Written by Joel Schumacher, Car Wash traces a day in the life of the Dee-Luxe car wash in smoggy downtown LA circa 1976. Part blaxploitation comedy and part Altman-esque ensemble drama, the huge cast includes Antonio "Huggy Bear" Fargas and, in a brief cameo, Richard Pryor. Norman Whitfield's score is a trash classic, but the story's muddled and full of dated caricatures.

As producer, Ridley Scott—clearly in a good mood—leads us on a pointless trawl through the dusty dirt roads of comedy thriller territory as confused country boy Clay (a smouldering Joaquin Phoenix) gets duped into hanging loose with fast-talking rhinestone cowboy Lester Long (Vince Vaughn). Quite where we fit into this generic nonsense is something else altogether.

When Fed Debra Winger goes undercover in the rural Midwest to investigate a bunch of white supremacists, she makes the mistake of falling in love with vicious, family-loving klansman Tom Berenger. Director Costa-Gavras has made some coruscating political masterpieces, but this overwrought mess is close to idiocy. It defuses its own explosive subject matter. Worth seeing, though, for Berenger's committedly-crazed scenery-chewing.

Pussywhipped by Madonna into remaking Lina Wertmüller's 1974 film, Guy Ritchie betrays the fact that he can't direct outside the bad-lads genre, while Madge proves, for the umpteenth time, her inability to act. She's a rich socialite falling for a poor Italian on a desert island: watch Nicolas Roeg's Castaway instead.

One of the worst products of Hollywood's epic era stars a youthful Richard Burton as the bold conqueror, replete with fluffy blond wig. Decently performed by Burton and the likes of Frederic March, Harry Andrews, etc, Alexander The Great is beautifully shot (and nicely cleaned up on this DVD by MGM/UA) but suffers from pacing so leaden that it makes El Cid look like The Terminator. Amazing to think that, five years later, writer/director Robert Rossen would redeem himself by making The Hustler.

A massive worldwide hit, Nia Vardalos' no-budget romp must be something special, right? Well, nope. Inoffensive as it undoubtedly is, it appears to the un-Greek eye to latch 99 per cent of its gags onto national stereotypes. The better scenes, lampooning office hierarchies, are like a good episode of Friends. The rest is Victoria Wood at her most tired. Granny'll love it on telly at Christmas.

Tragi-comic genius' big-screen outings are period treats

Bryan Singer's faithful take on Marvel's merry mutants is probably the best superhero movie to date, due primarily to Hugh Jackman's grumpy Wolverine, Anna Paquin's fragile Rogue, a couple of class-act Shakespearean luvvies (Patrick Stewart and Ian McKellen), some great SFX and David Hayter's fine script. Roll on the sequel!

It's close to implausible that this graphic vignette about a computer geek falling foolishly for a hooker is co-written by Paul Auster and wife, and directed by Wayne Wang. It's not as insightful as it thinks it is, but it's certainly 'erotic'if you consider Molly Parker one of the planet's most alluring women. And she plays the drums.

Jack Nicholson's second film as director, an anarchic western, with Jack's filthy outlaw saved from hanging, married off to Mary Steenburgen and put to work on her land. It's a shaggy, high plains African Queen, with Nicholson the director simultaneously coarse and tender and allowing Nicholson the actor one of his more raggedly wolfish turns.