DVD, Blu-ray and TV

Seamus McGarvey is proving himself to be the UK's finest director of photography, and this visual poem owes its beauty to his eye. A fable following a man as he looks back over his life, from rural Ireland to modern London, it's like Cronenberg's Spider with the imagination turned up to 11.

Johnny Depp excels in highly entertaining Bruckheimer blockbuster

The Boss lives up to his name on live concert film

High plains drifter is Clint Eastwood, the nascent director, at his most elemental. He's post-Leone and pre-Josey Wales here, working from a script by Ernest Shaft Tidyman, playing a "squinty-eyed son of a bitch"who saves a small town in the Old West from a sadistic group of escaped convicts. It's a harsh, frequently brutal amorality play. The credits have barely rolled before we're treated to callous multiple murders and a 'consenting rape'scene.

Australian comedy starring Billy Connolly as fisherman Steve Myers, whose boat is destroyed by a lightning bolt. When the insurance company refuses to pay up, claiming the incident was an "act of God", Myers decides to take God to court and sue Him for damages. Judi Davis plays a local reporter who champions Myers' case (and wins his heart). No surprises here, but it's amiable enough.

Also released this month... Shining like a beacon in the depressing pre-Christmas landscape of mouldy old video collections and dodgy concert films is Jane's Addiction's Three Days SANCTUARY Filmed by Carter Smith and Kevin Ford on the band's 1997 Relapse tour, it's a fully-realised piece of rock cinema that dramatically transcends the limitations of your average tour documentary.

Matthew Barney's extraordinary Cremaster Cycle has won outrageous accolades: "greatest living artist", "best fusion of art and cinema since Buñuel", etc. This is the climactic 31-minute scene of that epic, and it's every bit as wildly mind-boggling as you'd hope. Barney scales the Guggenheim Museum-staircase, assaulted by molten Vaseline, tapdancing girls, metal bands and a cheetah. The perfect intro to a warped genius.

All four movies from the interstellar belly-bursting-baddie franchise in extended form, plus five discs of extras

John Cassavetes' last movie looks like 'one for the studio' compared to the ragged glories of his greatest independent films; in fact, Cassavetes claimed he was the film's director in name only. Though bland, it's still a bizarrely watchable spoof thriller, riffing on Double Indemnity, with Alan Arkin as the harassed insurance man who becomes involved in a scheme to bump off Beverly D'Angelo's husband, Cassavetes regular Peter Falk, so he can then afford to send his a cappella-singing musical prodigy triplets to university. Nuts, lightly salted.

In 1999, Beavis & Butthead creator Mike Judge made his first foray into live action with this good-natured satire on the mind-numbing life of the white-collar worker. Ron Livingstone is the drone desperate to escape his corporate existence, whose attempts to get sacked leave a team of troubleshooters convinced he's management material. Jennifer Aniston co-stars. Over-looked, but often screamingly funny.