like a stand-up comedian than a serious filmmaker in his feature-length commentary, director Tarsem Singh (a veteran of glossy TV commercials and music videos) clearly reveals that dazzling visuals took priority over plot and character in The Cell. This emphasis is echoed throughout the DVD's bonus features, especially in a featurette "tribute" to Singh by primary members of his creative team. While the deleted scenes are interesting, they add nothing to the finished film, so it's easy to see why they were deleted. Detailed examination of the film's special effects offers a first-rate primer on the state of the art of digital imagery. To lend an air of scientific credibility to the film's basic premise, a brain map and "empathy test" are included, inviting viewers to take a multiple-choice quiz to determine their level of empathy and compassion toward other human beings. (The lower your score, presumably, the more you have in common with serial killers.) —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

Writer-director Kevin Smith (Clerks) makes a huge leap in sophistication with this strong story about a comic-book artist (Ben Affleck) who falls in love with a lesbian (Joey Lauren Adams) and actually gets his wish that she love him, too. Their relationship is attacked, however, by his business partner (Jason Lee), who pulls a very unsubtle Iago act to cast doubt over the whole affair. The film has the same sense of insiderness as Clerks—this time, Smith takes us within the arcane, funny world of comic-book cultism—but the themes of jealousy, deceit and the high price of growing up enough to truly care for someone make this a very satisfying movie. —Tom Keogh

Adapted from the long-running stage version, this big-screen Chicago is a non-stop singing and dancing extravaganza that may well herald the welcome revival of the film musical. When the part-time lover of wannabe star Roxie (Renee Zellweger) is murdered, she is banged up with Chicago's most famous singing murderess, Velma (Catherine Zeta-Jones). They compete for the attention of the best lawyer in town, Billy Flynn (Richard Gere). Drawn to the special angle of Roxie's case (the sweetest killer to hit Chicago), Flynn offers her a taste of stardom and her daydreams of singing on stage are juxtaposed with the action.

Chicago has transferred well to film, seamlessly merging Dennis Potter-esque dream sequences with the action. Though the stage show uses sets sparingly, here the look has been heavily influenced by the only successful musical of recent times, Moulin Rouge, with heavy velvets and drapery offering a rich feel to the murky underworld of 1920s Chicago clubs. The hot question is: can the movie stars cut it as performers? Surprisingly, it is Zellweger who looks most comfortable in the part, regardless of her awkward dancing. Zeta-Jones is just that little bit too butch to be believable as a flapper girl, despite her stage school roots, and lacks a certain panache. But one thing is in her favour: she's believable as the ultimate starlet bitch. Gere does not fare much better, with his tap-dancing sequence littered with cutaways (mercifully his dancing and singing is kept to a minimum). The real show-stealer is Queen Latifah, whose matron of the cells is perfect and her singing spot-on. More than anything else, though, this film will whet your appetite to see the original on the West End stage. —Nikki Disney

On the DVD: Chicago on DVD demonstrates that the producers of Rob Marshall's Oscar-winning film obviously took to heart the lyrics "Give 'em the old Razzle Dazzle", as the widescreen 1.85:1 anamorphic transfer is rich with the lush colours, vibrant tones and sparkling audio that wowed audiences in the cinema. If only the extras had been given the same treatment. There's nothing like the plethora of special features that greeted fans of Moulin Rouge here; there is a grand total of three: a passable director's commentary, a deleted song, "Class", which is so dull you don't question why it didn't make the final cut, and a making-of feature, which is entertaining but nothing new. All in all, there's a very disappointing and unimaginative selection. —Kristen Bowditch

Presenting a bleak, harrowing, and yet ultimately hopeful vision of humankind's not-too-distant future, Children of Men is a riveting cautionary tale of potential things to come. Set in the crisis-ravaged future of 2027, and based on the atypical novel by British mystery writer P.D. James, the anxiety-inducing, action-packed story is set in a dystopian England where humanity has become infertile (the last baby was born in 2009), immigration is a crime, refugees (or "fugees") are caged like animals, and the world has been torn apart by nuclear fallout, rampant terrorism, and political rebellion. In this seemingly hopeless landscape of hardscrabble survival, a jaded bureaucrat named Theo (Clive Owen) is drawn into a desperate struggle to deliver Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), the world's only pregnant woman, to a secret group called the Human Project that hopes to discover a cure for global infertility.

As they carefully navigate between the battling forces of military police and a pro-immigration insurgency, Theo, Kee, and their secretive allies endure a death-defying ordeal of urban warfare, and director Alfonso Cuaron (with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki) capture the action with you-are-there intensity. There's just enough humour to balance the film's darker content (much of it coming from Michael Caine, as Theo's aging hippie cohort), and although Children of Men glosses over many of the specifics about its sociopolitical worst-case scenario (which includes Julianne Moore in a brief but pivotal role), it's still an immensely satisfying, pulse-pounding vision of a future that represents a frightening extrapolation of early 21st-century history. —Jeff Shannon

