Another dusting-off for the Plastic Ono Band, playing for peace and headlining over Bo Diddley, Jerry Lee, Chuck Berry and Little Richard. Yoko climbs out of a bag to shriek along with the atmospheric desperation of "Yer Blues" and "Cold Turkey", and provides the highlight, during "John, John (Let's Hope For Peace)", by throwing Eric Clapton into such confusion he doesn't know what to play.
The rap trio who defined cool in the '90s for want-not-to-be-middle-class white boys have probably released this two-disc video compilation just in time, before they become horribly passé. Fair play to them, though, these are 18 of the best pop promos ever filmed, from Spike Jonze's cop show pastiche for "Sabotage" through to the robot-battling epic "Intergalactic" and the '60s action spoof for "Body Movin'" (featuring a great chicken-in-the-face scene). Camp as hell. Are we sure they're not gay?
In an ideal world, Blondie would have existed only on video. The golden Deborah, adored by the camera, would now live forever as a shimmering punk siren, blessed with a voice of both honey and crystalline clarity. Harry fronts Blondie at their 1983 farewell concert in Toronto uncomfortably, inelegantly, and sings without any of the vitality of the sassy little Kittens whose success has prompted this release.
Tight script and fantastic acting from Rob Brydon, but what is the actual point of this much lauded two-hour divorcee monologue? In theory it's a comedy, but with not a single laugh in the entire series there's a very real danger for non-pseuds that its supposed greatness will completely pass you by. They won't be running repeats of this at Christmas next year, that's for sure.
Comprising this summer's Hyde Park concert (a rocking preview of the Illumination album that followed) and last year's BBC Later... special of Paul unplugged circa Days Of Speed, this double-header is a timely celebration of the Modfather's continuing success. Both blinding, though the latter set of acoustic Jam and TSC chestnuts (a Noel Gallagher assisted "That's Entertainment" included) is pretty much unbeatable.
More personal than Knowing Me, Knowing You and sharper than the series just broadcast, this masterfully observed, grotesquely populated comedy is to the '90s what Fawlty Towers was to the '70s—but you know all that. Buy this, then, for the meaty extras and as a handy reminder that UK comedy can still be the best in the world.
Retired actor Alexander (Erland Josephson) is celebrating his birthday with friends and family when an imminent nuclear catastrophe is announced on TV. So Alexander offers to make a deal with God to avert the disaster. Andrei Tarkovsky's final film is as powerful as you'd expect.
Frank Capra's festive classic is one of those rare standards which not only lives up to its rep but reveals new treasures on every viewing. James Stewart is forlorn George Bailey, who thinks life just isn't worth living, 'til it's revealed to him how meaningful his meaningless existence really is. Containing more snow than a TV presenter's nostril, it'll melt even the frostiest among you.
