Peter Mullan proves himself a director of real bite in this harsh, affecting study of how '60s Ireland's strict adherence to Catholic doctrines ruined the sanity of many a young woman. If deemed to be in "moral danger", girls were incarcerated, with nuns serving as jailers. Geraldine McEwan makes a chilling wicked witch, and a sparky cast ensures it's an engrossing, unpreachy story.
Philip Noyce's deceptively simple tale, describing the inspirational Disneyesque homeward journey of three headstrong aboriginal children, is accompanied by a stinging assault on the rarely explored genocidal project central to Australian nationhood, and in particular the crisis of the country's infamous "Stolen Generations". The result, simultaneously palatable and unnerving, is a contemporary cinematic anomaly—a politically provocative piece of mainstream film-making.
DVD EXTRAS: Audio commentary, Making Of... documentary, trailer.
Trapped in a sweaty throng of beered-up blokes, Paul Weller live can be an endurance test. In the comfort of your own home, he's great. Recorded last October, you get all the fun of a night out in Glasgow without plastic glasses crunching underfoot as Weller trawls through 30 songs (a third of them from 2002's Illumination). Whether you prefer The Jam ("A Town Called Malice"), The Style Council ("Our Favourite Shop") or his solo work ("The Changing Man"), you're unlikely to be disappointed.
Not quite the outright remake of The Wild Bunch it's often written up as, but still by some distance Walter Hill's most explicit homage to Sam Peckinpah. Based on a story by John Milius, 1987's Extreme Prejudice pitches upright Texas Ranger Jack Benteen (a suitably monolithic Nick Nolte) against old buddy Cash Bailey (a colourfully demented Powers Boothe), a former DEA enforcer turned major drug baron who's flooding the US with massive amounts of cocaine from his Mexican fortress, where he's surrounded by a small army of heavily-armed desperadoes.
Originally re-edited and released in two parts, King Hu's lengthy 1969 spiritual kung-fu masterpiece here appears as the director intended. The first half is slow, as an underachieving artist meets a beautiful damsel in a haunted fort. Then the fighting begins. Less concerned with special effects than the communication of "zen" through the feeling of the film, it's a truly beautiful piece.
DVD EXTRAS: Filmographies, director's notes.
There was life after prog for Utopia. After years of hi-tech bombast and electronic freakouts, the band and their music lost ballast. By 1980, they were playing new wave-inflected pop-rock and Beatles pastiches. Bassist Kasim Sulton wears a skinny power pop tie and synth whizz Roger Powell looks like a Buggle on acid. The highpoints are the extremes: Todd Rundgren crooning "Hello It's Me" and "Cliché" alone, and the group in full-tilt cosmic mode for "Initiation".
French director Chris Marker's short "film novel" from 1962, La Jetée, couples sequential still photographs with narration to tell the tale of a time-traveller from a post-apocalyptic future coming to the present day (Terry Gilliam remade it as Twelve Monkeys in 1995). Marker's feature-length philosophical 1983 travelogue Sans Soleil focuses on the subjects of Tokyo and the nature of memory.
Unfairly pilloried on its theatrical release for co-opting the dolefully serious subject of capital punishment into a twist-ending thriller, Alan Parker's depiction of the eponymous philosophy professor and death row defendant (Kevin Spacey—droll), gutsy crusading journalist Bitsey Bloom (Kate Winslet—er, enthusiastic), and their frenetic race to prove Gale's innocence is fundamentally competent—sometimes clinical—studio entertainment.
DVD EXTRAS: Commentary from Parker, deleted scenes, Making Of..., music featurette, posters, trailers.
Michael Chiklis often grabs the plaudits for his portrayal of detective Vic Mackey, controlling the dealers and gang-bangers of LA's fictional Farmington with his renegade Strike Team, but this DVD release of The Shield's first series is a jolting reminder of how creator Shawn Ryan conceived it as a complex ensemble piece steeped in moral ambiguity. Ryan exposes the politics and brutality that underpin police work, while the handheld photography makes gunfights, rape and murder hideously real. Brilliant.