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The Osbournes: The Second Series

Sharon's cancer treatment underlies these episodes, producing scenes of poignancy and humour as the family come to terms with her illness. Obviously darker than its predecessor, this also sees a certain loss of naivety, with the Osbournes increasingly aware of good camera moments. The success of the first series has led the teenagers into extreme territory, with Jack, the "man-whore", heading off the rails while Kelly struggles with celebrity.

Sharon’s cancer treatment underlies these episodes, producing scenes of poignancy and humour as the family come to terms with her illness. Obviously darker than its predecessor, this also sees a certain loss of naivety, with the Osbournes increasingly aware of good camera moments. The success of the first series has led the teenagers into extreme territory, with Jack, the “man-whore”, heading off the rails while Kelly struggles with celebrity.

Firefly

From Buffy and Angel creator Joss Whedon, a four-disc set of the only series (unscreened in the UK) of his "sci-fi western". Fans will relish the smart-ass jokes as a motley crew of screwed-up mercenaries do all the flawed, human things Star Trek didn't. There's more action and pyrotechnics than ideal, but it's a slow burner.

From Buffy and Angel creator Joss Whedon, a four-disc set of the only series (unscreened in the UK) of his “sci-fi western”. Fans will relish the smart-ass jokes as a motley crew of screwed-up mercenaries do all the flawed, human things Star Trek didn’t. There’s more action and pyrotechnics than ideal, but it’s a slow burner.

Starsky & Hutch: The Complete First Season

Fantastic DVD package compiling the ultimate '70s cop show's first and best season?seasons two onwards added Tom Scott's catchy sax theme but were considerably toned down and increasingly played for laughs. Five discs of '70s cornball TV at its absolute best. Watch out for banned-by-the-BBC episode "The Fix", in which Hutch gets hooked on heroin by a dastardly mob boss.

Fantastic DVD package compiling the ultimate ’70s cop show’s first and best season?seasons two onwards added Tom Scott’s catchy sax theme but were considerably toned down and increasingly played for laughs. Five discs of ’70s cornball TV at its absolute best. Watch out for banned-by-the-BBC episode “The Fix”, in which Hutch gets hooked on heroin by a dastardly mob boss.

Gun

This six-part TV anthology, produced by Robert Altman in 1997, follows a pearl-handled handgun as it passes from owner to owner across America. The premise is strong, as is the cast (Martin Sheen, Randy Quaid and Kirsten Dunst), but the show never quite lives up to the first two episodes?"Columbus Day", in which James Gandolfini and Rosanna Arquette knock acting spots off each other, and "All The President's Women", directed by Altman in kooky mood.

This six-part TV anthology, produced by Robert Altman in 1997, follows a pearl-handled handgun as it passes from owner to owner across America. The premise is strong, as is the cast (Martin Sheen, Randy Quaid and Kirsten Dunst), but the show never quite lives up to the first two episodes?”Columbus Day”, in which James Gandolfini and Rosanna Arquette knock acting spots off each other, and “All The President’s Women”, directed by Altman in kooky mood.

CSI: Season 3

The hugely popular crime series continues to thrive, with William Petersen, Marg Helgenberger and team solving heinous murders by looking very intensely through microscopes at bloodied strands of fibre while beautifully back-lit. That one trick's wearing a little thin, but the crash-bang camerawork, designer violence and Vegas vistas keep it shinily seductive.

The hugely popular crime series continues to thrive, with William Petersen, Marg Helgenberger and team solving heinous murders by looking very intensely through microscopes at bloodied strands of fibre while beautifully back-lit. That one trick’s wearing a little thin, but the crash-bang camerawork, designer violence and Vegas vistas keep it shinily seductive.

The Day Today

It's been eight years since The Day Today transferred from its original home on Radio 4 to BBC2, positioning the show's arch mischief makers Chris Morris, Steve Coogan and Armando lannucci at the vanguard of a new wave of comedians. A caustic satire on current affairs programming and contemporary media values, the transfer to TV enabled them to take the show to another level, employing the team behind the ITN News idents to create a barrage of bewildering graphics that served to ratchet up the neo-Dadaist madness present in the scripts. The Day Today also introduced to a wider audience Alan Partridge (at this stage merely an inept sports commentator) and Morris'supercilious, Paxmanesque anchor persona, which he later refined for Brass Eye. But beyond that, the scale of their media lampoonery is breathtaking, taking in everything from music TV stations to real-life emergency shows, the satire raining like arrows with relentless acuity, acid-tipped with surrealism. The influence of its key players can be felt in shows like Big Train, Spaced, Human Remains, Jam, Marion And Geoff and Nighty Night?but, significantly, real news reporting has become more, not less like The Day Today. One of the most important TV shows of the last decade?as chilling as it is funny.

