Reviews

Catch-all NYC trio's long-overdue follow-up to 1997 debut National Chain

NY's latest show daring diversity

Imagine Stephen Foster—or at least Van Dyke Parks—armed with a laptop and you're close to understanding the extraordinary charm of Californian duo Matmos' fifth album. Like 1999's The West, The Civil War negotiates a fragile entente between Americana and electronica, but does so on a bigger, constantly astonishing scale. Fireworks explode, battlefield drummers march across John Fahey's porch, Dr John is reconstructed out of glitches, an entire track is made from samples of a rabbit pelt, and "The Stars And Stripes Forever" is reduced to a postmodern shambles.

Light, bright solo debut from Charlatans' ex-pat frontman

Hip hop headscapes from Brighton beats magus

So-so stuff chiefly for Pitney fanatics

Cracking comeback compilation includes two stirring new songs

Astonishing eyewitness account of dictator's last days

Patrice Leconte (Ridicule) brings a sombre poetic realism to this elegiac meditation on the nature of fate and the road less travelled. Johnny Hallyday, battered and craggy with gravitas, is awesomely iconic as the taciturn gangster who encounters Jean Rochefort's inquisitive retired schoolteacher. The two men are inexorably attracted, seeing in the other the tragedy of the life they never lived.

Barbet Schroeder's outré 1976 tale of feral love between petty criminal Olivier (Gérard Depardieu) and high-class Parisian dominatrix Ariane (Bulle Ogier), complete with scrotum piercing and golden showers, was originally denied a BBFC certificate. In retrospect, the analogy between S&M and romantic power games is overplayed, but Schroeder's willingness to draw sex and death so close together is compelling.