*Spoiler alert*

Presenting a bleak, harrowing, and yet ultimately hopeful vision of humankind's not-too-distant future, Children of Men is a riveting cautionary tale of potential things to come. Set in the crisis-ravaged future of 2027, and based on the atypical 1993 novel by British mystery writer P.D. James, the anxiety-inducing, action-packed story is set in a dystopian England where humanity has become infertile (the last baby was born in 2009), immigration is a crime, refugees (or "fugees") are caged like animals, and the world has been torn apart by nuclear fallout, rampant terrorism, and political rebellion. In this seemingly hopeless landscape of hardscrabble survival, a jaded bureaucrat named Theo (Clive Owen) is drawn into a desperate struggle to deliver Kee (Clare-Hope Ashitey), the world's only pregnant woman, to a secret group called the Human Project that hopes to discover a cure for global infertility. As they carefully navigate between the battling forces of military police and a pro-immigration insurgency, Theo, Kee, and their secretive allies endure a death-defying ordeal of urban warfare, and director Alfonso Cuaron (with cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki) capture the action with you-are-there intensity. There's just enough humour to balance the film's darker content (much of it coming from Michael Caine, as Theo's aging hippie cohort), and although Children of Men glosses over many of the specifics about its sociopolitical worst-case scenario (which includes Julianne Moore in a brief but pivotal role), it's still a pulse-pounding vision of a future that represents a frightening extrapolation of early 21st-century history. —Jeff Shannon

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

Con Air is proof that the slick, absurdly overblown action formula of Hollywood mega-producers Don Simpson and Jerry Bruckheimer (Top Gun, Days of Thunder, The Rock, Crimson Tide) lives on, even after Simpson's druggy death. (Read Charles Fleming's exposé, High Concept: Don Simpson and the Hollywood Culture of Excess, for more about that). Nicolas Cage, sporting a disconcerting mane of hair, is a wrongly convicted prisoner on a transport plane with a bunch of infamously psychopathic criminals, including head creep Cyrus the Virus (John Malkovich), black militant Diamond Dog (Ving Rhames), and serial killer Garland Greene (Steve Buscemi, making the most of his pallid, rodent-like qualities). Naturally, the convicts take over the plane; meanwhile, on the ground, a US marshal (John Cusack)and a DEA agent (Colm Meaney), try to figure out what to do. As is the postmodern way, the movie displays a self-consciously ironic awareness that its story and characters are really just excuses for a high-tech cinematic thrill ride. Best idea: the filmmakers persuaded the owners of the legendary Sands Hotel in Las Vegas to let them help out with the structure's demolition by crashing their plane into it.—Jim Emerson

The opening and closing moments of Robert (Forrest Gump) Zemeckis's Contact astonish viewers with the sort of breathtaking conceptual imagery one hardly ever sees in movies these day—each is an expression of the heroine's lifelong quest (both spiritual and scientific) to explore the meaning of human existence through contact with extraterrestrial life. The movie begins by soaring far out into space, then returns dizzyingly to earth until all the stars in the heavens condense into the sparkle in one little girl's eye. It ends with that same girl as an adult (Jodie Foster)—her search having taken her to places beyond her imagination—turning her gaze inward and seeing the universe in a handful of sand. Contact traces the journey between those two visual epiphanies. Based on Carl Sagan's novel, Contact is exceptionally thoughtful and provocative for a big-budget Hollywood science fiction picture, with elements that recall everything from 2001 to The Right Stuff. Foster's solid performance (and some really incredible alien hardware) keep viewers interested, even when the story skips and meanders, or when the halo around the golden locks of rising-star-of-a-different-kind Matthew McConaughey (as the pure-Hollywood-hokum love interest)reaches Milky Way-level wattage. Ambitious, ambiguous, pretentious, unpredictable—Contact is all of these things and more. Much of it remains open to speculation and interpretation but whatever conclusions one eventually draws, Contactdeserves recognition as a rare piece of big-budget studio film making on a personal scale. —Jim Emerson

The Cook, the Thief, His Wife and Her Lover is both adored and detested for its combination of sumptuous beauty and revolting decadence. Few directors polarise audiences in the same way as Peter Greenaway, a filmmaker as influenced by Jacobean revenge tragedy and 17th-century painting as by the French New Wave. A vile, gluttonous thief (Michael Gambon) spews hate and abuse at a restaurant run by a stoic French cook (Richard Bohringer), but under the thief's nose his wife (the ever-sensuous Helen Mirren) conducts an affair with a bookish lover (Alan Howard). Clothing (by avant-garde designer Jean-Paul Gaultier) changes colour as the characters move from room to room. Nudity, torture, rotting meat, and Tim Roth at his sleaziest all contribute the atmosphere of decay and excess. Not for everyone, but for some, essential. —Bret Fetzer

Coupling is a witty, instantly addictive series that charts the tangled sex lives of a close-knit group comprising "exes and best friends": womaniser Jack, hapless nice guy Steve, "strange and disturbing" Jeff, uninhibited Susan, neurotic Sally and manipulative Jane. The obvious frame of reference is Friends (Steve and Susan are the Ross and Rachel equivalent), but this series also echoes Seinfeld in its coinage of catchphrases and plot lines (in episode one, Steve tries to dump Jane, who refuses to accept). But it's no mere British clone of US sitcoms: Coupling has its own fresh and provocative take on relationships. At one point, a furious Susan discovers that Patrick not only had a videotape of the former couple having sex, but that he also taped over her. —Donald Liebenson

Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon is so many things: an historical epic on a grand scale, an Asian martial-arts flick with both great effects and fantastic fighting (choreographed by The Matrix's guru Yuen Wo Ping), a story of magic, revenge and power played with a posse of star-crossed lovers thrown in for good measure. Set during the Qing dynasty (the late 19th century), the film follows the fortunes of righteous warriors Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien (Asian superstars Chow Yun-Fat and Michelle Yeoh, respectively) whose love for one another has lain too long unspoken. When Li Mu Bai's legendary sword Green Destiny is stolen by wilful aristocrat's daughter Jen (exquisite newcomer Zhang Ziyi), who has been trained in the way of the gangster by Li Mu Bai's arch-rival Jade Fox, the warriors must fight to recover the mystical blade. The plot takes us all across China, from dens of iniquity and sumptuous palaces to the stark plains of the Western desert. Characters chase each other up walls and across roof and treetops to breathtaking effect, and Tan Dun's haunting, Oscar-winning East-West inflected score.

Directed by Taiwanese-born Ang Lee and co-written by his longtime collaborator American James Schamus, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon joins the ranks of the team's slate of high-quality, genre-spanning literary adaptations. Although it superficially seems like a return to Ang's Asian roots, there's a clear throughline connecting this with their earlier, Western films given the thematic focus on propriety and family honour (Sense and Sensibility), repressed emotions (The Ice Storm) and divided loyalties in a time of war (Ride with the Devil). Nonetheless, a film this good needs no prior acquaintance with the director's oeuvre; it stands on its own. The only people who might be dismissive of it are jaded chop-socky fans who will probably feel bored with all the romance. Everyone else will love it. —Leslie Felperin

On the DVD: As might be expected this superb anamorphic widescreen version of the original 2.35:1 theatrical ratio presents Peter Pau's spellbinding cinematography in its full glory; the same goes for the Dolby 5.1 audio track that showcases Tan Dun's haunting score. Annoyingly, however, the default language option is the dubbed English soundtrack, which means you have to select the original Mandarin version before playing. The extra features are good but not exceptional, with an obligatory "making-of" documentary and commentary from Ang Lee and James Schamus being the best options: the director and producer/cowriter chat amiably and in some detail about their martial arts version of Sense and Sensibility. But it's the breathtaking delight of the seeing the movie in such quality that really counts, and this disc does not disappoint. —Mark Walker

This modern-day teen update of Les Liaisons Dangereuses suffered at the hands of both critics and moviegoers thanks to its sumptuous ad campaign, which hyped the film as an arch, highly sexual, faux-serious drama (not unlike the successful, Oscar-nominated Dangerous Liaisons). In fact, Cruel Intentions plays like high comedy for its first two-thirds, as its two evil heroes, rich stepsiblings Kathryn (Sarah Michelle Gellar) and Sebastian (Ryan Phillippe), blithely ruin lives and reputations with hearts as black as coal.

Kathryn wants revenge on a boyfriend who dumped her, so she befriends his new intended, the gawky Cecile (Selma Blair), and gets Sebastian to deflower the innocent virgin. The meat of the game, though, lies in Sebastian's seduction of good girl Annette (a down-to-earth Reese Witherspoon), who has written a nationally published essay entitled "Why I Choose to Wait." If he fails, Kathryn gets his precious vintage convertible; if he wins, he gets Kathryn—in the sack.

When the movie sticks to the merry ruination of Kathryn and Sebastian's pawns, it's highly enjoyable: Gellar in particular is a two-faced manipulator extraordinaire, and Phillippe, usually a black hole, manages some fun as a hipster Eurotrash stud. Most pleasantly surprising of all is Witherspoon, who puts a remarkably self-assured spin on a character usually considered vulnerable and tortured (see Michelle Pfeiffer in Dangerous Liaisons). Unfortunately, writer-director Roger Kumble undermines everything he's built up with a false ending that's true to neither the reconceived characters nor the original story—revenge is a dish best served cold, not cooked up with unnecessary plot twists. —Mark Englehart, Amazon.com

If you're a fan of brooding comic-book anti-heroes, got a nihilistic jolt from The Crow (1994) and share director Alex Proyas's highly developed preoccupation for style over substance, you might be tempted to call Dark City an instant classic of visual imagination. It's one of those films that exists in a world purely of its own making, setting its own rules and playing by them fairly, so that even its derivative elements (and there are quite a few) acquire their own specific uniqueness. Before long, however, the film becomes interesting only as a triumph of production design. And while that's certainly enough to grab your attention (Blade Runner is considered a classic, after all), it's painfully clear that Dark City has precious little heart and soul. One-dimensional characters are no match for the film's abundance of retro-futuristic style, so it's best to admire the latter on its own splendidly cinematic terms. Trivia buffs will be interested to know that the film's 50-plussets (partially inspired by German expressionism) were built at the Fox Film Studios in Sydney, Australia, home base of director Alex Proyas and producer Andrew Mason. The underground world depicted in the film required the largest indoor set ever built in Australia. —Jeff Shannon

