The first in Takashi Miike’s career-making Triad Society Trilogy. Set in Tokyo’s Shinjuku district, rogue cop Kippei Shiina puts himself between local yakuza and a gay Taiwanese mob; cue cocaine-fuelled blow jobs, anal rape and old ladies having their eyeballs plucked out. A Hollywood remake seems unlikely.

A punchy and intelligent tale, co-written by Michael Tolkin, about an unethical yuppie lawyer (Ben Affleck) locked in a battle of wills with a troubled divorcee (Samuel L Jackson). Toni Collette and Sydney Pollack lead the heavyweight supporting cast, and director Roger Michell delivers a bracing state-of-the-nation bulletin in the vein of Falling Down.

Wim Wenders may be struggling to land a gig these days, but this 1977 noir thriller was his big-screen breakthrough. Adapted from Patricia Highsmith’s novel (and remade this month as Ripley’s Game, see p145) it finds Dennis Hopper for once understated as art dealer Tom Ripley, who persuades dying Berliner Bruno Ganz to become a hitman.

Giuseppe Tornatore’s Oscar-winning ode to cinema revolves around a famous film director returning to his native Sicilian village to attend the funeral of a local cinema projectionist who’d befriended him as a young boy and cultivated his love of film. Pure magic.

Ling (Samuel Hui) and his tomboy sister are charged with keeping a sacred scroll from the clutches of their self-serving Sifu and the scarier-than-they-sound Royal Eunuchs. With multiple directors and more characters than it can handle, the cracks show, but the swordplay and comedic touch proved popular enough to spawn two sequels.

Maria Ripoll’s handsome 2001 remake of Ang Lee’s Eat Drink Man Woman is anchored by the highly watchable Hector Elizondo as the widowed kitchen maestro with three wayward daughters and a frisky neighbour (Raquel Welch) who clearly wants to turn him into a naked chef. The plot has been sweetened a little, but the performances are fine and the photography sumptuous.

It’s more like a home movie than a modern music documentary. But that’s the charm of Grateful Dawg. Jerry Garcia and mandolin player David Grisman first met on the San Fran folk scene in the ’60s and remained friends for over three decades, getting together to play acoustic bluegrass music whenever Garcia’s band commitments permitted.

Directed by Grisman’s daughter Gillian, Grateful Dawg chronicles their partnership through live concert footage and, even better, relaxed and intimate jam sessions in Grisman’s living room. Their repertoire is vast, from old Bill Monroe tunes to Dead classics such as “Friend Of The Devil”, via bluegrass versions of reggae favourites such as Jimmy Cliff’s “Sitting In Limbo”. The playing is intuitive but earthy and their spirits became so kindred that they even ended up looking alike, provoking the endearing nickname “two beards of the same feather”.

The music is augmented by interviews that are moving rather than illuminating, as Grisman and others talk about what Garcia meant to them and their sense of loss following his death in 1995. But it’s the music that is the real star here?full of an easy and timeless charm that exists for no other reason than the shared joy of playing together.

The Fall are here brilliantly captured in their early-’80s heyday. First released on video in 1983, this is an amateurish but energetic send-up of pop promos, with Mark E Smith on hilarious form, whether skulking around an empty football ground, miming into a beer can on the video for “Kicker Conspiracy”, or dancing like a basket case for “Eat Y’Self Fitter”.

This six-DVD set’s total running time of 24 hours is enough in itself to set alarm bells ringing. Footage of northern soul in its ’70s prime is almost non-existent. Cameras only ever went inside the legendary Wigan Casino once for a documentary (1977’s This England), which isn’t included. What does that leave us with? Talking heads padded out with the shittest home-made videos you’ve ever seen. And over a hundred northern soul artistes as they are now, miming to re-recordings of their hits. One star for unintentional comedy value.

No stranger to stage dramatics, Peter Gabriel created one of rock’s great spectacles on 1993’s “Secret World” tour. Seen by over a million people across five continents, only U2 and the Stones have rivalled it for theatrical excess. Robert LePage’s stage designs still astound?and a still youthful-looking Gabriel matches them with his own charismatic presence on songs like “Sledgehammer”.