The Vietnam war had been over for three years by the time Hal Ashby made Coming Home in 1978. Those who'd survived the combat zones of South-East Asia had returned to find themselves shunned and quarantined, like lepers in their home towns; a living, breathing reminder of a shameful war many back home would rather forget had ever happened. Some of those who came back perhaps wished they'd died out there in the jungles—the paraplegics, the traumatised, forever dreading the nameless, shapeless things that whispered to them in the night.

Tragicomic genius and founding father of black American humour filmed at his peak

Slow-moving account of the events leading up to the execution of King Charles I (Rupert Everett) and its aftermath, focusing on the stormy friendship of rebel leaders Oliver Cromwell (Tim Roth) and General Thomas Fairfax (Dougray Scott). Despite lavish period detail, a good supporting cast and an excellent performance from Everett, the leaden and historically dubious script renders this duller than the driest of documentaries.

Paul Giamatti, a character actor who's embodied a host of losers and creeps, always merited a lead role, and was surely born to play Harvey Pekar, the grumpy but ultimately likeable (not lovable) hospital clerk who finds a means of expression through his comic books/graphic novels. Inspired by friend Robert Crumb (and this is a superior film to the 1994 documentary Crumb), our obsessive-compulsive antihero depicts and ponders the mundane and everyday through his work, and the world and his wife relate.

The original grunge-pop heroes' '88 tour footage plus essential documentaries

Classic 'revisionist' western from '71, Peter Fonda's directorial debut is bookended by two acts of fumbling, clumsy yet brutally violent gunplay, but is otherwise concerned with the delicately evolving relationships between two wandering cowboys (Fonda and Warren Oates) and Fonda's once abandoned wife (Verna Bloom). The photography from Vilmos Zsigmond (McCabe & Mrs Miller) is worth the price of the DVD in itself.

Henry Hathaway's Nevada Smith takes one of the characters from Harold Robbins' Hollywood potboiler The Carpetbaggers (filmed by Edward Dmytryk two years earlier, with Alan Ladd in the role) and wraps an entire movie round him. Steve McQueen stars as the young Smith, a half-breed cowboy hellbent on tracking down his parents' killers. Beautifully shot by Lucien Ballard, McQueen is as quietly hypnotic as ever.

Now 77, Jimmy Martin has been a bluegrass legend since he became lead singer and guitarist in Bill Monroe's band in 1949 and helped pioneer that "High Lonesome Sound" (see This Month In Americana, p98). His story is told through archive and contemporary footage, and Martin proves to be a highly engaging raconteur, although you might wish for a little more music and fewer talking heads.

Walter Hill's terrific 1978 thriller about a cop's obsessive pursuit of a seemingly uncatchable criminal clearly anticipates Michael Mann's Heat, for which it may have provided an unacknowledged template. It's a much leaner picture than Mann's portentous epic, however, but just as stylish and a lot more exciting, with a series of stunningly orchestrated car chases, a satisfyingly complicated plot and a couple of instances of eye-popping violence.

In Clint Eastwood's self-consciously stately film of Dennis Lehane's cracking thriller, Sean Penn, Tim Robbins and Kevin Bacon are former childhood friends, estranged by trauma, thrown into adult conflict by tragedy following the murder of Penn's teenage daughter. The novel is raw, seething, but Eastwood's stern, sober direction makes the film a bit of a slog, worthy but oddly unengaging, stripped of tension and the true sense of place Lehane brought to the book.