The Dark Knight arrives with tremendous hype (best superhero movie ever? posthumous Oscar for Heath Ledger?), and incredibly, it lives up to all of it. But calling it the best superhero movie ever seems like faint praise, since part of what makes the movie great—in addition to pitch-perfect casting, outstanding writing, and a compelling vision—is that it bypasses the normal fantasy element of the superhero genre and makes it all terrifyingly real. Harvey Dent (Aaron Eckhart) is Gotham City's new district attorney, charged with cleaning up the crime rings that have paralysed the city. He enters an uneasy alliance with the young police lieutenant, Jim Gordon (Gary Oldman), and Batman (Christian Bale), the caped vigilante who seems to trust only Gordon—and whom only Gordon seems to trust. They make progress until a psychotic and deadly new player enters the game: the Joker (Heath Ledger), who offers the crime bosses a solution—kill the Batman. Further complicating matters is that Dent is now dating Rachel Dawes (Maggie Gyllenhaal, after Katie Holmes turned down the chance to reprise her role), the longtime love of Batman's alter ego, Bruce Wayne.

In his last completed role before his tragic death, Ledger is fantastic as the Joker, a volcanic, truly frightening force of evil. And he sets the tone of the movie: the world is a dark, dangerous place where there are no easy choices. Eckhart and Oldman also shine, but as good as Bale is, his character turns out rather bland in comparison (not uncommon for heroes facing more colorful villains). Director/co-writer Christopher Nolan (Memento) follows his critically acclaimed Batman Begins with an even better sequel that sets itself apart from notable superhero movies like Spider-Man 2 and Iron Man because of its sheer emotional impact and striking sense of realism—there are no suspension-of-disbelief superpowers here. At 152 minutes, it's a shade too long, and it's much too intense for kids. But for most movie fans—and not just superhero fans—The Dark Knight is a film for the ages. —David Horiuchi

Supreme silliness doesn't stop The Day After Tomorrow from being lots of fun for connoisseurs of epic-scale disaster flicks. After the blockbuster profits of Independence Day and Godzilla, you can't blame director Roland Emmerich for using global warming as a politically correct excuse for destroying most of the northern hemisphere. Like most of Emmerich's films, this one emphasises special effects over such lesser priorities as well-drawn characters and plausible plotting, and his dialogue (cowritten by Jeffrey Nachmanoff) is so laughably trite that it could be entirely eliminated without harming the movie. It's the spectacle that's important here, not the lame, recycled plot about father and son (Dennis Quaid, Jake Gyllenhaal) who endure an end-of-the-world scenario caused by the effects of global warming. So sit back, relax and enjoy the awesome visions of tornado-ravaged Los Angeles, blizzards in New Delhi, Japan pummelled by grapefruit-sized hailstones, and Manhattan flooded by swelling oceans and then frozen by the onset of a modern ice age. It's all wildly impressive, and Emmerich obviously doesn't care if the science is flimsy, so why should you? —Jeff Shannon

Audiences were captivated by the women of Wisteria Lane in the first season of Desperate Housewives, the breakout hit from ABC that almost single-handedly lifted the network from its ratings doldrums and brought back the classic TV soap, remixed now with satire, comedy, and mystery. An affectionate yet darkly tinged send-up of suburbia that skirted Twin Peaks territory as much as that of Knots Landing, Desperate Housewives opened with a bang—literally—as perfect-seeming housewife Mary Alice Young (Brenda Strong) went through her picture-perfect day before putting a handgun to her temple and pulling the trigger. Mary Alice's sudden suicide leaves her four closest friends, all housewives of a sort, with a surfeit of grief, a re-examination of their own lives, and a mystery to solve. It also proves to be a catalyst for a seamy study of what goes on inside the finely appointed homes of Wisteria Lane—the tales of which Mary Alice narrates from beyond the grave with a sardonic tone dipped in both honey and arsenic.

There's Martha Stewart-perfect Bree (Marcia Cross), who rules her household with an iron fist in a tailor-made garden glove and seems to have it all, until she finds out her husband (Steven Culp) is cheating on her—and has a serious fetish habit to boot. Sultry Gaby (Eva Longoria), the youngest of the set, is a bored trophy wife whose predilection for shopping and clothes are the perfect decoy for her affair with the hunky teenage gardener (Jesse Metcalfe). Former career woman Lynette (Felicity Huffman) is the most stereotypical housewife, raising four (or was it five?) kids and frustrated at using her cutthroat business skills for suburban politics. And daffy Susan (Teri Hatcher), the divorcee looking for love, sees her prospects brighten with the arrival of hunky plumber Mike (James Denton), who has some desperate secrets of his own. And did we mention the neighborhood hussy (Nicollette Sheridan), the snotty busybody (Christine Estabrook), and Mary Alice's increasingly agitated son (Cody Kasch)?

