DVD, Blu-ray and TV

Po-faced but spectacular Biblical epic starring Yul Brynner (with hair) as the legendarily wise king who risks losing the throne of Israel by making whoopee with the saucy-but-pagan queen of Sheba (Gina Lollobrigida). George Sanders plays the villain (hurrah), the cast-of-thousands battle scenes are impressive and the unintentionally hilarious 'orgy' is an absolute must-see.

Another random trawl through the Whistle Test archives proves perhaps just too random—it's unlikely fans of Half Man Half Biscuit (their 1986 TV debut) or The Jam ('78's "'A' Bomb...") will be tempted by strange bedfellows like Supertramp and Chris Rea. So something for everyone but far too diverse a range to fully satisfy any camp.

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.

Another brave taboo-buster from Joseph Strick, tackling Jean Genet's play in 1964 with the kind of cast that has you pinching yourself: Shelley Winters, Peter Falk and a youthful Leonard Nimoy. In a brothel that's a hideaway from the war outside, Winters is a fearsome madam and Nimoy's a rebel leader. Surreal and grubbily saucy, though the low budget shows its cracks at times.

It's too much to digest in one sitting—three discs, seven hours and almost 100 songs, released in commemoration of the 25th anniversary of Jacques Brel's death. But it's fascinating to watch him turn so rapidly from the hesitant, gauche performer of the late-'50s into the charismatic equivalent of a Gallic Sinatra.

Sardonic slam-bam action romp with brains

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.

Intensely felt melodrama collides with saccharine world view in this tale of an Irish immigrant family who attempt to begin life anew in an '80s Manhattan filled with friendly junkies and hackneyed racial stereotypes (see Djimon Hounsou's savage-but-wise African artist). Top performances from Paddy Considine and Samantha Morton are undercut by director Jim Sheridan's squishy screenplay.

Andre 3000 and Big Boi's early clips are superior but fairly routine 'hood dramas, all booty calls and gaudy pimpmobiles. But around their ATLiens album, the day-glo psychedelic X Files wig-outs begin creeping in, reaching a peak in the sexofunkatronic freakerama of "Bombs Over Baghdad". Also lushly cinematic is the stormy Deep South pastoral of "Ms Jackson" and, of course, the multiple Andres of last year's super-catchy retro-futurist soul fantasia "Hey Ya". Pure pop genius.

When discussing Kevin Smith's oeuvre, most dismiss this '95 nugget as the dip between Clerks and Dogma. A mistake: as two slackers, Jason Lee and Jeremy London, hang around the mall doing nothing, plenty happens—comic-book iconography, smut, inventive swearing, Shannen Doherty pretty much playing her loveable hell-bitch self, and Ben Affleck marginalised. A buzzy, cynical, romp.