Reviews

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.

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.

Neat narcotic nihilism from Norway

Electronica doesn't even begin to describe it...

Post-rocking, micro-house enthusiasts release second album

Sixth album from Washington DC power trio adds politics to the mix

Elemental, my dear Wreckless. Eric Goulden's 1986 releases on a twofer

Graceful examination of guilt and grief

Sardonic slam-bam action romp with brains

Rain? Leather? Uzis? Slow-mo? Plot? Ah...Character? Um...Performance? Ahem...Sexy and inspired concept—werewolves versus vampires, with extra ammo—visibly collapses amid a slew of derivative Matrix shoot-'em-ups, excruciating line deliveries and cack-handed direction from Megadeth music video veteran Len Wiseman. Kate Beckinsale can only high-kick and cringe.