Mel Brooks' 1974 spoof western isn't a patch on The Producers or Young Frankenstein, due to a lacklustre script. What memorable moments there are come courtesy of Cleavon Little's hip black sheriff, Gene Wilder's alcoholic gunfighter, Madeline Kahn's faultless Marlene Dietrich impression and Slim Pickens busting up that infamous campfire farting scene.

In Arthur Penn's 1958 film The Left-Handed Gun, Billy The Kid (Paul Newman) was portrayed as a neurotic, self-destructive teen rebel who behaved like James Dean with a six-gun. Penn threw in the framing device of having a journalist follow Billy through his career of crime. Little Big Man (1970) also features a journalist looking to embroider the facts, but this time the writer meets his match in the shape of the wizened, 121-year-old Jack Crabb (Dustin Hoffman hidden behind several layers of make-up).

Sadly not long-lost footage from the '60s but film from a brace of reunion gigs in the mid-'90s by the rediscovered pop-art cult heroes. There's lots of playing the guitar with a violin bow (something the band's Eddie Phillips invented way before Jimmy Page). But the transformation from razor-sharp teenage mods to middle-aged beer bellies is cruel on the eye.

John Singleton's explosive debut lifted the lid on South Central LA in the early '90s, and was arguably as influential as the burgeoning wave of hip hop of the same period in bringing black urban culture to a wider audience. It's characterised by Singleton's unflinching storytelling, plus a career-best performance from Cuba Gooding Jr.

Filmed in 1943, with memories of Pearl Harbor still raw, this WWII submarine movie sees Commander Cary Grant steering his boat into Japanese waters. Directed by no-nonsense action man Delmer Daves, the sub warfare is tightly handled, but the film is just as interested in the close interaction of the itchy crew, among them the great John Garfield.

Yes, on tuesday, June 13, 1978, voodoo rockabilly avatars The Cramps (in their greatest line-up, Lux Interior and Poison Ivy backed by Nick Knox and Byron Gregory) rolled into the recreation room of California's Napa State Mental Hospital, to play for the residents. Don't ask how this was ever allowed.

Cracking ensemble comedy drama set on the mean streets of contemporary Dublin. Colin Farrell is the petty crook out to pull a career-topping scam, Colm Meaney is the cop on the case, and there's fine support from Shirley Henderson, Cillian Murphy and Kelly Macdonald. Farrell's a ball of manic fury, but it's Meaney—who appears to believe he's living in some US TV cop show from the '70s—who steals the film.

Kurosawa's bold take on King Lear, with the action relocated to 16th-century feudal Japan, still packs a punch 19 years after its original release. DVD transfer showcases the master's lush visual palette to great effect and, while the pace flags over 160 minutes, the two major pre-CGI battle sequences have to be seen to be believed. Glorious stuff.

First released in CD form in 1992, Fragments Of A Rainy Season marked a crucial, pivotal point in the life and career of our greatest living Welshman. After years of alcohol and drug addiction had turned his life into a full-blown shambles, Cale swapped whiskey and cocaine for regular games of squash and full-time commitment to parenthood in the early '90s. Far from blunting his creative edge, sobriety and responsibility appeared to free him up to take greater risks in the studio, and brought the kind of focus that enabled him to hone his live act down to something like perfection.

Stylish Hong Kong gangster flick that doesn't quite realise its potential