Reviews

Predictably brash big-screen version of unremarkable '70s TV show, with Samuel L Jackson knocking a rogue SWAT team into shape and making unlikely heroes of them. There's more gunfire than dialogue, so Jackson isn't asked to do more than shout a lot, while Colin Farrell squints manfully and kills everyone in sight.

November 2003's AIDS benefit in Cape Town was made special by the presence of one person. No, not Bono, Beyoncé, Geldof, Gabriel or Ms Dynamite, mightily as they perform. On this showing, the biggest star in the world is currently Nelson Mandela, who inspired the event and gets a cheer 10 times as long and loud as the rest combined. A vital cause, some decent music, a few dodgy stadium rock moments and the world's only living saint.

Jon Langford's perennial discontents make retro modern

Twentieth solo album and full-scale return to form from the artist formerly known as TR-I

Waters' last Floyd album is harrowing and still surprisingly relevant

A hellish Brazil prison is consumed by riot and massacre

Sleazecore rocker Rob Zombie pays homage to the golden 1970s heyday of psycho-slasher flicks with his wilfully trashy but memorably nightmarish debut feature, which makes up for a slow start with its final descent into a shock-rocking Hellzone of backwoods mutants, Satanic serial killers, hardcore violence and unimaginable torture. Mixing grainy film stock and period detail, Zombie takes inspiration from Driller Killer, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre, The Evil Dead and other midnight-movie classics.

Hungarian monochrome master Bela Tarr doesn't piss around with frivolities like humour, logic or even much in the way of dialogue. And yet these lean, unstintingly intense films about people walking around a lot, suffering for love (in Damnation) or trying to prevent society from descending into chaos (Werckmeister Harmonies) are transcendent. At the very least, this will make illuminating viewing for fans of Gus Van Sant's last two flicks, Gerry and Elephant, since Tarr's work directly inspired them.

Novelist Alexander Trocchi's uneasy blend of Beat existentialism and pseudo porn continue to gnaw in this stylish adaptation of his 1954 whodunnit. Ewan McGregor is suitably dour as the sinister drifter while director David Mackenzie proves himself a master of sustained gloom. But it's the sex scenes, progressing from erotic to self-conscious to simply absurd, that continually corrode.

On-the-road documentary trailing Nashville's own Lazarus Man