It was a fast and wild mix of plot and characters that gave Desperate Housewives the zing that made it a number one hit, as it never got too bogged down in any dilemma before moving on to the next. And though it was neither as hard-hitting nor salacious as it was trumpeted to be, the show nevertheless breathed fresh, funny air into comedy television, for even though it hewed to the hour-long soap format, the content was far more dark comedy than sudsy drama. There were fun bright spots to be had, but the story behind Mary Alice's death—which included drugs, murder, blackmail, secret identities, and vengeance in equal amounts—hovered over all the characters, tingeing the farce with the specter of danger. The show's other source of strength is in its peerless ensemble cast, headed by four perfect leading ladies, all Emmy-worthy. Hatcher received the (deserved) lion's share of praise (and a Golden Globe), but her co-stars—especially the underrated Longoria—matched her scene for scene. And though the mystery of Mary Alice's death was ultimately solved (no Twin Peaks teasing here), it was just the beginning of the troubles on Wisteria Lane, where no life went unexamined for too long. —Mark Englehart, Amazon.com

This clever, funny big-screen adaptation of Lauren Weisberger's best-seller takes some of the snarky bite out of the chick lit book, but smoothes out the characters' boxy edges to make a more satisfying movie. There's no doubt The Devil Wears Prada belongs to Meryl Streep, who turns in an Oscar-worthy (seriously!) strut as the monster editor-in-chief of Runway, an elite fashion magazine full of size-0, impossibly well-dressed plebes. This makes new second-assistant Andrea (Anne Hathaway), who's smart but an unacceptable size 6, stick out like a sore thumb. Streep has a ball sending her new slave on any whimsical errand, whether it's finding the seventh (unpublished) Harry Potter book or knowing what type she means when she wants "skirts." Though Andrea thumbs her nose at the shallow world of fashion (she's only doing the job to open doors to a position at The New Yorker someday), she finds herself dually disgusted yet seduced by the perks of the fast life. The film sends a basic message: Make work your priority, and you'll be rich and powerful... and lonely. Any other actress would have turned Miranda into a scenery-chewing Cruella, but Streep's underplayed, brilliant comic timing make her a fascinating, unapologetic character. Adding frills to the movie's fun are Stanley Tucci as Streep's second-in-command, Emily Blunt (My Summer of Love) as the overworked first assistant, Simon Baker as a sexy writer, and breathtaking couture designs any reader of Vogue would salivate over. — Ellen A. Kim

When released in 2000, The Dish achieved the highest opening gross in its native Australia, a testament to the country's pride in its home-grown movies. Concentrating on that legendary day in July 1969 when Neil Armstrong set foot on the Moon The Dish looks at the small but crucial role of the Parkes satellite receiver, without which the world would never have seen the historic landing. Sam Neill is the pipe-smoking "Dish Master" Cliff, whose team includes Dish mover "Mitch", distractedly love-struck electronics nerd Glenn and NASA representative Al.

The Dish could have played the plot premise as a documentary or with a dramatic edge, but chooses instead to present the story at a leisurely comedic pace which oozes charm. The excited little community offers a snapshot of a fondly remembered past full of the idealism of the 1960s. Populated by warm-hearted souls, it's easy to forgive the town band welcoming a US Ambassador with the "Hawaii 5-0" theme instead of the National Anthem. The Dish may not have the sense of danger of Apollo 13, or the dazzling FX of something like Armageddon, but it does have rounded, enjoyable characterisation and a truthful, warming atmosphere, making it easily one of the most enjoyable films inspired by the "space race". —Paul Tonks

Arguably the greatest black comedy ever made, Stanley Kubrick's cold war classic is the ultimate satire of the nuclear age. Dr. Strangelove is a perfect spoof of political and military insanity, beginning when General Jack D. Ripper (Sterling Hayden), a maniacal warrior obsessed with "the purity of precious bodily fluids," mounts his singular campaign against Communism by ordering a squadron of B-52 bombers to attack the Soviet Union. The Soviets counter the threat with a so-called "Doomsday Device," and the world hangs in the balance while the US president (Peter Sellers) engages in hilarious hot-line negotiations with his Soviet counterpart. Sellers also plays a British military attaché and the mad bomb-maker Dr. Strangelove; George C. Scott is outrageously frantic as General Buck Turgidson, whose presidential advice consists mainly of panic and statistics about "acceptable losses." With dialogue ("You can't fight here! This is the war room!") and images (Slim Pickens' character riding the bomb to oblivion) that have become a part of our cultural vocabulary, Kubrick's film regularly appears on critics' lists of the all-time best. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com —This text refers to another version of this video.

Among the very finest episodes broadcast since Doctor Who returned to our screens in 2005, this collection of "Human Nature", "The Family Of Blood" and "Blink" surely adds up to the best single DVD release of the show to date.

Let's start with the best. "Blink" is an episode where the Doctor takes a back seat. Yet while this approach resulted in one of Doctor Who's worst ever episodes in season two, here it generates one of the very finest in the history of the show. It's from the pen of Steven Moffat, the man behind the best stories since the show's return, and manages to be clever, frightening and intricate in a way that will easily reward repeated viewers. To tell any more would be to spoil it. So we won't. Just know that while the BBC is happy to wheel out the `hiding behind the sofa' cliché, this is one episode that may have you doing just that.

Nearly matching it for sheer quality is the superb double header, "Human Nature" and "The Family Of Blood". Here we find the Doctor being hunted, and thus converting his biology to that of a human. With no knowledge of his real identity, it's down to the Doctor's assistant, Martha, to unravel what's going on.

Again though, there's plenty to lift these two episodes above run of the mill. Creepy scarecrows, even creepier schoolkids, a moving wartime setting and the willingness to take their time and build up the story all pay major dividends. The end result? Just terrific.

