DVD, Blu-ray and TV

It was inevitable that Oliver Stone's trip to Havana to shoot 30 hours of interview with Fidel Castro would unleash a storm of controversy. Hawkish US commentators couldn't miss a chance to condemn Stone, and HBO, having bought the film, then decided not to show it. There's no doubt the director, who shares centre stage with Fidel himself, looks a little too pleased with himself for landing this coup, and as he develops a chummy camaraderie with his host, issues like Castro's human rights record and his laughable claim that Cuba is in some way democratic go without scrutiny.

Two-disc set celebrating Manchesters baggy-trousered dance-rock primates

This one proves Tim Burton's an absolute master. Billy Crudup hears his dying dad (Albert Finney) recount his implausible life story. Ewan McGregor embodies the young Finney as these tall tales are realised with wow-factor wizardry: a giant, a war, a circus—it's Fellini with a colour box. The climax skilfully plays your scepticism off against your dreams, somehow allowing both to win. Small ponds of audience tears ensue.

Jack Nicholson and Diane Keaton prompt begrudging smiles in this long, over-elaborate rom-com which tells the ageing intended audience what it wants to hear: you can still get laid at 60. It helps if you're Jack, here an incorrigible Lothario servicing Amanda Peet until he picks on someone his own age, her mum (Keaton, Oscar-nominated). Keanu Reeves and Fran McDormand make with the filler plot and chuckles.

Tense and grim war manoeuvres from director Lewis Milestone. Richard Widmark brings hints of mania to his portrayal of a Marine lieutenant leading his troops into enemy territory, scouring a battered Pacific island for prisoners who can reveal the whereabouts of a Japanese rocket base. Plagued by migraines, Widmark is a tough guy, but constantly in touch with fear he tries to mask from his men, among them the more fully neurotic Jack Palance.

It's not an exhilarating concert. Even "The Boys Are Back In Town", "Jailbreak", "Waiting For An Alibi" and "Don't Believe A Word" lack lustre, as do Phil Lynott's eyes and the dynamics of the band. The audience is polite, excepting the odd permed headbanger. Uninspiring.

The small transit town of Nouadhibou lies between the desert and the sea in the African state of Mauritania. Here, Mauritanian director Abderrahmane Sissako explores the tug between modernity and tradition, adopting an image-heavy poetic style to examine themes of migration and exile, centred around the character of Khatra, a young man caught between two cultures.

Sad, funny and cynical, Billy Wilder's 1970 movie presents a classically Holmesian mystery—a missing person case which ends with the Loch Ness Monster—as cover for an exploration of the great detective's myth, seeking to identify the crippled man behind the machine-like facade. Beautifully shot, the movie was cut by the studio and ignored by critics, but it's gorgeous. Robert Stephens is a complex Holmes, Colin Blakely a most human Watson.

Impeccable 1948 Hollywood swan song from Preston Sturges detailing the destructive effect of marital infidelity on suave millionaire Rex Harrison (brilliantly unhinged). Naturally, there's polished badinage, snappy one-liners and physical comedy aplenty. But it's also curiously dark and modern—see Harrison mutilating his wife with a cut-throat razor, and forcing her to play Russian roulette.

Ten-year-old Paul (Harry Eden) is at home in a world of pimps and pushers, bargain basement hookers and fly-blown market cafés. He has to be—since his widowed mother traded mourning for a regular numbing dose of heroin, it's been Paul who has kept the family running, even if that means fetching Mummy her 'medicine'. Gillies Mackinnon's drama is admittedly bleak, but excellent performances and restrained direction make this a rewarding, if heart-wrenching, experience.