DVD, Blu-ray and TV

Lou Ye's beguiling movie tells the hazy, cut-up tale of a motorcycle courier once hired to follow a woman he then fell for, who subsequently threw herself into the river but seems to have been reborn as a nightclub performer dressed as a mermaid. With its drifting, subjective camera capturing jump-cut collages of street life in the neon-splashed city, it's a fascinatingly intimate portrait of the Shanghai river front, wrapped around a mystery.

Since the career peaks of Fargo and The Big Lebowski, the Coen brothers' previously astonishing career momentum has noticeably faltered. O Brother, Where Art Thou? had some good things going for it, but is probably best remembered for its soundtrack.

Another random trawl through the Whistle Test archives proves perhaps just too random—it's unlikely fans of Half Man Half Biscuit (their 1986 TV debut) or The Jam ('78's "'A' Bomb...") will be tempted by strange bedfellows like Supertramp and Chris Rea. So something for everyone but far too diverse a range to fully satisfy any camp.

Tran Anh Hung's 1992 debut begins in 1951, as 10-year-old peasant girl Mui travels to Saigon to serve in a middle-class household. As she grows into a woman, we witness her daily domestic tasks, and the growing fractures in the family and society around her. A headily serene, hypnotically sensuous movie, observing reality in such close detail it becomes poetry, a song about work, life, and how the two run together.

Po-faced but spectacular Biblical epic starring Yul Brynner (with hair) as the legendarily wise king who risks losing the throne of Israel by making whoopee with the saucy-but-pagan queen of Sheba (Gina Lollobrigida). George Sanders plays the villain (hurrah), the cast-of-thousands battle scenes are impressive and the unintentionally hilarious 'orgy' is an absolute must-see.

It's too much to digest in one sitting—three discs, seven hours and almost 100 songs, released in commemoration of the 25th anniversary of Jacques Brel's death. But it's fascinating to watch him turn so rapidly from the hesitant, gauche performer of the late-'50s into the charismatic equivalent of a Gallic Sinatra.

Minor shocker (made for TV) from Wes Craven, starring Linda Blair as a schoolgirl whose boyfriend and family get taken over by her evil cousin, a backwoods witch. Only Blair's horse and friendly supernatural expert Macdonald Carey can tell the possessed from normal people. Also known as Stranger In Our House, and for Blair and Craven completists only.

Another brave taboo-buster from Joseph Strick, tackling Jean Genet's play in 1964 with the kind of cast that has you pinching yourself: Shelley Winters, Peter Falk and a youthful Leonard Nimoy. In a brothel that's a hideaway from the war outside, Winters is a fearsome madam and Nimoy's a rebel leader. Surreal and grubbily saucy, though the low budget shows its cracks at times.

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.

Sardonic slam-bam action romp with brains