Retail dvd (twentieth century fox home entertainment, widescreen)

Bertolucci's woefully self-indulgent tale of a teenage ménageàtrois in Paris, 1968 is hampered by the preening self-obsession of his main characters, despite the director's lush cinematography. They lounge in the bath talking about cinema and stroking each other while the city burns. By the end, you're wishing the riot police had moved in earlier.

This made Edward Burns' name as an actor-writer-director when it won Sundance back in '95 on a matchstick budget. He plays one of three Irish-American siblings trying to understand each other and the women in their lives. Straight-talking, romantic yet unsentimental, it's the kind of comedy we wish Woody Allen still made. Or, for that matter, Burns himself.

François Ozon's psychological thriller finds repressed crime writer Sarah (Charlotte Rampling) retiring to her editor's house in France to work on her new novel. Then his wayward daughter Julie (Ludivine Sagnier) arrives, shattering the calm. Sagnier does her best teenage temptress, Rampling's initial disapproval turning to fascination as Julie racks up the notches on her bedpost. Until there's a murder. Quietly clever.

From Buffy and Angel creator Joss Whedon, a four-disc set of the only series (unscreened in the UK) of his "sci-fi western". Fans will relish the smart-ass jokes as a motley crew of screwed-up mercenaries do all the flawed, human things Star Trek didn't. There's more action and pyrotechnics than ideal, but it's a slow burner.

Forget the awful sequels, spin-off TV show and Tim Burton's disappointing remake. The original 1968 movie, with Charlton Heston's astronaut stranded on a world where mute, dumb humans are enslaved by civilised apes, is a sci-fi classic, thanks to Rod Serling's subversive screenplay and that final, legendary shot.

Serious contender for De Niro's greatest ever movie

Arguably the Farrellys' best film, though already ageing badly. A bunch of set-pieces (Ben Stiller's zipper problems Cameron Diaz's innovative hair gel) linked by a ridiculous, overlong plot, it gets its big belly-laugh moments right and you tolerate the padding. Stiller's lack of vanity allows him to carry off sketches others would muff.