The 'medieval dead' conclusion to Sam Raimi's legendary trilogy is more action/comedy than horror, with heroic amputee Ash (Bruce Campbell) wielding his trusty chainsaw on Sumerian demons back in the year 1300. The special effects are worthy of Ray Harryhausen, and the comedy's in a league of its own. Great fun!

Oliver Stone in mind-fuck overdrive. Seven years after it provoked the most hysterical reactions to a movie since the '70s heyday of confrontational classics like A Clockwork Orange and Straw Dogs, NBK remains as violent, hilarious, unsettling, outrageous and awesome as ever. At the peak of his cinematic powers and throwing everything into an increasingly volatile mix, Stone reworks Tarantino's original plundering spin on the familiar Hollywood tradition of lovers on a killing spree and sheerly eviscerates it.

Troublesome teens? Round them up at random, dump them on a deserted island, armed to the teeth, and force them to fight each other to death. It works brilliantly in Kinji Fukasaku's relentlessly violent and cheerfully tasteless satire, and is surely a public order initiative David Blunkett would approve of. DVD EXTRAS: Loads, including additional footage and alternative ending, Takeshi Kitano interview, filmographies and director interview. (AJ)

Third time around for Mike Myers' sweaty secret agent send-up, and the scattergun approach means two flat jokes for every live one. Still, he knocks down your resistance through sheer quantity: part Benny Hill, part Peter Sellers (although losing the fat Scotsman would do us all a favour). Beyoncé Knowles is the leg interest; cameos from Tom Cruise to, well, every current Hollywood name.

This'll be the one Denzel didn't win the Oscar for. His factory-worker Everyman holds up a hospital when the nasty insurance company won't help his dying son. Shades of Dog Day Afternoon, but an astounding cast (Robert Duvall, James Woods, Ray Liotta) can't stop director Nick (son of John) Cassavetes from descending into trite, teary sentimentality.

Influenced by Spinal Tap as much as it is by cannabis, this 1985 mockumentary was the last thing the duo wrote as a team. Supposedly following them as they record their last album, the best parts are the on-the-couch interviews in which Cheech improvises pretentious answers while Chong tries not to laugh. The songs themselves aren't too funny unless you're baked, but then that's the point.