It’s been eight years since The Day Today transferred from its original home on Radio 4 to BBC2, positioning the show’s arch mischief makers Chris Morris, Steve Coogan and Armando lannucci at the vanguard of a new wave of comedians. A caustic satire on current affairs programming and contemporary media values, the transfer to TV enabled them to take the show to another level, employing the team behind the ITN News idents to create a barrage of bewildering graphics that served to ratchet up the neo-Dadaist madness present in the scripts.

The Day Today also introduced to a wider audience Alan Partridge (at this stage merely an inept sports commentator) and Morris’supercilious, Paxmanesque anchor persona, which he later refined for Brass Eye. But beyond that, the scale of their media lampoonery is breathtaking, taking in everything from music TV stations to real-life emergency shows, the satire raining like arrows with relentless acuity, acid-tipped with surrealism. The influence of its key players can be felt in shows like Big Train, Spaced, Human Remains, Jam, Marion And Geoff and Nighty Night?but, significantly, real news reporting has become more, not less like The Day Today. One of the most important TV shows of the last decade?as chilling as it is funny.

Art Of Darkness

Ray's a petty gangster and tower-block tyrant who speaks with his fists, even if it means getting ugly with his wife and kids. Fired up on vodka and the odd line of coke, everything in Ray's life is defined by implied threats and latent aggression?love, business, friendship, family. He's a human vol...

Ray’s a petty gangster and tower-block tyrant who speaks with his fists, even if it means getting ugly with his wife and kids. Fired up on vodka and the odd line of coke, everything in Ray’s life is defined by implied threats and latent aggression?love, business, friendship, family. He’s a human volcano just waiting to erupt. And erupt he does.

Gary Oldman and Ray Winstone both seemed like spent forces from a past decade before Nil By Mouth loudly punctured the Blairite-Britpop Cool Britannia bubble. Oldman’s writer-director debut is tougher, realer and more sustained than any of his on-screen performances since his 1980s collaborations with Mike Leigh and Alan Clarke. And Winstone was born to play Ray, a terrifyingly charismatic father figure blind to his own self-loathing and hair-trigger temper. He is, literally, the Daddy.

Set in the working-class south London of Oldman’s own childhood, Nil By Mouth is full of powerhouse performances. Jamie Foreman, the son of Kray twins associate Freddie, lends edgy authenticity to Ray’s fiercely loyal drinking buddy Mark. But Kathy Burke is the true revelation in her most serious dramatic role, earning a Best Actress prize at Cannes in 1997 for playing Val, Ray’s soulfully sad human punchbag of a wife. Long before any fists are raised, Val is belittled and humiliated, her lowly place in Ray’s brutal pecking order perpetually reinforced by verbal and emotional bullying.

Oldman holds off on showing domestic violence until two-thirds of the way through, first establishing a context of scabby London pubs, booze and drugs, bad housing and poor parenting. You don’t need Ken Loach to find social comment beneath the raw docu-drama surface, although there’s none of the idealised and ideologically rigid depiction of earnest wage-slave suffering that Loach brings to his underclass yarns. Oldman’s lowlife bruisers are flawed but rounded, monstrous but deeply human.

Nil By Mouth was clearly a labour of both love and hate for Oldman. Pointedly dedicated to his father, it seethes with rage about violent, drunken, absent dads. Laila Morse (Janet) is the director’s sister, and that voice we hear when Edna Dor

Aileen: Life And Death Of A Serial Killer

Everyone's favourite investigative smoothie Nick Broomfield updates his 1991 doc Selling Of A Serial Killer by re-cataloguing the tragic, shambolic life of Aileen Wuornos (from homeless woodswoman to vagrant prostitute to multiple murderer) and finally interviewing a clearly demented Wuornos only hours before her execution. More sombre than the usual Broomfield outings, but effective all the same.

Everyone’s favourite investigative smoothie Nick Broomfield updates his 1991 doc Selling Of A Serial Killer by re-cataloguing the tragic, shambolic life of Aileen Wuornos (from homeless woodswoman to vagrant prostitute to multiple murderer) and finally interviewing a clearly demented Wuornos only hours before her execution. More sombre than the usual Broomfield outings, but effective all the same.

