In the fourth and reportedly final film of the Lethal Weapon series, director Richard Donner reunites with Mel Gibson and Danny Glover, who reprise their roles as Martin Riggs and Roger Murtaugh for one last hurrah in a film that is decidedly better than the third and first chapters. This time the pair are pitted against Jet Li, who plays the leader of a Chinese organised crime unit. Li, a veteran of hundreds of Hong Kong action films, more than holds his own against the more established team of Gibson, Glover, Rene Russo and Joe Pesci with his subtle yet strong portrayal of the quietly irrepressible Wah Sing Ku. As always with the Lethal series, the plot is incredibly simple to follow: someone steals something, someone gets killed and Murtaugh is reluctantly thrown into the mix while Riggs dives into the case with gleeful aplomb. As with the previous movies, we watch for the sheer action and chemistry alone. The action sequences throughout the fourth instalment are exquisite, from the opening scene involving a flame-thrower, a burning building and a half-naked Murtaugh strutting like a chicken (don't ask, just watch), to the climactic showdown that pays genuine tribute to Jet Li's masterful martial art skills. As for chemistry, the bond between these characters is so strong by now that you sometimes feel like you're watching a TV series in its sixth season, such is the warm familiarity between the audience and the personalities on the screen. The humour is more fluid than ever, aided immeasurably by the casting of comedian Chris Rock, who like Li does a great job of making his presence known in some memorable verbal tirades that would bring a smile out of the Farrelly brothers. But it's the verbal and emotional jousting between Glover and Gibson that makes this fourth episode especially appealing; both are in peak form with great physical and verbal timing. One can only hope that if this is indeed the last of the Lethal films, that it won't be the last time we see Glover and Gibson together on screen. —Jeremy Storey

The joined-at-the-hip team of director Richard Donner and star Mel Gibson (all the Lethal Weapon movies and Conspiracy Theory) had obvious fun resurrecting the Wild Western comedy television series about a roguish rambler-gambler. In Maverick, Gibson assumes the role of cardsharp Bret Maverick, equally quick with a pair of aces and a pair of guns. Good sport James Garner (who played Maverick on TV) takes another role, as a lawman who travels alongside the hero to a big-money poker game on a riverboat. The real peach in this fruit salad of satire and broad jokes, however, is Jodie Foster, who plays a crafty Southern belle quite adept at poker herself. Sexy, funny, and (from the onscreen evidence) a great kisser, Foster has never been more of a delight. Written by William Goldman (Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid). —Tom Keogh

A self-consciously epic sci-fi adventure of Cecil B DeMille-sized proportions, Stargate refreshes and combines several well-worn sci-fi and sword 'n' sandal genre conventions with some Erich von Daniken-style Biblical Egyptology. The directing-writing-producing team of Roland Emmerich and Dean Devlin had previously collaborated on B-movies Moon 44 (1990) and Universal Soldier (1992), but handed a significantly bigger budget they were able to give their Steven Spielberg pretensions free reign here ("Indiana Jones and his Close Encounters with the Chariots of the Gods" might be a suitable subtitle). James Spader is endearingly dithery as the fish-out-of-water academic who finds himself teamed with taciturn tough guy Kurt Russell: the two excellent leads are largely responsible for imparting what depth there is to otherwise two-dimensional characters. British composer David Arnold makes his major studio debut in the grandest fashion with an outstanding score that pays suitable homage to epic film music (John Williams' CE3K and Maurice Jarre's Lawrence of Arabia in particular). It's all done with such unabashed enthusiasm that viewers will happily forgive the film's derivative elements and even overlook the high-camp theatricality of Jaye Davidson's bizarre bad guy. Despite subsequent huge box-office hits (Independence Day, Godzilla, The Patriot), Stargate remains Emmerich and Devlin's freshest, most satisfying film.

On the DVD: This special edition version adds approximately seven minutes of additional footage, much of which is in the form of slightly extended scenes, but does also include an opening sequence in Ancient Egypt, a scene with Kurt Russell and the fossilised Horus guards, and Ra's bath scene. These are also collected in a bonus "Promo Reel". The anamorphic widescreen presentation of the 2.35:1 Panavision picture looks sharp and clear, although some of the additional footage is degraded; the sound is suitably spectacular 5.1 or DTS. Devlin and Emmerich provide a relaxed, chatty commentary ("We have nothing to do with the TV series"!), although you have to access this from the Set Up menu not the Special Features menu. There's a photo gallery and trailer, but sadly no "making-of" documentary. —Mark Walker

