Reviews

Rain? Leather? Uzis? Slow-mo? Plot? Ah...Character? Um...Performance? Ahem...Sexy and inspired concept—werewolves versus vampires, with extra ammo—visibly collapses amid a slew of derivative Matrix shoot-'em-ups, excruciating line deliveries and cack-handed direction from Megadeth music video veteran Len Wiseman. Kate Beckinsale can only high-kick and cringe.

Intensely felt melodrama collides with saccharine world view in this tale of an Irish immigrant family who attempt to begin life anew in an '80s Manhattan filled with friendly junkies and hackneyed racial stereotypes (see Djimon Hounsou's savage-but-wise African artist). Top performances from Paddy Considine and Samantha Morton are undercut by director Jim Sheridan's squishy screenplay.

Andre 3000 and Big Boi's early clips are superior but fairly routine 'hood dramas, all booty calls and gaudy pimpmobiles. But around their ATLiens album, the day-glo psychedelic X Files wig-outs begin creeping in, reaching a peak in the sexofunkatronic freakerama of "Bombs Over Baghdad". Also lushly cinematic is the stormy Deep South pastoral of "Ms Jackson" and, of course, the multiple Andres of last year's super-catchy retro-futurist soul fantasia "Hey Ya". Pure pop genius.

Debut from Norah Jones' former band, with obligatory guest appearance

Fiercely cerebral Radiohead-loving jazz star kicks back

Marvellous second album of irresistible Anglophile strangeness from Albuquerque oddballs

Debut from Elvis Costello-endorsed Liverpudlian

As with most supergroups, Air Force roared in tight and punchy and staggered out again sprawling and paunchy—and not a little junk sick. When it blows its stacks, this album is very, very good. Harold McNair and Chris Wood are on blistering form on flutes and saxes, and the presence of Graham Bond brings more than a little holy magick to the table, particularly on "Early In The Morning" and "Aiko Biaye".

Stiller and Aniston star in rib-cracking romantic farce

When discussing Kevin Smith's oeuvre, most dismiss this '95 nugget as the dip between Clerks and Dogma. A mistake: as two slackers, Jason Lee and Jeremy London, hang around the mall doing nothing, plenty happens—comic-book iconography, smut, inventive swearing, Shannen Doherty pretty much playing her loveable hell-bitch self, and Ben Affleck marginalised. A buzzy, cynical, romp.