Comprising this summer's Hyde Park concert (a rocking preview of the Illumination album that followed) and last year's BBC Later... special of Paul unplugged circa Days Of Speed, this double-header is a timely celebration of the Modfather's continuing success. Both blinding, though the latter set of acoustic Jam and TSC chestnuts (a Noel Gallagher assisted "That's Entertainment" included) is pretty much unbeatable.

Nanni Moretti's Cannes-winner is restrained and moving, with the Italian writer/director forsaking his comic urges to examine how a teenage son's death affects a family. Moretti plays the father, a psychoanalyst who, grieving, loses interest in his patients. Awkward emotions are deftly handled: Hollywood should watch this and learn.

Tight script and fantastic acting from Rob Brydon, but what is the actual point of this much lauded two-hour divorcee monologue? In theory it's a comedy, but with not a single laugh in the entire series there's a very real danger for non-pseuds that its supposed greatness will completely pass you by. They won't be running repeats of this at Christmas next year, that's for sure.

Three Hollywood favourites starring the silver-tongued man of style

Part of Columbia's new and improved Superbit series, this immaculate version of Robert Rodriguez's chopsocky western arrives with no extras, no bonus features and a hefty price tag. Instead, with all available disc space used to provide the clearest pixel-free transfer to date, you get an average hyper-violent pop-Leone revenge movie with great depth of field and a sharp crystalline surface.

John Travolta begins his '80s career slide as Bud Davis, a hick who migrates to Houston, falls for the honky-tonk bar scene, marries city girl Sissy (Debra Winger), loses her to recidivist Wes (Scott Glenn), and enters a mechanical bull-riding rodeo. Compelling supporting performances (especially Winger) and authentic bar footage from-director James Bridges (The Paper Chase) compensate for Travolta's squeaky, misjudged central turn.

"Don't watch that—watch THIS!". The Nutty Boys' promos were always integral to their position as one of the greatest English singles bands of the 1980s. What's "Baggy Trousers" without a flying saxophonist? What's "It Must Be Love" without the sight of Suggs and chums risking electrocution in a swimming pool? They're all here, from '79's "The Prince" to '99's Ian Dury-assisted "Drip Fed Fred". Priceless.

Josh Hartnett again displays his unerring knack for atrocious career choices in this low-brow, lacklustre sex comedy from the sadly-declined Heathers director. Falling for a cutie he meets at the laundromat, horny Josh swears off copulation. On hearing this, countless honeys throw themselves at him, naturally. Comedy and sex don't gel: here's proof.

Truffaut's genre-defining masterpiece of childhood alienation

Forget CDs, this is how Damon Albarn and Jamie Hewlett's bloodless multimedia project was always meant to be experienced: as a fancy interactive DVD stuffed with videos, storyboards, short animations, a documentary and plenty of hidden gimmicks that only resourceful 11-year-olds can locate. Extensive foraging suggests, however, that Albarn's soul is still nowhere to be found.