Reviews

Nicholas Ray's 1948 debut launches a retrospective season at the NFT

There's only one real Robin Hood, and that's Errol Flynn, now buckling his swash in this lovingly restored version of the 1938 classic. "You speak treason," observes cowardly King John (Claude Rains). "Fluently," Errol proudly admits, before crossing blades with Olympic duellist Basil Rathbone, rescuing the blushing Olivia de Havilland and feeding the poor of Sherwood. Hurrah!

Sadomasochistic shenanigans over the fax machine

Debut solo album proper from one half of most successful duo in rock history

Former God Machine frontman rediscovers the heavy rock within him

Solo debut from the Sugarcubes' other voice

50 Cent's ill-conceived follow-up to Get Rich Or Die Tryin'

Reissued best-of follows renewed interest in scabrous post-punk politicos

It's an unlikely story: avant-garde cellist sees the light in a disco glitterball at New York gay club The Gallery and decides disco is the ultimate modern format for exploring minimalist composition. In the mid-'70s, Russell—conservatory-trained, a scholar of Eastern music forms, steeped in the ideas of Steve Reich and Terry Riley—was blown away by the engulfing quality of music transmitted over a massive club sound system and literally entranced by disco's use of repetition.

Oddball two-dimensional anti-hero Harvey Pekar comes to the big screen