You know you're going to get a different kind of superhero when you cast Robert Downey Jr. in the lead role. And Iron Man is different, in welcome ways. Cleverly updated from Marvel Comics' longstanding series, Iron Man puts billionaire industrialist Tony Stark (that's Downey) in the path of some Middle Eastern terrorists; in a brilliantly paced section, Stark invents an indestructible suit that allows him to escape. If the rest of the movie never quite hits that precise rhythm again, it nevertheless offers plenty of pleasure, as the renewed Stark swears off his past as a weapons manufacturer, develops his new Iron Man suit, and puzzles both his business partner (Jeff Bridges in great form) and executive assistant (Gwyneth Paltrow). Director Jon Favreau geeks out in fun ways with the hardware, but never lets it overpower the movie, and there's always a goofy one-liner or a slapstick pratfall around to break the tension. As for Downey, he doesn't get to jitterbug around too much in his improv way, but he brings enough of his unpredictable personality to keep the thing fresh. And listen up, hardcore Marvel mavens: even if you know the Stan Lee cameo is coming, you won't be able to guess it until it's on the screen. It all builds to a splendid final scene, with a concluding line delivery by Downey that just feels absolutely right. —Robert Horton

All films require a certain suspension of disbelief, Fight Club perhaps more than others; but if you're willing to let yourself get caught up in the anarchy, this film, based on the novel by Chuck Palahniuk, is a modern-day morality play warning of the decay of society. Edward Norton is the unnamed protagonist, a man going through life on cruise control, feeling nothing. To fill his hours, he begins attending support groups and 12-step meetings. True, he isn't actually afflicted with the problems, but he finds solace in the groups. This is destroyed, however, when he meets Marla (Helena Bonham Carter), also faking her way through groups. Spiralling back into insomnia, Norton finds his life is changed once again, by a chance encounter with Tyler Durden (Brad Pitt), whose forthright style and no-nonsense way of taking what he wants appeal to our narrator. Tyler and the protagonist find a new way to feel release: they fight. They fight each other, and then as others are attracted to their ways, they fight the men who come to join their newly formed Fight Club. Marla begins a destructive affair with Tyler, and things fly out of control, as Fight Club is transformed into a nationwide fascist group.

The depiction of violence in Fight Club is unflinching, but director David Fincher's film is captivating and beautifully shot, with camerawork and effects that are almost as startling as the script. The movie is packed with provocative ideas and images—from the satirical look at the emptiness of modern consumerism to quasi-Nietzschean concepts of "beyond good and evil"—that will leave the viewer with much food for thought to take away. Pitt and Norton are an unbeatable duo, and the film has a great sense of humour too. Even if it leaves you with a sense of profound discomfort this is a movie that you'll have to see again and again, if for no other reason than to just to take it all in. —Jenny Brown, Amazon.com

Gone with the Wind is a sprawling mosaic of a picture, one of the best-loved and most successful in movie history, but also one of the most frustrating. Wonderfully epic in scope, the decline and fall of the antebellum South as seen through the eyes of feisty, independent and wilful heroine Scarlett O'Hara makes the first half of the picture an absolutely riveting spectacle. From the aristocratic old world of Tara to the horrors of Atlanta under siege, Gone with the Wind features any number of indelible scenes and images: the genteel girls taking an enforced siesta during the Twelve Oaks barbecue, a horrified Scarlett walking through the wounded, the flight from burning Atlanta, and Scarlett's moving pledge against a burnished sunset set to Max Steiner's glorious music score. But the second half shifts gear, the melodramatic quotient is upped yet further as tragedy piles upon tragedy, and despite its unwieldy length everything feels rushed. Add to that the central problem that the audience never really understands, why Scarlett could ever fall for weak-chinned Ashley in the first place, and the picture begins to unravel unsatisfactorily. Behind the scenes problems doubtless contributed, with directors coming and going, Vivien Leigh and Clark Gable apparently barely able to stand the sight of each other, and producer David O Selznick's endless rewrites and interference. Nonetheless, this 1939 box-office smash remains one of Hollywood's finest achievements, an irresistible spectacle chock-full of the finest stars in the filmic firmament striking sparks off one another. They really don't make 'em like this anymore.

On the DVD: No extra features on this DVD, which is a pity given the amount of material that must be available, but it has to be admitted this disc is worth the asking price simply to drink in the astonishing quality of the picture, sumptuously presented in its original 1.33:1 "Academy" ratio. The mono sound is vivid, too, showcasing Max Steiner's headily romantic score. —Mark Walker

