Reviews

Tough-guy maverick Sam Fuller's banned '60s moral melodramas resurface in all their bleak and bizarre glory

As the house band at Motown throughout the '60s, the Funk Brothers were arguably the greatest hit machine the world has ever seen. Yet nobody ever knew who they were. Three decades later, director Paul Justman tracked down the survivors and brought them out of obscurity to pay belated tribute to the men who made the Motown sound. Evocative and nostalgic stuff.

Absurdly titled, long delayed but ultimately outstanding 24th studio LP

There's a great moment in Don't Look Back where Dylan informs a disbelieving reporter that he's as good a singer as Caruso, qualifying the claim by stating he hits all the notes that he wants to hit. Robert Wyatt is of exactly the same mould. That quavery high pitch and childlike annunciation spring from one of contemporary music's most original voices. Much of Solar Flares documents an artist in transition.

The latest Swedish cowboy, Jonsson was praised early last year for his subtle-sweet EP Then I Kissed Her Softly. Having trodden European boards with Damien Jurado and Rosie Thomas, the 23-year-old's LP debut roots itself in similar earth. There's much of Jurado in his downcast tremble, while Fredrik Wilde's pedal-steel and Carl Edlom's softly cantering piano brighten the corners. "Shades Of Green" and "Black And Blue" shuffle with the kind of milky-moon sadness Neil Young patented on After The Gold Rush. Elsewhere, there are hints of the Palace Brothers and Low.

Early-'70s hitmaker gets two-CD best-of and instant-cachet Bob Stanley sleevenotes

Ten-CD companion to last year's 24 Hours live CD box set

Directed by Peter Jackson Starring Elijah Wood, Viggo Mortensen Opened December 17, Cert 12A, 201 mins Now war is declared and battle come down. Armies are mustered, siege weapons unveiled and war elephants saddled. The forces of good line up for a mighty ruck, the outcome of which will dictate the fate of mankind. Hold the line chaps, and watch out for those elephants. The final part of Peter Jackson's Tolkien trilogy is already assured a record-breaking box office haul.

Roy Boulting's 1970 sex comedy, adapted from a then long-running stage play, carries an over-inflated reputation. The set-pieces now seem clunky, as Peter Sellers, looking distinctly uncomfortable, plays a smarmy, lascivious TV star who meets his nemesis in plucky Goldie Hawn. Watching their free love will cost you. Still, the marvellous Diana Dors lifts it briefly.

Don't expect John McTiernan's blustery military thriller to deliver the same buzzing chemistry between John Travolta and Samuel L Jackson as Pulp Fiction. The two stars barely even meet as Travolta's bad-ass investigator puzzles out the mystery of Jackson's missing Ranger instructor via a series of twist-heavy flashbacks. McTiernan delivers balls-out action, but he's a total hack, mauling all the subtlety out of a potentially intriguing yarn.