The Postman Always Rings Twice

In its 1946, Hays Code day, this adaptation of James M Cain's novel was provocative and erotic, although it was later out-raunched by the '81 Jack'n'Jessica version. This drips with textbook noir, and echoes Double Indemnity in both story and style. Femme fatale prototype Lana Turner tempts John Garfield to off her husband, but their comeuppance is inevitable. "He had to have her love?if he hung for it!"

In its 1946, Hays Code day, this adaptation of James M Cain’s novel was provocative and erotic, although it was later out-raunched by the ’81 Jack’n’Jessica version. This drips with textbook noir, and echoes Double Indemnity in both story and style. Femme fatale prototype Lana Turner tempts John Garfield to off her husband, but their comeuppance is inevitable. “He had to have her love?if he hung for it!”

As South Africa celebrates the 10th anniversary of Mandela's election, Lee Hirsch's documentary, which won a brace of awards at the Sundance Film Festival, pays moving tribute to the central role music played in the struggle for liberation. Contributions from the giants of South African music like Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and Abdullah Ibrahim are intercut with footage showing the horrors of apartheid.

As South Africa celebrates the 10th anniversary of Mandela’s election, Lee Hirsch’s documentary, which won a brace of awards at the Sundance Film Festival, pays moving tribute to the central role music played in the struggle for liberation. Contributions from the giants of South African music like Hugh Masekela, Miriam Makeba and Abdullah Ibrahim are intercut with footage showing the horrors of apartheid.

Susan Hayward won the Oscar for committed scene-trashing in this 1958 movie, which?based on the real-life execution of Barbara Graham, a "goodtime girl" (possibly) framed for murder and sent to the gas chamber in 1955?was very much the Monster of its day. Robert Wise directs as if it were a jazz documentary, taking cues from the great score by Johnny Mandel, itself cooled to within an inch of its life by the Gerry Mulligan Quartet.

Susan Hayward won the Oscar for committed scene-trashing in this 1958 movie, which?based on the real-life execution of Barbara Graham, a “goodtime girl” (possibly) framed for murder and sent to the gas chamber in 1955?was very much the Monster of its day. Robert Wise directs as if it were a jazz documentary, taking cues from the great score by Johnny Mandel, itself cooled to within an inch of its life by the Gerry Mulligan Quartet.

Trilogy (La Trilogie) (1, 2 & 3)

Director/star Lucas Belvaux's ambitious triptych, set in Grenoble, consists of three films in different genres, with overlapping characters featuring to varying degrees. On The Run is a jailbreak thriller, An Amazing Couple is a serious rom-com, and After Life is a neo-tragic melodrama. You can watch them in the 'wrong' order and shake the kaleidoscope yourself, but it's innately dark.

Director/star Lucas Belvaux’s ambitious triptych, set in Grenoble, consists of three films in different genres, with overlapping characters featuring to varying degrees. On The Run is a jailbreak thriller, An Amazing Couple is a serious rom-com, and After Life is a neo-tragic melodrama. You can watch them in the ‘wrong’ order and shake the kaleidoscope yourself, but it’s innately dark.

Out Of Time

Director Carl Franklin reunites with Devil In A Blue Dress star Denzel Washington for this stylish-looking contemporary film noir. Denzel's Florida police chief, who's having an affair with nasty Dean Cain's wife, finds himself the subject of a murder investigation headed by his estranged wife. Though there's plenty of twists, the outcome isn't entirely unpredictable. Fun, though, while it lasts.

Director Carl Franklin reunites with Devil In A Blue Dress star Denzel Washington for this stylish-looking contemporary film noir. Denzel’s Florida police chief, who’s having an affair with nasty Dean Cain’s wife, finds himself the subject of a murder investigation headed by his estranged wife. Though there’s plenty of twists, the outcome isn’t entirely unpredictable. Fun, though, while it lasts.

