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.

Amiable comedy westerns starring James Garner, from 1969 and 1971. In the first he brings order to a lawless gold-rush town; in the second he's a conman passing off his sidekick (Jack Elam) as a deadly gunslinger. Both are droll delights, with amazing supporting casts that include Bruce Dern and Walter Brennan

Enjoyably hammy sub-Hitchcock suspense thriller from 1982 in which Klaus Kinski's plan to kidnap the grandson of a wealthy American explorer is thrown into chaos, placing him and co-conspirators Oliver Reed and Susan George under siege by a black mamba. Kinski is suitably unpleasant, as is the wince-inducing moment when Ollie receives a fatal snake bite where no bloke wants to be bitten.

Made in 1993 and directed by Ray Müller, this three-hour documentary features extensive interviews with Hitler's favourite director (then a sprightly 90), responsible for such brilliant but pernicious propaganda as 1934's Triumph Of The Will. Wonderful, horrible stuff, especially watching her squirm at Müller's inquisitions regarding her enthusiasm for Nazism.

After pushing Emily Watson and Björk through relentless pain and suffering in previous films, Lars Von Trier mercilessly harasses glutton-for-punishment Nicole Kidman in another sprawling, love-it-or-hate-it lo-fi epic. She's a mystery woman on the run who shelters with a curious community, only for the comfort to sour. Paul Bettany, Lauren Bacall and Chloë Sevigny look puzzled

Peter Fonda's cool Captain America rides across America with the wired Billy (Dennis Hopper), encountering hippies, rednecks and Jack Nicholson as dipso lawyer George Hanson. It looks as mythically beautiful as it did back in '69. And Hanson's campfire speech about Amerika is more chillingly relevant than ever.

Roland Joffé's 1989 movie examines America's wartime race to develop the atomic bomb by focusing on the relationship between General Groves (a bullish Paul Newman) and haunted genius Robert Oppenheimer (Dwight Schultz), but dilutes the intensity by opening out to sketch in other players (including John Cusack and Laura Dern). Still, this is worthy, sombre, respectable drama.

David Fincher's homage to Hitchcock (the North By Northwest title sequence, Howard Shore's score, the Rope/Vertigo-like apartment-as-stage conceit) finds Jodie Foster as the beleaguered mum trying to stay one step ahead of Forest Whitaker, Dwight Yoakam and Jared Leto's housebreakers

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.

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.