Greenaway has more than once been known to disappear up his own aesthetics, but this collection of his short films plays to his strengths, tolerating little tedium. Disc One includes six films exploring his constant themes, from A Walk Through H (numbers, maps, the afterlife) to Windows (37 people fall through windows to their deaths). Disc Two features the obsessive Vertical Features Remake and The Falls (92 mini-biogs), and is—if you're in the mood—monumental like video art pioneer Bill Viola.

With barely a nod to the notion of storyline, this is another loud, brash series of MTV sketches, big on energy, little on brain. Somehow the idea of three scantily-clad chicks getting along okay with each other is pitched as pop-feminist empowerment. Diaz, Barrymore and Liu kick ass and chew scenery; Demi Moore is freakish; the (great) soundtrack rides roughshod over everything. Candy floss.

Who'd have thought after the debacle of Velvet Goldmine that Todd Haynes' next film would be as clever, meaningful and powerfully resonant as this masterpiece of stylised social commentary? In the 1950s, the expatriate German director Douglas Sirk directed a series of Hollywood films that at the time were sniffily known as "women's pictures", which only later were recognised as brilliantly crafted satires, as sharply observed as novels like Revolutionary Road, Richard Yates' classic dissection of the Eisenhower years.

Misconceived pairing of Adam Sandler and Jack Nicholson, but still curiously enjoyable and often funny. Sandler underplays (though not to the extent he did in Punch-Drunk Love) as a geek wrongly diagnosed with rage problems; Jack's the quack assigned to set him straight. Comic twist being: Jack's borderline deranged. While some scenes misfire, there's usually a weird (intentional or not) tension between the two, each straining to pull off this unlikely marriage. They just about do.

Feature-length spin-off from the Japanimated sci-fi TV show about a group of bounty hunters in the late 21st century. Here, they're battling renegade bio-terrorist commandos from Mars and a nanobyte virus. Innovative ideas and gizmos a-go-go, and though a tad predictable, its energy keeps you watching.

A film of two halves and dual tones, director Ang Lee extrapolates from Stan Lee's original Marvel comic book Hulk both the dark angst of scientist Bruce Banner and the fluorescent fury of the eponymous monster. So, depending on your taste, you'll either prefer the hi-tech CGI set-pieces, or the low-rent monochrome drama of Nick Nolte and Eric Bana hamming/Hamlet-ing it up as the id-unleashing father and son.

Beginning as an eye-popping cavalcade of dismemberment, cannibalism and pigs gorging on human offal, this quickly turns into an occasionally amusing attack on the critics of director Lucio Fulci's work, with Fulci himself starring as a horror director wondering whether extended exposure to fake gore has turned him psycho-killer. Demented.

John Carpenter was 24 when he shot one of the most influential films in movie history in just 20 days, on a budget of just over $300,000, for the apparently meagre salary of $10,000, a cut of the profits and his name above the title. Looking back, a quarter of a century on, it was probably the best deal he ever made. After a faltering opening run, Halloween quickly became a critically acclaimed box-office smash that went on to gross over $50 million and spawned a raft of sequels and an entire industry of mostly inferior slasher movies.

If Jim Carrey was suddenly declared God, what would he do? That's the premise, and only the easy, obvious routes are taken. But, as he did in Liar Liar, Carrey makes them funny even if you're determined he won't. Thus he enlarges Jennifer Aniston's breasts and you guffaw like a goon because the man is a comedy giant: you want him to fall on his ass, he does, you laugh again.

Dark, hugely inventive '93 animation from Tim Burton, possibly much too spooky for kids (or probably not, the sick little psychos). The Pumpkin King of Halloween tries to co-opt Christmas; the voices of Catherine O'Hara, Pee-Wee Herman and other disreputable types ooh and aah. Dazzling, macabre and faintly mad, an Oscar nominee for visual effects.