A Little Night Music

Dennis Hopper calls it "the first truly American surrealist film". The novelists JG Ballard and Jenny Diski, speaking on the slender documentary extras that accompany this double-disc set, find parallels with Freudian Oedipal theory. Even the notoriously cryptic director appears in archive footage, attempting to half-explain the inexplicable. In 1986, David Lynch sealed his reputation forever as cinema's chief nagivator of the psychosexual subconscious. A brilliant and unsettling trawl through the nocturnal underbelly of an impossibly cheerful small American city, Blue Velvet was shot in Wilmington, North Carolina, here renamed Lumberton. Halfway through the shoot, Lynch's producers discovered there was a real Lumberton nearby, negotiating use of the name in return for shooting a small section of their movie there. Kyle MacLachlan flirts winningly with golly-gee parody as Jeffrey Beaumont, a clean-cut hero straight out of 1950s Hollywood who becomes entangled in the twisted sex games between masochistic club singer Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini) and her psycho-killer lover Frank (Dennis Hopper). Hopper actually changed his demented sex scenes, having Frank breathe amyl nitrate and nitrous oxide rather than helium. In retrospect, Hopper concedes, Lynch's initial idea would have been even more disturbing. Using motifs and themes he later revisited in Twin Peaks and Mulholland Drive, Lynch assails the viewer with black humour and lurid violence. Two decades later, Blue Velvet's stylised action sometimes plods a little, and the shock value has clearly diminished. But Lynch's surreal, intoxicating masterpiece is still a darkly hypnotic movie milestone.

Dennis Hopper calls it “the first truly American surrealist film”. The novelists JG Ballard and Jenny Diski, speaking on the slender documentary extras that accompany this double-disc set, find parallels with Freudian Oedipal theory. Even the notoriously cryptic director appears in archive footage, attempting to half-explain the inexplicable.

In 1986, David Lynch sealed his reputation forever as cinema’s chief nagivator of the psychosexual subconscious. A brilliant and unsettling trawl through the nocturnal underbelly of an impossibly cheerful small American city, Blue Velvet was shot in Wilmington, North Carolina, here renamed Lumberton. Halfway through the shoot, Lynch’s producers discovered there was a real Lumberton nearby, negotiating use of the name in return for shooting a small section of their movie there.

Kyle MacLachlan flirts winningly with golly-gee parody as Jeffrey Beaumont, a clean-cut hero straight out of 1950s Hollywood who becomes entangled in the twisted sex games between masochistic club singer Dorothy (Isabella Rossellini) and her psycho-killer lover Frank (Dennis Hopper). Hopper actually changed his demented sex scenes, having Frank breathe amyl nitrate and nitrous oxide rather than helium. In retrospect, Hopper concedes, Lynch’s initial idea would have been even more disturbing.

Using motifs and themes he later revisited in Twin Peaks and Mulholland Drive, Lynch assails the viewer with black humour and lurid violence. Two decades later, Blue Velvet’s stylised action sometimes plods a little, and the shock value has clearly diminished. But Lynch’s surreal, intoxicating masterpiece is still a darkly hypnotic movie milestone.

A Decade Under The Influence

An Easy Riders, Raging Bulls companion piece, co-directed by Fisher King screenwriter Richard LaGravenese and the late Ted Demme, this is a worthwhile talking-heads-and-clips trawl through Hollywood's 1970s renaissance. It lacks any hint of critical distance but is valuable for collecting the testimony of the usual suspects, including Corman, Scorsese, Coppola, Friedkin, Altman, Bogdanovich, Hopper and Paul Schrader on pretty funny form: "The film business was a decadent, decaying, emptied whorehouse, and it had to be assaulted."

An Easy Riders, Raging Bulls companion piece, co-directed by Fisher King screenwriter Richard LaGravenese and the late Ted Demme, this is a worthwhile talking-heads-and-clips trawl through Hollywood’s 1970s renaissance. It lacks any hint of critical distance but is valuable for collecting the testimony of the usual suspects, including Corman, Scorsese, Coppola, Friedkin, Altman, Bogdanovich, Hopper and Paul Schrader on pretty funny form: “The film business was a decadent, decaying, emptied whorehouse, and it had to be assaulted.”

