Reviews

Even the director of this film, recounting the tale of how road manager Phil Kaufman stole and burned Gram Parsons' corpse, was surprised when Parsons' wife and daughter okay-ed the use of his music. Parsons' "A Song For You" and "Love Hurts" and The Flying Burrito Brothers' "Wild Horses" evoke the era, along with Country Joe and Eddie Floyd. Gillian Welch tackles "Hickory Wind", and Starsailor handle "Hot Burrito No 2" bombastically. But The Lemonheads, Wilco and trend-whores Primal Scream just seek cred by association. Twangy.

Twelve-track compilation of Oz indie legends, with bonus rarities CD

Lost soft-pop masterpiece from Nashville arranger and former Elvis cohort

The strangely familiar downfall of John Holmes

Orson Welles' darkly comic 1963 adaptation of Kafka's paranoid fable is still visually stunning, with an unforgettable performance by Anthony Perkins as the hapless Josef K, placed on trial for reasons unknown. "He's guilty as sin," was Welles' verdict, and so Perkins plays it all the way as a shifty, twitchy ball of nerves. Superb.

Pretty funny farce from the Farrellys: not back to their best, but at least regrouping. Greg Kinnear and Matt Damon are conjoined twins who leave smalltown life to seek fame in Hollywood. Evil Cher's mad scheme backfires, and they make it. But what they really want is love...awww. Sweet and slick, with fine gags like, "He's drinking; I'm the designated walker."

As South Africa celebrates the 10th anniversary of Mandela's election, Lee Hirsch's documentary, which won a brace of awards at the Sundance Film Festival, pays moving tribute to the central role music played in the struggle for liberation. Contributions from the giants of South African music like Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and Abdullah Ibrahim are intercut with footage showing the horrors of apartheid.

Three DVDs which catch the rock'n'roll maverick onstage and backstage

Two albums featuring the elven genius of new folk

This is the perfect album for your inner schizo Francophile hippie. Factually based in the late '60s, but so wilfully mixed up it's very postmodern-ly now, one of its personalities is fuzzily made up of Hendrix, The Doors and the Grateful Dead (plus actor Michael Pitt murdering "Hey Joe" with his band). The other's stylishly into nouvelle vague, with blissful borrowed excerpts from the scores to The 400 Blows, Breathless and Pierrot Le Fou, and warblings from Françoise Hardy and Edith Piaf.