Blarney and bliss, mixed in equal proportions. John Wayne plays an American boxer who returns to the Emerald Isle, his native land. What he finds there is a fiery prospective spouse (Maureen O'Hara) and a country greener than any Ireland seen before or since—it—it's no surprise The Quiet Man won an Oscar for cinematography. It also won an Oscar for John Ford's direction, his fourth such award. The film was a deeply personal project for Ford (whose birth name was Sean Aloysius O'Fearna), and he lavished all of his affection for the Irish landscape and Irish people on this film. He also stages perhaps the greatest donnybrook in the history of movies, an epic fistfight between Wayne and the truculent Victor McLaglen—that—that's Ford's brother, Francis, as the elderly man on his deathbed who miraculously revives when he hears word of the dustup. Barry Fitzgerald, the original Irish elf, gets the movie's biggest laugh when he walks into the newlyweds' bedroom the morning after their wedding, and spots a broken bed. The look on his face says everything. The Quiet Man isn't the real Ireland, but as a delicious never-never land of Ford's imagination, it will do very nicely. —Robert Horton

Even-numbered Star Trek movies tend to be better, and this one (number eight in the popular series) is no exception—an intelligently handled plot involving the galaxy-conquering Borg and their attempt to invade Earth's past, alter history, and "assimilate" the entire human race. Time travel, a dazzling new Enterprise, and capable direction by Next Generation alumnus Jonathan Frakes makes this one rank with the best of the bunch. Capt. Picard (Patrick Stewart) and his able crew travel back in time to Earth in the year 2063, where they hope to ensure that the inventor of warp drive (played by James Cromwell) will successfully carry out his pioneering warp-drive flight and precipitate Earth's "first contact" with an alien race. A seductive Borg queen (Alice Krige) holds Lt. Data (Brent Spiner) hostage in an effort to sabotage the Federation's preservation of history, and the captive android finds himself tempted by the queen's tantalising sins of the flesh. Sharply conceived to fit snugly into the burgeoning Star Trek chronology, First Contact leads to a surprise revelation that marks an important historical chapter in the ongoing mission "to boldly go where no one has gone before". —Jeff Shannon

Transplanted from England to the not-so-mean streets of Chicago, the screen adaptation of Nick Hornby's cult-classic novel High Fidelity emerges unscathed from its Americanisation, idiosyncrasies intact, thanks to John Cusack's inimitable charm and a nimble, nifty screenplay (co-written by Cusack). Early-thirtysomething Rob Gordon (Cusack) is a slacker who owns a vintage record shop, a massive collection of LPs, and innumerable top-five lists in his head. At the opening of the film, Rob recounts directly to the audience his all-time top-five breakups— which doesn't include his recent falling out with his girlfriend Laura (Iben Hjejle), who has just moved out of their apartment. Thunderstruck and obsessed with Laura's desertion (but loath to admit it), Rob begins a quest to confront the women who instigated the aforementioned top-five breakups to find out just what he did wrong.

Low on plot and high on self-discovery, High Fidelity takes a good 30 minutes or so to find its groove (not unlike Cusack's Grosse Pointe Blank), but once it does, it settles into it comfortably and builds a surprisingly touching momentum. Rob is basically a grown-up version of Cusack's character in Say Anything (who was told "Don't be a guy—be a man!"), and if you like Cusack's brand of smart-alecky romanticism, you'll automatically be won over (if you can handle Cusack's almost non-stop talking to the camera). Still, it's hard not to be moved by Rob's plight. At the beginning of the film he and his coworkers at the record store (played hilariously by Jack Black and Todd Louiso) seem like overgrown boys in their secret clubhouse; by the end, they've grown up considerably, with a clear-eyed view of life. Ably directed by Stephen Frears (Dangerous Liaisons), High Fidelity features a notable supporting cast of the women in Rob's life, including the striking, Danish-born Hjejle, Lisa Bonet as a sultry singer/songwriter, and the triumphant triumvirate of Lili Taylor, Joelle Carter, and Catherine Zeta Jones as Rob's ex-girlfriends. With brief cameos by Tim Robbins as Laura's new, New Age boyfriend and Bruce Springsteen as himself. —Mark Englehart, Amazon.com

Set in the year 3000, Futurama is the acme of sci-fi animated sitcom from Simpsons creator Matt Groening. While not as universally popular as The Simpsons, Futurama is equally hip and hilarious, thanks to its zippy lateral-thinking contemporary pop cultural references, celebrity appearances (Pamela Anderson and Leonard Nimoy are among a number of guest stars to appear as disembodied heads in jars) and Bender, a distinctly Homer Simpson-esque robot. Part of Futurama's charm is that with decades of sci-fi junk behind us we've effectively been living with the distant future for years and can now have fun with it. Hence, the series stylishly jumbles motifs ranging from Lost in Space-style kitsch to the grim dystopia of Blade Runner. It also bridges the gap between the impossible dreams of your average science fiction fan and the slobbish reality of their comic reading, TV-gawping existence. Groening himself distinguishes his two series thus: "The Simpsons is fictional. Futurama is real."