Message In A Battle

It's 1876 and Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise) is a broken man. A survivor of the Indian wars and Custer's defeat at the Battle of Little Big Horn, he's seen more death and horror in his time than any man has a right to. When he's not too drunk, he's a sideshow sharp-shooter, killing time until either the whiskey or the bad dreams finish him off. His old comrade Colonel Bagley (Tony Goldwyn) appears to throw him a lifeline, offering him the opportunity to go to Yokomama and train up the Imperial Japanese army. Seems they're having trouble with one of their own?a fearsome samurai warlord, Katsumoto (Ken Watanabe), whose objections to the Westernisation of the Imperial court have angered the Emperor's more machiavellian advisors. Katsumoto, it seems, must be terminated with extreme prejudice. The first engagement with the samurai turns into a rout, most of Algren's woefully inexperienced men left for dead and Algren himself wounded and taken hostage by Katsumoto, who plans to learn what he can about his new enemy. Held prisoner in Katsumoto's mountain village during the long winter months, Algren is slowly inspired by the samurai's transcendental moral and spiritual codes, and finds his own sense of honour subsequently reawakened. In the end, he finds himself fighting alongside Katsumoto against the Imperial army and Bagley, looking for redemption on the battlefield, outgunned and outmanned but ready to die, at last, for something that he truly believes in. The idea of a soldier going native isn't new to cinema?John Milius, for instance, squeezed two screenplays out of the premise with Apocalypse Now and Farewell To The King. Here Cruise and director Ed Zwick have created a spectacular, old-fashioned epic, more concerned with narrative arcs and character development than wowing audiences with the kind of technological bombast that seems to have become the accepted norm for blockbusters in these post-Matrix times. Cruise, who's on screen for almost the whole movie, turns in a career-best performance; apart from a shaky start (he doesn't do drunk very well) you get a real sense of a disillusioned, angry man gradually recovering his self-esteem and finding meaning in his life once more. Watanabe is a charismatic and regal presence, and elsewhere Timothy Spall plays the role that used to be reserved for Robert Morley in these kind of situations. The final third is the mother of all battles, a relentless blur of swords soundtracked by the never-ending roar of artillery fire, keenly orchestrated by Zwick. It's ferocious stuff. A proper movie, in other words.

It’s 1876 and Nathan Algren (Tom Cruise) is a broken man. A survivor of the Indian wars and Custer’s defeat at the Battle of Little Big Horn, he’s seen more death and horror in his time than any man has a right to. When he’s not too drunk, he’s a sideshow sharp-shooter, killing time until either the whiskey or the bad dreams finish him off. His old comrade Colonel Bagley (Tony Goldwyn) appears to throw him a lifeline, offering him the opportunity to go to Yokomama and train up the Imperial Japanese army. Seems they’re having trouble with one of their own?a fearsome samurai warlord, Katsumoto (Ken Watanabe), whose objections to the Westernisation of the Imperial court have angered the Emperor’s more machiavellian advisors. Katsumoto, it seems, must be terminated with extreme prejudice.

The first engagement with the samurai turns into a rout, most of Algren’s woefully inexperienced men left for dead and Algren himself wounded and taken hostage by Katsumoto, who plans to learn what he can about his new enemy. Held prisoner in Katsumoto’s mountain village during the long winter months, Algren is slowly inspired by the samurai’s transcendental moral and spiritual codes, and finds his own sense of honour subsequently reawakened. In the end, he finds himself fighting alongside Katsumoto against the Imperial army and Bagley, looking for redemption on the battlefield, outgunned and outmanned but ready to die, at last, for something that he truly believes in.

The idea of a soldier going native isn’t new to cinema?John Milius, for instance, squeezed two screenplays out of the premise with Apocalypse Now and Farewell To The King. Here Cruise and director Ed Zwick have created a spectacular, old-fashioned epic, more concerned with narrative arcs and character development than wowing audiences with the kind of technological bombast that seems to have become the accepted norm for blockbusters in these post-Matrix times. Cruise, who’s on screen for almost the whole movie, turns in a career-best performance; apart from a shaky start (he doesn’t do drunk very well) you get a real sense of a disillusioned, angry man gradually recovering his self-esteem and finding meaning in his life once more. Watanabe is a charismatic and regal presence, and elsewhere Timothy Spall plays the role that used to be reserved for Robert Morley in these kind of situations.

The final third is the mother of all battles, a relentless blur of swords soundtracked by the never-ending roar of artillery fire, keenly orchestrated by Zwick. It’s ferocious stuff.

A proper movie, in other words.

Break For The Border

DVD always runs the risk of turning into a dustbin for live shows and dodgy outtakes which seem to qualify for release solely on the grounds that they exist and they're available. Get it right, though, and the format can help to give a 360-degree view of an act that you can't always get through audi...

DVD always runs the risk of turning into a dustbin for live shows and dodgy outtakes which seem to qualify for release solely on the grounds that they exist and they’re available. Get it right, though, and the format can help to give a 360-degree view of an act that you can’t always get through audio alone.