With not a weak link to be found, these three episodes find Doctor Who in outrageously strong form. And the season three finale is coming up on the next DVD release, too... —Simon Brew

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

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

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

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

Donnie Darko is a thought-provoking, touching and distinctive offering from relative newcomer, Richard Kelly (II). It's 1988 in small-town America and Donnie, a disturbed teenager on medication and undergoing psychoanalysis for his blackouts and personality disorders, is being visited by a being in a rabbit suit whom he calls Frank. It's this anti-Harvey that saves Donnie from being crushed to death when an airplane engine falls from the sky onto his house. This is the beginning of their escalating relationship, which, as Donnie follows Frank's instructions, becomes increasingly violent and destructive. Added to this is Frank's warning of the impending apocalypse and Donnie's realisation that he can manipulate time, leading to a startling denouement where nearly everything becomes clear.

"Nearly everything", because Donnie Darko is a darkly comic, surreal journey in which themes of space, time and morality are interwoven with a classic coming-of-age story of a teenage boy's struggle to understand the world around him. The film leaves the viewer with more questions than it answers, but then that's part of its charm. Performances are superb: Jake Gyllenhaal underplays the mixed-up kid role superbly and Donnie's episodes of angst positively erupt out of the screen. There are also some starry cameos from Mary McDonnell as Donnie's long-suffering mother, Patrick Swayze as Jim Cunningham, the personal-development guru with a terrible secret, and Noah Wyle and Drew Barrymore as Donnie's progressive teachers. Undoubtedly too abstruse for some tastes, Donnie Darko's balance of outstanding performances with intelligent dialogue and a highly inventive story will reward those looking for something more highbrow than the average teenage romp. —Kristen Bowditch

The riveting subject of Downfall is nothing less than the disintegration of Adolph Hitler in mind, body, and soul. A 2005 Academy Award nominee for best foreign language film, this German historical drama stars Bruno Ganz as Hitler, whose psychic meltdown is depicted in sobering detail, suggesting a fallen, pathetic dictator on the verge on insanity, resorting to suicide (along with Eva Braun and Joseph and Magda Goebbels) as his Nazi empire burns amidst chaos in mid-1945. While staging most of the film in the claustrophobic bunker where Hitler spent his final days, director Oliver Hirschbiegel dares to show the gentler human side of der Fuehrer, as opposed to the pure embodiment of evil so familiar from many other Nazi-era dramas. This balanced portrayal does not inspire sympathy, however: We simply see the complexity of Hitler's character in the greater context of his inevitable downfall, and a more realistic (and therefore more horrifying) biographical portrait of madness on both epic and intimate scales. By ending with a chilling clip from the 2002 documentary Blind Spot: Hitler's Secretary, this unforgettable film gains another dimension of sobering authenticity. —Jeff Shannon, Amazon.com

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

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

The significance of Ed Wood, both man and movie, on the career of Tim Burton cannot be emphasised enough. Here Burton regurgitates and pays homage to the influences of his youth, just as he would continue to do with Mars Attacks! and Sleepy Hollow. Everything is just right, from the decision to shoot in black and white, the performances of Johnny Depp (as Ed) and Martin Landau (as Bela Lugosi), the re-creation of 1950s Hollywood and the evocative score by Howard (Lord of the Rings) Shore. The plot struck a poignant familiar chord with Burton, who saw the relationship between the Ed and Lugosi mirroring his own with Vincent Price. Most importantly Burton responded to the story of the struggling, misunderstood artist. For all Burton's big-budget blockbusters (Batman, Planet of the Apes), he still somehow retains the mantle of the kooky niche director. And in the mid-90s, this film actually represented the last vestiges of his independent film production. Fans can only hope he'll soon return to those roots soon.

On the DVD: Ed Wood on disc has a good group commentary in which Burton is interviewed rather than expected to hold forth on his own, making his insights alongside the screenwriters, Landau, and various production heads very worthwhile. Also worthy are the featurettes on Landau's Oscar-winning make-up, the FX and the Theremin instrument employed in the score. Best of all is an extremely exotic Music Video based on that score. This doesn't seem to be a new transfer of the film, but in black and white you're less likely to notice. —Paul Tonks

Edward Scissorhands achieves the nearly impossible feat of capturing the delicate flavour of a fable or fairy tale in a live-action movie. The story follows a young man named Edward (Johnny Depp), who was created by an inventor (Vincent Price, in one of his last roles) who died before he could give the poor creature a pair of human hands. Edward lives alone in a ruined Gothic castle that just happens to be perched above a pastel-coloured suburb inhabited by breadwinning husbands and frustrated housewives straight out of the 1950s. One day, Peg (Dianne Wiest), the local Avon lady, comes calling. Finding Edward alone, she kindly invites him to come home with her, where she hopes to help him with his pasty complexion and those nasty nicks he's given himself with his razor-sharp fingers. Soon Edward's skill with topiary sculpture and hair design make him popular in the neighbourhood—but the mood turns just as swiftly against the outsider when he starts to feel his own desires, particularly for Peg's daughter Kim (Winona Ryder). Most of director Tim Burton's movies (such as Pee Wee's Big Adventure, Beetlejuice and Batman) are visual spectacles with elements of fantasy but Edward Scissorhands is more tender and personal than the others. Edward's wild black hair is much like Burton's, suggesting that the character represents the director's own feelings of estrangement and co-option. Johnny Depp, making his first successful leap from TV to film, captures Edward's child-like vulnerability even while his physical posture evokes horror icons like the vampire in Nosferatu and the sleepwalker in The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari. Classic horror films, at their heart, feel a deep sympathy for the monsters they portray; simply and affectingly, Edward Scissorhands lays that heart bare. —Bret Fetzer