The opening series (premiered in 1999) sees nerdy pizza delivery boy Fry transferred to the 31st century in a cryogenic mishap. There, he meets the beautiful, one-eyed Leela (voiced by Married with Children's Katey Sagal) and the incorrigible alcoholic robot Bender. The three of them join Fry's great (x30) nephew Professor Farmsworth and work in his intergalactic delivery service. Hyper-real yet strangely recognisable situations ensue—Fry discovers he is a billionaire thanks to 1,000 years accrued interest, Leela must fend off the attentions of Captain Kirk-like Lothario Zapp Brannigan, and Fry accidentally drinks the ruler of a strange planet of liquid beings. —David Stubbs

On the DVD: As with the earlier Fox release of The Simpsons, Season 1 this otherwise excellent three-disc set is let down by clunky menu navigation. There are way too many copyright warnings, no "Play All" facility, and you have to click back and forth to begin each new episode or find the additional features. By way of compensation, the menus look great and there's a goodly selection of extras on each disc. The entertaining commentaries are by Matt Groening and various members of his creative team, including producer David X Cohen and John DiMaggio (the voice of Bender) and Billy West (Fry). There are a handful of deleted scenes for certain episodes, plus the script and storyboard for the very first episode and an interactive stills gallery. The 4:3 picture is pin-sharp as is the Dolby 2.0Surround.—Mark Walker

Matt Groening's second series of the 31st century sci-fi sitcom Futurama maintained the high scripting standards of the first as well bringing improved digital animation. Couch potato Fry now seems thoroughly reconciled to his new existence, transported 10 centuries hence to "New New York" and working for Professor Farnsworth's delivery service. He's surrounded by a cast of freaks, including the bitchily cute Amy (with whom he has a romantic brush) and Hermes, the West Indian bureaucrat. Most sympathetic is the one-eyed Leela (voiced by Katey Sagal). Like Lisa Simpson, she is brilliant but unappreciated; she finds solace in her pet Nibbler, a tiny creature with a voracious, carnivorous appetite. By contrast, Bender, the robot, is programmed with every human vice, a sort of metal Homer Simpson with a malevolent streak.

In one of the best episodes, Bender is given a "feelings" chip in order to empathise with Leela after he flushes Nibbler down the toilet. Elsewhere, Fry falls in love with a Mermaid when the team discover the lost city of Atlanta, Fry and Bender end up going to war after they join the army to get a discount on gum, and John Goodman guest stars as Santa Claus, an eight-foot gun-toting robot. Brimful with blink-and-you'll-miss-them hip jokes (such as the sign for the Taco Bellevue hospital) and political and pop satire, Futurama isn't a stern warning of things to come but rather, as the programme-makers put it, "a brilliant, hilarious reflection of our own materially (ridiculously) over-developed but morally under-developed society."

On the DVD: Futurama's four-disc package presents the show in 4:3 with a Dolby Digital soundtrack. Among the many extras here are audio commentaries, storyboards, trailers, mock ads for "Soylent Chow" and "Human Rinds" and deleted scenes, including one from "Bender Gets Made" in which he seeks to evade the Robot Mafia by changing his identity. —David Stubbs

No more good news everybody—this fourth series of Futurama is the show's last. By turns frenetic and far-sighted, Matt Groening's futuristic comedy provided belly-laughs for self-confessed SF nerds, but somehow failed to connect with a broader audience, even though it was often funnier and sharper than stablemate The Simpsons. So now bid farewell to the Planet Express team—Fry, Leela, Zoidberg, Bender, Amy, Hermes, Prof Farnsworth—as well as to kindly Kif, cloned Cubert, megalomaniac Mom, mutants in the sewer, the cast of robo-sitcom All My Circuits, swashbuckling space lothario and William Shatner wannabe Zapp Brannigan, Elzar the four-armed chef, and all the other characters that made Futurama such a unique experience.

This fourth and final year has all the elements that fans enjoyed so much—but also those elements that partially explain its cancellation. Recurring characters are great if you've watched the show before, as are the in-jokes; and the many parodies of classic science fiction are fine for the initiated, but risk leaving other viewers out in the cold. The show's strengths and perceived weaknesses are exemplified in the episode "Where No Fan Has Gone Before", in which the original cast of Star Trek play themselves: hilarious for Trekkers, but not really for anyone else. Elsewhere we find Leela discovering her real parents aren't aliens at all but in fact live in the sewers; Kif getting pregnant; Fry discovering the fossilised remains of his faithful pet dog; and Bender being converted to steam power. Despite some ups and downs, it's still the funniest animated show on TV. Those responsible for cancelling it can bite my shiny metal …

On the DVD: Futurama, Series 4 DVD box set includes a "Play All" function on each disc. Multifarious extras include cast and crew commentaries, deleted scenes, animatics, galleries and Easter eggs. —Mark Walker