High plains drifter is Clint Eastwood, the nascent director, at his most elemental. He's post-Leone and pre-Josey Wales here, working from a script by Ernest Shaft Tidyman, playing a "squinty-eyed son of a bitch"who saves a small town in the Old West from a sadistic group of escaped convicts. It's a harsh, frequently brutal amorality play. The credits have barely rolled before we're treated to callous multiple murders and a 'consenting rape'scene.

Also released this month... Shining like a beacon in the depressing pre-Christmas landscape of mouldy old video collections and dodgy concert films is Jane's Addiction's Three Days SANCTUARY Filmed by Carter Smith and Kevin Ford on the band's 1997 Relapse tour, it's a fully-realised piece of rock cinema that dramatically transcends the limitations of your average tour documentary.

All four movies from the interstellar belly-bursting-baddie franchise in extended form, plus five discs of extras

In 1999, Beavis & Butthead creator Mike Judge made his first foray into live action with this good-natured satire on the mind-numbing life of the white-collar worker. Ron Livingstone is the drone desperate to escape his corporate existence, whose attempts to get sacked leave a team of troubleshooters convinced he's management material. Jennifer Aniston co-stars. Over-looked, but often screamingly funny.

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.

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.

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.

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.

William Friedkin's original was dazzling, intelligent and scary; John Boorman's train wreck of a sequel is none of the above. Richard Burton is at his hammiest as the priest investigating the death of Father Merrin at the end of the first movie, Louise Fletcher plays Regan's psychiatrist, and the screenplay is one of the worst ever committed to paper. Avoid.

Mike Figgis' brilliant experiment spawned many imitations, some by him, none as good. Against a quartered screen, four cameras show—in real time—a multi-strand narrative, played out among Tinseltown wannabes and has-beens. There's sex, murder, moral vacuums and a huge cast including Stellan Skarsgård and Saffron Burrows. Figgis' own music ices the cake. Genius.