On the DVD: Tim Burton is famed for his visual style not his ability as a raconteur, so it's no surprise to find that his directorial commentary is a little sparse. When he does open up it is to confirm that Edward Scissorhands remains his most personal and deeply felt project. The second audio commentary is by composer and regular Burton collaborator Danny Elfman, whose enchanting, balletic score gets an isolated music track all to itself with his remarks in-between cues. Again, for Elfman this movie remains one of his most cherished works, and it is a real musical treat to hear the entire score uninterrupted by dialogue and sound effects but illuminated by Elfman's lucid interstitial remarks. Also on the disc are some brief interview clips, a "making of" featurette and a gallery of conceptual artwork. The anamorphic widescreen print looks simply gorgeous. —Mark Walker

Codebreaking is an inherently fascinating but not especially cinematic endeavour, which is why Enigma spices up the true story of Bletchley Park and its eclectic group of Nazi code-cracking geniuses with some fictional romance and intrigue. Dougray Scott plays gaunt mathematician Tom Jericho, haunted by the spectre of his missing girlfriend Claire (self-consciously gorgeous Saffron Burrows). Tom turns to Claire's frumpy housemate Hester Wallace (dressed-down Kate Winslet) to help him find her, but their search unexpectedly reveals the presence of a spy at Bletchley Park. Matters are further complicated by an investigating secret service agent (imperturbable Jeremy Northam) and the hostility of Jericho's superiors.

Based on the novel by Robert Harris and adapted for the screen by Tom Stoppard, Enigma is unsurprisingly a literate and accomplished piece, unfussily directed by Michael Apted who keeps the various current and flashback story threads moving neatly in parallel, helped along by a languid score from veteran John Barry and a vividly realised wartime setting ("Have you heard the latest? Utility knickers—one yank and they're off!"). The contrived plot, however, distracts from the real drama, which is to be found in the desperate struggle to decipher the Enigma machine codes and the sometimes terrible ethical dilemmas involved. A little like that other Kate Winslet film, Titanic, this is another example of the factual background being far more compelling than the fiction grafted on top.

On the DVD: Engima arrives on disc in an extras-free package, with only scene selection and subtitles. More than one excellent documentary has been made about Alan Turing and his team of Bletchley Park codebreakers, so it's doubly disappointing to have nothing here on the real-life events depicted in the movie. Picture is widescreen 1.78:1 and sound Dolby 5.1 surround.—Mark Walker

Screenwriters rarely develop a distinctive voice that can be recognized from movie to movie, but the ornate imagination of Charlie Kaufman (Being John Malkovich, Adaptation) has made him a unique and much-needed cinematic presence. In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, a guy decides to have the memories of his ex-girlfriend erased after she's had him erased from her own memory—but midway through the procedure, he changes his mind and struggles to hang on to their experiences together. In other hands, the premise of memory-erasing would become a trashy science-fiction thriller; Kaufman, along with director Michel Gondry, spins this idea into a funny, sad, structurally complex, and simply enthralling love story that juggles morality, identity, and heartbreak with confident skill. The entire cast—Jim Carrey, Kate Winslet, Kirsten Dunst, Elijah Wood, Mark Ruffalo, Tom Wilkinson, and more—give superb performances, carefully pitched so that cleverness never trumps feeling. A great movie. —Bret Fetzer

A lush retelling of the legend of King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table, Excalibur is a dark and engrossing tale. Director John Boorman (Deliverance) masterfully handles the tale of the mythical sword Excalibur, and its passing from the wizard Merlin to the future king of England. Arthur pulls the famed sword from a stone and is destined to be crowned king. As the king embarks on a passionate love affair with Guenevere, an illegitimate son, and Merlin's designs on power, threaten Arthur's reign. The film is visually stunning and unflinching in its scenes of combat and black magic. Featuring an impressive supporting cast, including early work from the likes of Liam Neeson and Gabriel Byrne, Excalibur is an adaptation of the legend both faithful and bold. —Robert Lane

Fantastic Four is a light-hearted and funny take on Marvel Comics' first family of superherodom. It begins when down-on-his-luck genius Reed Richards (Ioan Gruffudd) has to enlist the financial and intellectual help of former schoolmate and rival Victor Von Doom (Julian McMahon) in order to pursue outer-space research involving human DNA. Also on the trip are Reed's best friend, Ben Grimm (Michael Chiklis); his former lover, Sue Storm (Jessica Alba), who's now Doom's employee and love interest; and her hotshot-pilot brother, Johnny Storm (Chris Evans). Things don't go as planned, of course, and the quartet becomes blessed—or is it cursed?—with superhuman powers: flexibility, brute strength, invisibility and projecting force fields, and bursting into flame. Meanwhile, Doom himself is undergoing a transformation.

