Reviews

Evan Parker ought to be knighted for re-mastering and reissuing this, one of the great British orchestral jazz records. Utilising stalwart British jazzers alongside wildcard improvisers like saxophonist Parker, guitarist Derek Bailey and percussionist Tony Oxley, Wheeler brilliantly fuses gorgeously limpid melodies ("Ballad Two") with free-form interludes. Great cliffs of brass echo Gil Evans, but note the subtle nod to electric Miles (those two electric pianos) and the inspired use of Norma Winstone's voice as an instrument.

Alec Baldwin excels in this impressive tale of monstrous Vegas gangsters and their victims

It's Lee Evans, but not as we know him...

Neil LaBute had gone off the boil, but this low-budget version of his own stage play (with the same cast, including Rachel Weisz and Paul Rudd, who'd acted in London and Broadway) is a quite brilliant examination of the evil women do, a kind of flipside to In The Company Of Men. It's also a clever debate about the interface between creativity and love or sex. Weisz relishes the chance to be acid on legs.

Based on a Philip K Dick short story and directed by John Woo, Paycheck plays like a made-for-TV Minority Report. It boasts a screenplay from, ahem, Dean Georgaris (Tomb Raider 2—nuff said), it stars Ben Affleck and Uma Thurman at their charmless worst, and it's Woo's dullest action-direction in years. No John, slo-mo doesn't make it better!

Magnificent, melancholic moodpiece concerning two lost souls in Tokyo

First album from London duo offering "fantasy pop version of post-punk"

The new Dawson's Creek, and declared a guilty pleasure for adults by every Sunday supplement you read. To enjoy the music fully, pretend you still ask your mum and dad's permission to stay out after nine. Having made such a leap, swoon to timid acoustic moments from Spoon, South and William Orbit. Get a bit stroppy to the Dandy Warhols or Doves, slam the door to Turin Brakes, then storm out in a huff crying to the grown-up riffs of Jet, who, in this context, sound like they shave and might piss on your barbecue. It's called Orange County because of the colour of the actors' skin, by the way.

Brazilian avant-bossa nova master and sidekick to David Byrne and Arto Lindsay

Emboldened by live triumphs, pop's one true genius re-enters the studio