Throughout cinema history there have been certain flashpoints, the sparks produced when a director and an actor recognise in each other their alter ego: Ford and Wayne; Scorsese and De Niro. Perhaps the most intense of these has been the extraordinary collaborations between German visionary Werner Herzog and the fabled maniac who became his artistic double and evil twin, the late Klaus Kinski.

This incredible set chronicles their tempestuous relationship via the five features they made together. There’s the Conquistador’s downfall, Aguirre: The Wrath Of God (1972); Kinski as a pale, lonely Nosferatu (1978); the soldier’s tale Woyzeck (1979); the insanely ambitious Fitzcarraldo (1982); and an unsentimental portrait of the late-19th century slave trade, Cobra Verde (1988). All are studies of isolation, alienation and extremes, filmed in the remotest of places with Herzog’s incredible eye for raw nature. What’s even more compelling is the love-hate relationship between the two men as they goad one another to further heights. Kinski’s fearlessly expressionistic acting never found a more sympathetic collaborator, but as Herzog’s 1999 documentary on their stormy friendship, My Best Fiend (also included), makes clear, he had to fight to control what he’d unleashed. Essential viewing.

Ninth-rate martial arts anim

Tran Anh Hung’s 1992 debut begins in 1951, as 10-year-old peasant girl Mui travels to Saigon to serve in a middle-class household. As she grows into a woman, we witness her daily domestic tasks, and the growing fractures in the family and society around her. A headily serene, hypnotically sensuous movie, observing reality in such close detail it becomes poetry, a song about work, life, and how the two run together.

Minor shocker (made for TV) from Wes Craven, starring Linda Blair as a schoolgirl whose boyfriend and family get taken over by her evil cousin, a backwoods witch. Only Blair’s horse and friendly supernatural expert Macdonald Carey can tell the possessed from normal people. Also known as Stranger In Our House, and for Blair and Craven completists only.

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.

Controversial in its day (1967), Joseph Strick’s bold stab at Joyce’s unfilmable novel was (echoing the book) banned in Ireland until as recently as 2001. This year will see the 100th anniversary of “Bloomsday”: as a warm-up, watch this intriguing, prescient art movie, vividly stalking Bloom and Dedalus around Dublin, then committing the last half hour to Molly (Barbara Jefford) and her lusty soliloquy.

From the brief heyday of the Czech new wave, Jiri Menzel’s 1968 Oscar winner (Best Foreign Language Film) retains much bawdy charm and a bravely downbeat ending. A young railway station apprentice in a small town, oblivious to the climax of WWII, longs to get laid, finding relief with a comely Resistance fighter. More witty, imaginative and romantic than it sounds.

Quirky, intelligent kids movie about a young offenders’ prison camp where the inmates have to dig huge holes in the Texas desert each day, since the warden (Sigourney Weaver) is hoping to discover an outlaw’s missing gold. A great cast (John Voight, Henry Winkler, Eartha Kitt), and an utter delight.