Among the many entries in the comic-book-movie frenzy, Fantastic Four is refreshing because it doesn't take itself too seriously. Characterisation isn't too deep, and the action is a bit sparse until the final reel (like most "first" superhero movies, it has to go through the "how did we get these powers and what we will do with them?" churn). But it's a good-looking cast, and original comic-book co-creator Stan Lee makes his most significant Marvel-movie cameo yet, in a speaking role as the FF's steadfast postal carrier, Willie Lumpkin. Newcomers to superhero movies might find the idea of a family with flexibility, strength, invisibility, and force fields a retread of The Incredibles, but Pixar's animated film was very much a tribute to the FF and other heroes of the last 40 years. The irony is that while Fantastic Four is an enjoyable B-grade movie, it's the tribute, The Incredibles, that turned out to be a film for the ages.—David Horiuchi, Amazon.com

Offering a real improvement on its predecessor and successfully introducing one of the world of comics' most popular characters in the process, Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer easily warrants some attention on DVD to go with its impressive box office take.

Picking up where the surprisingly tepid original left off, Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer finds the Marvel Comics Universe's first family dealing with the celebrity that their powers have brought them, to the point where even a simple wedding can't take place without interruption.

The film then takes a little while to re-establish its characters and re-introduce some of the issues that underpin them. But it's not too long before the Silver Surfer arrives, and things really get into gear. For make no mistake: it's the Surfer who ignites the film and provides some of the very best moments of Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer. Backed up by some superb special effects work, he's a far more interesting draw that the returning Julian McMahon as Dr Doom.

While there are, inevitably, various problems that each of the characters in Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer must face, the film never opts to go knee-deep into them. Instead, it chooses a light, breezy tone, that's suited well to family viewing yet not without some genuine blockbuster moments.

It's no classic, but Fantastic Four: Rise Of The Silver Surfer is most certainly fun. And it's equally certain that this isn't the last we've seen of this quintet of heroes... —Jon Foster

Leave it to the wildly inventive Coen brothers (Joel directs, Ethan produces, they both write) to concoct a fiendishly clever kidnap caper that's simultaneously a comedy of errors, a Midwestern satire, a taut suspense thriller, and a violent tale of criminal misfortune. It all begins when a hapless car salesman (played to perfection by William H. Macy) ineptly orchestrates the kidnapping of his own wife. The plan goes horribly awry in the hands of bumbling bad guys Steve Buscemi and Peter Stormare (one of them being described by a local girl as "kinda funny lookin'" and "not circumcised"), and the pregnant sheriff of Brainerd, Minnesota, (played exquisitely by Frances McDormand in an Oscar-winning role) is suddenly faced with a case of multiple murders. Her investigation is laced with offbeat observations about life in the rural hinterland of Minnesota and North Dakota, and Fargo embraces its local yokels with affectionate humor. At times shocking and hilarious, Fargo is utterly unique and distinctly American, bearing the unmistakable stamp of its inspired creators. —Jeff Shannon

Field of Dreams is, in the words of its makers, a baseball film that "isn't about baseball". Rather, it's a magical film that works its spell on all but the most hard-boiled of viewers, an altogether superior slice of apple-pie sentimentality. Kevin Costner plays a young Iowa farmer who finds himself pestered by a whispering voice urging him, "If you build it, he will come". With the consent of an uncharacteristically supportive Hollywood wife (Amy Madigan) he sets about building a baseball diamond in the middle of his land. This action invites the prospect of bankruptcy—however, it also invites the spirit of "Shoeless" Joe Jackson, a baseball superstar disgraced following his role in the 1919 World Series scandal. The supernatural voices continue to urge Costner to "go the distance"—and he seeks out reclusive writer Thomas Mann (James Earl Jones) and "Doc" Graham (Burt Lancaster), impelled by purposes he is as yet unable to divine. Field of Dreams works because it touches so endearingly on themes of redemption, inner peace and the possibility of second chances—the "dreams" which elude most of us. It also cites baseball as an idyllic metaphor for all that is decent and constant about America. Costner gives immense plausibility to an utterly, deliberately implausible scenario.

On the DVD: Presented in anamorphic 1.78:1, the vivid, almost unnaturally natural Iowa colours are depicted to vivid effect (much of the diamond grass had to be painted green when it died). Generous extras include a making-of feature, an interview with WP Kinsella, author of the novel on which the book is based, and Costner. Director/writer Phil Alden Robinson also provides a director's commentary in which he describes the logistical difficulties of assembling 1500 automobiles for the memorable final scene. —David Stubbs

Ancient curses, all-powerful monsters, shape-changing assassins, scantily-clad stewardesses, laser battles, huge explosions, a perfect woman, a malcontent hero—what more can you ask of a big-budget science fiction movie? Luc Besson's high-octane film The Fifth Element incorporates presidents, rock stars and cab drivers into its peculiar plot, traversing worlds and encountering some pretty wild aliens. Bruce Willis stars as a down-and-out cabbie who must win the love of Leeloo (Milla Jovovich) to save Earth from destruction by Jean-Baptiste Emmanuel Zorg (Gary Oldman) and a dark, unearthly force that makes Darth Vader look like an Ewok. —Geoff Riley

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

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

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

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

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