Uncut recounted the tale of Fleetwood Mac's improbable reunion at length in May last year (Take 72). Now come two DVD releases commemorating the resumption of rock'n'roll's longest-running soap opera. Live In Boston is a straightforward concert film shot in September 2003 on their first tour in five years. The band clearly miss Christine McVie, the only member of the classic mid-'70s line-up not to participate, and on one level, they offer up stadium rock of the blandest kind.

RELEASED A YEAR after Sergio Leone created the genre with A Fistful Of Dollars (1965), Django, directed by Leone's onetime assistant Sergio Corbucci, was the movie that saw the spaghetti western explode; a fact borne out by the countless unauthorised sequels it spawned across Europe and beyond (as far as Jamaica, where Perry Henzell's 1973 Rude Boy classic The Harder They Come paid heavy homage). Blue-eyed Franco Nero plays the eponymous mystery gunslinger, wandering in from the filthy wilderness, dragging a coffin behind him, toward a Hellish-looking bordertown.

The old warhorse's socio-political eco-musical in miniature

Alejandro González Iñárritu's follow-up to Amores Perros is an agonisingly bleak film about death and the apparent pointlessness of things, with a dying Sean Penn getting involved with distraught widow Naomi Watts and Benicio Del Toro's sweaty born-again ex-con. Highly charged, intensely acted but eventually somewhat predictable.

France's answer to Mean Streets, Trainspotting and Do The Right Thing all rolled into one...

Recorded last December at the end of the 2003 world tour, it's spooky watching Gary Brooker singing "A Whiter Shade Of Pale" so many years after it scored 1967's summer of love. Yet his voice hasn't altered one iota. A third of the 21 tracks come from their 2003 album, The Well's On Fire. But it's old favourites like "Homburg", "Shine On Brightly" and "A Salty Dog" that command all the attention.

Cool crime thriller starring a homicide detective with dentures

Brian De Palma called the first Star Wars movie "gibberish". But George Lucas' vision, Harrison Ford's gruff charm, the Irwin Kershner-directed/Leigh Brackett-scripted The Empire Strikes Back and, of course, Darth Vader—one of cinema's great villains —ensure the trilogy's immortality. Just don't mention the prequels.

The late Tom Dowd's influence on music is legendary. As an engineer, he invented the eight-track recorder. As Atlantic Records' in-house producer, he worked with Dizzy Gillespie and Ornette Coleman before helping Aretha Franklin, Dusty Springfield, The Allman Brothers and Ray Charles. His life is traced here through interviews with Dowd himself, Charles, Franklin, Ahmet Ertegun and Eric Clapton, and through fine archive footage and recordings, Inspiring.

Ken Russell's 1967 movie was the last in the original Harry Palmer trilogy, and it's lunatic great. Retired from MI5 and living on cornflakes as a flea-bitten private eye, Michael Caine's downbeat, kitchen-sink Bond has to deliver some eggs, and deal with a militaristic right-wing Texan oil baron who's planning to destroy Soviet Russia with his computer (the titular brain). Caine is quite brilliantly morose.