Calexico’s first foray into the medium is something of an object lesson. The band’s nucleus, Joey Burns and John Convertino, both tend towards fastidiousness and perfectionism. Burns claims that they didn’t burden themselves with vast amounts of pre-planning before they shot this performance, but maybe he’s being too modest. In any event, it looks great. It was filmed at London’s Barbican Centre in November 2002, but the way it’s lit with subtle blues, browns and golds, the cameras homing in deftly on the instrumental or vocal action as though they’d been routining the shoot for weeks, takes you way beyond the mundane confines of the hall. The Barbican is widely regarded as an excellent venue for classical music and a little uncomfortable for rock’n’roll shows?but this footage gets you so involved in the performance that it simply isn’t an issue.

The concert followed closely on the completion of Calexico’s fourth album, Feast Of Wire, so quite naturally this shapes the bulk of the set. The acoustic guitar, accordion and pedal-steel of “Sunken Waltz” lilt along over high-stepping string bass, while “Black Heart” is all simmering blues, oozing menace. Over the brisk strum of “Not Even Stevie Nicks”, Burns daringly tries out his falsetto vocal register and pulls it off without a hitch. On the drums, Convertino deploys an armoury of nifty techniques without ever lapsing into pointless flashiness. His trick of using a drumstick with one hand while rattling a pair of shakers with the other must be the percussive equivalent of rubbing your stomach while patting your head.

The duo have rounded up an expert bunch of additional Calexicans for stage work, including the multi-instrumentalist Martin Wenk, Lambchop steel player Paul Niehaus, bassist Volker Zander and trumpeter Jacob Valenzuela. Here they’re joined by some extra guests. French singer Fran

Bob Dylan – Unplugged

Recorded for MTV's acoustic strand in 1994, this catches the Mighty Zimm midway between the raw-boned graverobbing of World Gone Wrong and Time Out Of Mind's resurrection shuffle. A respectable, if slightly sterile flick through his back pages?"The Times They Are A-Changin'", "Knockin' On Heaven's Door" and "Like A Rolling Stone"?though he seems most fired up by newer material like "Shooting Star" and "Dignity". Not the stuff of legend, but not to be sniffed at.

Recorded for MTV’s acoustic strand in 1994, this catches the Mighty Zimm midway between the raw-boned graverobbing of World Gone Wrong and Time Out Of Mind’s resurrection shuffle. A respectable, if slightly sterile flick through his back pages?”The Times They Are A-Changin'”, “Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” and “Like A Rolling Stone”?though he seems most fired up by newer material like “Shooting Star” and “Dignity”. Not the stuff of legend, but not to be sniffed at.

Carl Perkins And Friends – Blue Suede Shoes: A Rockabilly Session

And the "friends" include Ringo Starr, George Harrison and Eric Clapton. Recorded in front of a studio audience in London in 1985, Perkins never needed six guitarists back at Sun Studios in the '50s, and producer Dave Edmunds should have booted out half of them. But Perkins is in vigorous voice, a quiffed-up George turns out to be a total rockabilly king, and when the Teds start jiving in the aisles, it's irresistible.

And the “friends” include Ringo Starr, George Harrison and Eric Clapton. Recorded in front of a studio audience in London in 1985, Perkins never needed six guitarists back at Sun Studios in the ’50s, and producer Dave Edmunds should have booted out half of them. But Perkins is in vigorous voice, a quiffed-up George turns out to be a total rockabilly king, and when the Teds start jiving in the aisles, it’s irresistible.

ABC – Absolutely ABC

For all their recorded lushness?and was there a more pristine '80s bauble than The Lexicon Of Love??ABC never quite nailed the visuals. The Jerome K Jerome river-larks of "The Look Of Love" and cartoon capery of "How To Be A Millionaire" aside, it was disappointingly standard fare: Martin Fry doing lost and lovelorn while being cold-shouldered by aloof waifs. As the decade (and the hits) thinned out, the videos almost stopped trying altogether.

For all their recorded lushness?and was there a more pristine ’80s bauble than The Lexicon Of Love??ABC never quite nailed the visuals. The Jerome K Jerome river-larks of “The Look Of Love” and cartoon capery of “How To Be A Millionaire” aside, it was disappointingly standard fare: Martin Fry doing lost and lovelorn while being cold-shouldered by aloof waifs. As the decade (and the hits) thinned out, the videos almost stopped trying altogether.