Pristine restoration of Bruce Lee's only movie as star, director, writer and producer, released to mark the 30th anniversary of his death. He's a country boy come to the city, in this case Rome, where he must kung-fu kick the collective badass of gangsters trying to take over a Chinese restaurant. Not Lee's best, but it does have nunchakus and that great, no-frills fight with a hairy Chuck Norris in the Colosseum.

Robert Aldrich's blazing adaptation of Mickey Spillane's gut-wrenching nuclear age potboiler turns a well-worn genre on its head and retains its power to shock almost 50 years after it was made. Ralph Meeker yells his way through this movie as the quintessential Mike Hammer: loud, boorish, sexist, bullying and gleefully violent. Watch out for the back-to-front titles and apocalyptic climax. Truly the greatest private-eye movie ever made.

Ultra-obscure '70s country music doc resurfaces

It doesn't matter whether you're a fan. This study of Mitchell is a model of musical biography in DVD form. Over two hours we get her life story in perfectly matched words, music and images. The interviews with Mitchell are candid, the recollections from the likes of James Taylor, David Crosby and Graham Nash are fascinating, and the musical excerpts, which cover her entire career, are luminous.

Recorded during a series of gigs in Japan with his band The Oddballs two weeks before he died of a heroin overdose in April 1991, Who's Been Talking offers a voyeuristic insight into the twilight world of Thunders. Gaunt and deathly pale, the wonder is how he played at all, for he'd been immediately hospitalised on arrival in the country. He summons a chaotic-narcotic energy during a set of more than 20 songs. But there's a ghoulish irony to hearing him sing "Sad Vacation", his Sid Vicious tribute.

A booted and suited Cave looks disarmingly like a door-to-door evangelist in this live French show from 2001. The intensity of his earlier work has of late been tempered by a more pensive, hymn-like calm and it's the latter which is to the fore in a set that concentrates on the No More Shall We Part album. Yet it's older material such as "The Mercy Seat" and "Saint Huck" which provide most of the highlights.

Susan Sarandon and Goldie Hawn ham it up energetically in this surprisingly perceptive, punchy comedy about where groupies go when younger rock chicks muscle them out. Hawn wants to keep headbanging in leather, Sarandon's primly settled in beige, Geoffrey Rush is a celibate writer caught in Goldie's slipstream. No more syrupy than Almost Famous.

Sally Potter's supremely vivid take on Virginia Woolf's tale of a 400-year search for love and freedom. Tilda Swinton switches centuries and sex with enormous serenity, while Quentin Crisp proves an inspired Virgin Queen A visual feast with few equals.

Rattle & Hum director Phil Joanou escaped the U2 camp to direct this uneven saga of Irish mobsters on the loose in early-'90s New York. Sean Penn makes for a reasonably authentic Oirish lead and Gary Oldman blows the roof off as an unwashed homicidal loon, but this sporadically brilliant flick belongs to Ed Harris. His incandescent performance as malevolent mob boss Frankie Flannery will stick in your head weeks after the credits roll.

So it's a musical, it won many Oscars, and it's got Catherine Zeta-Jones in it. But that doesn't mean it sucks! Anything that's influenced by Bob Fosse is bound to have a dark undercurrent, and this crowd-pleasing tale of man-murdering molls and the common craving for publicity is witty and slick. Renée Zellweger, Richard Gere and that Jones woman sing and hoof.