Greenaway has more than once been known to disappear up his own aesthetics, but this collection of his short films plays to his strengths, tolerating little tedium. Disc One includes six films exploring his constant themes, from A Walk Through H (numbers, maps, the afterlife) to Windows (37 people fall through windows to their deaths). Disc Two features the obsessive Vertical Features Remake and The Falls (92 mini-biogs), and is—if you're in the mood—monumental like video art pioneer Bill Viola.
Back in January, Arthur Lee sold out two nights at the Royal Festival Hall. They were magical shows, Lee performing '67's classic Forever Changes in its entirety, complete with horns and strings. Some complained on the night about the sound balance, but there's no problem with the quality here. Lee's in celebratory mood, as he and his backing band LA psychedelicists Baby Lemonade storm through classics like "Bummer In The Summer" in a blur of brass and strings. Superlative stuff.
William Friedkin's thriller casts Benicio Del Toro as a Special Forces killing machine running amok and Tommy Lee Jones as the man who trained him and now has to bring him in. Hokum, basically, but the knife fights are the best since David Carradine and James Remar went at each other with some gusto in The Long Riders.
Corporate exploitation, US foreign policy, K-Mart, small-town rednecks, the NRA and Charlton Heston are all in the firing line as shaggy documentarian, and now best-selling author, Michael Moore tackles America's self-destructive gun culture. Mostly witty and irreverent, it's also sporadically profound—see the terrifying slow-mo security footage of the Columbine massacre and Chuck Heston's final broken and bewildered interview.
There are few bands, it seems, as disaster-prone as Shack. Ravaged by narcotics, crippled by debt (the sleevenotes to their third album HMS Fable infamously thanked Cash Converters) and nearly torpedoed by missing master tapes and missed opportunities, this Liverpool outfit clearly monopolise the anti-Midas touch. Matters were not helped three years ago when London Records pulled the contractual plug as well.
Nothing dates faster than camp, and here The Fifth Element (aka David LaChappelle does Blade Runner), barely six years old, is already fraying around its fluorescent edges. The plot is nonsensical (Gary Oldman's Zorg aiding giant ball of evil etc), the model work is ropey, and the production design very Munchkinland. Thankfully, Bruce Willis' taciturn hero and Milla Jovovich's super-femme still hold firm at the heart.
