DVD, Blu-ray and TV

First sequel to The Ipcress File, with Michael Caine as blockbuster spy author Len Deighton's bespectacled kitchen-sink Bond, Harry Palmer. Made in 1966, it doesn't have that first film's grubby chic, and the convoluted double-crossing gets almost impossible to follow, but there's much to enjoy, not least Berlin in all its drab Cold War glory, and Caine's sullen, funny, unblinking cool as he travels there to unravel the story surrounding a Soviet officer wishing to defect.

Volker Schlöndorff's hallucinatory adaptation of Günter Grass' novel is a slow build. Like Apocalypse Now, with whom it shared the 1979 Palme D'Or at Cannes, it's an allegorical war movie with a trippy central conceit—three-year-old Oskar (David Bennent), disgusted by petty-bourgeois post-war Poland, refuses to mature into adulthood and instead opts for a surreal journey into the dark heart of Nazism. While his Danzig neighbourhood is consumed by Hitler frenzy, Oskar is subjected to Nazi dwarves, decapitated donkeys and suicide by raw eel overdose.

John Peel relives The Undertones' brief but brilliant career with the five founding members, friends, helpers and some great old clips. Describing the problems of success, the rift with Feargal Sharkey and the final split, the band defend their reformation with a new singer.

Impressive British witchcraft yarn set in the 17th century. After a ploughman unearths a bizarre-looking skull, the local villagers all start growing fur and claws and conducting saucy rites out in the woods with teen temptress Linda Hayden. Murder and madness abound as the victims' body parts are used to bring an ancient demon back to life. A notch above Hammer.

Tough-guy maverick Sam Fuller's banned '60s moral melodramas resurface in all their bleak and bizarre glory

As the house band at Motown throughout the '60s, the Funk Brothers were arguably the greatest hit machine the world has ever seen. Yet nobody ever knew who they were. Three decades later, director Paul Justman tracked down the survivors and brought them out of obscurity to pay belated tribute to the men who made the Motown sound. Evocative and nostalgic stuff.

Roy Boulting's 1970 sex comedy, adapted from a then long-running stage play, carries an over-inflated reputation. The set-pieces now seem clunky, as Peter Sellers, looking distinctly uncomfortable, plays a smarmy, lascivious TV star who meets his nemesis in plucky Goldie Hawn. Watching their free love will cost you. Still, the marvellous Diana Dors lifts it briefly.

Don't expect John McTiernan's blustery military thriller to deliver the same buzzing chemistry between John Travolta and Samuel L Jackson as Pulp Fiction. The two stars barely even meet as Travolta's bad-ass investigator puzzles out the mystery of Jackson's missing Ranger instructor via a series of twist-heavy flashbacks. McTiernan delivers balls-out action, but he's a total hack, mauling all the subtlety out of a potentially intriguing yarn.

Two discs of promos and live footage remind us that while TSC remain Weller's most misunderstood period, it was by far his most visually creative. Also included is the infamous Jerusalem, where Weller dons a kilt and a Nazi stormtrooper helmet and fakes a northern accent. Brilliantly ridiculous, ridiculously brilliant. (SG)

The closest that Jean-Luc Godard ever got to directing a star-studded blockbuster, Le Mépris, shot in Cinemascope and featuring Brigitte Bardot, Jack Palance and Fritz Lang, follows the making of a crass adaptation of Homer's Odyssey while ridiculing commercial cinema and giving Palance some cracking lines: "You cheated me Fritz! That's not what's in the script!"