Sequenced in reverse chronological order, these videos show Stipe in his element and Buck very much not in his, counting the seconds till he gets to go home. Still, thanks to Stipe, R.E.M. were always enhanced by video. The collection begins with "Bad Day", before Stipe's face de-wrinkles as we regress into the starkly exuberant "What's The Frequency, Kenneth?" and arresting "Everybody Hurts". Then Stipe regains his hair for "Losing My Religion".
This marks Tian Zhuangzhuang's return to directing after a nine-year ban by China's authorities. Zhichen visits old school friend Liyan in a bombed-out town in post-war China. Though welcomed by the household, Zhichen's relationships with the family break down when he rekindles a romance with his childhood sweetheart—now Liyan's wife. Exceptional cinematography and sensitive performances are let down by a clumsy screenplay and drawn-out pacing. Shame.
Some may have missed the Being John Malkovich director's diverse portfolio. Spearheading a new label dedicated to maverick film-makers, this contains Jonze's rock videos—including Chris Walken's dance number for Fatboy Slim's "Weapon Of Choice"—but the real buried treasure are hilarious vox pops for Oasis' "Stand By Me" that proved too bizarre for the po-faced Mancs to release, a doc on rodeo-based Texas youth culture, and more of Jonze's goofball choreographer from Fatboy Slim's "Praise You" vid.
Ten months, twelve pupils, one teacher, one documentarian and 300 hours of footage are mixed and tweaked to produce 100 minutes of gripping observational drama set in a rural French classroom. Here, the avuncular Georges Lopez instructs his students and dispenses wisdom in equal measure, while his soft baritone rolls from day to day, season to season, like the voice of God.
Filmed this summer at Madison Square Garden, this performance confirms Eddie Vedder's Seattle crew as one of the most exciting bands of their generation. Driven by Vedder's intense presence, they move easily from full-throttle punk attack to brooding ballad, and attain a communal thrall equalled only by The Boss in full flight. Ben Harper and Buzzcocks feature, but it's the electricity between the stage and audience that's truly special.
Made between 1930 and 1933, these four films (Horse Feathers, Animal Crackers, Duck Soup, Monkey Business) represent the Marx Brothers in their first flush, prior to moving to Hollywood. Although occasionally marred by musical routines and the over-familiarity of the zaniness, these outings are immortal—the missing link between the lost, tumbling traditions of vaudeville and the surrealist hipster comedy of the present day. Introducing quickfire Jewish wit and an anarchic insolence for authority into the mainstream, these seemingly slapdash movies are cinematic milestones.
The wildly erratic Fred Schepisi (Fierce Creatures, Last Orders) here hits sludgy middle-ground with the outré screwball story of goofy garage mechanic Tim Robbins, who falls in love with quantum physicist, er, Meg Ryan and, with the aid of kindly Uncle Albert Einstein (Walter Matthau), manages to snare her away from her bloodless sociologist fiancé Stephen Fry. Tired and uninspired.
At a provincial asylum, a down-at-heel doctor agrees to shelter an anonymous patient for the US government; soon his village is swarming with international spies, all trying to discover the new inmate's identity. This minor but hugely odd 1957 effort from Henri-Georges Clouzot has none of the suspense, nor the thrills, of his incredible Wages Of Fear or Les Diaboliques, but the atmosphere is strangely compelling.
Utterly predictable slapstick-laden festive fare as Clark Griswold (Chevy Chase) prepares to spend an old-fashioned non-stop domestic disaster of a Christmas with his extended family (including Randy Quaid and an extremely young Juliette Lewis). If you'd like to see Mr Chase being hit repeatedly over the head, this could be the movie for you.
From 1992, good guy Brad Pitt and bad guy Gabriel Byrne are transported to another dimension (which just happens to be a Ralph Bakshi cartoon) where they vie for the affections of an animated version of Kim Basinger. It's Roger Rabbit without the jokes: dumb, dull, dire, and a criminal waste of money.
