Reviews

Dark, ambitious second album from fast-rising Derby producer

Hilarious US left-field comedian

Diverse, patchy covers album from Greg Dulli

Magnificently barmy indie-opera from NY's squabbling Friedbergers

Sophomore effort from Devon's teenage would-be-soul empress

Restoration-era luvvie-fest hits the right button

Stylish, hyperkinetic thriller set in Budapest

Takeshi "Beat" Kitano goes blond as well as blind to resurrect the long-running samurai avenger, and has more fun with it than original star Shintarö Katsu ever imagined. Outrageously bloody, it's a kind of syncopated slice-'n'-dice. Sure, Takeshi could have done it with his eyes closed—and does-but it's his most satisfying effort since Hana-bi.

Since 24, the world's somehow overlooked Steven Bochco's ice-breaking 23-part epic series (here on six discs), which traced the ricocheting ramifications of a Hollywood murder trial in obsessive detail, locking us into addictive characters with exquisite week-on-week suspense. Daniel Benzali is the snidey-but-good lawyer, Stanley Tucci the reptilian suspect millionaire. It still ensnares you. Good as it gets.

Jean Cocteau's 1949 reworking of the myth of Orpheus (Jean Marais) portrays him as a beat poet torn between his art, his wife (Marie Déa) and the love of Death (Maria Casares) herself. The effects are a miracle of low-budget ingenuity, the dream-like imagery unforgettable: mysterious motorcycling assassins, poetry from beyond the grave on the radio, and all mirrors lead to the Underworld. A masterpiece.