The controversy that surrounded Stanley Kubrick's adaptation of Anthony Burgess's dystopian novel A Clockwork Orange while the film was out of circulation suggested that it was like Romper Stomper: a glamorisation of the violent, virile lifestyle of its teenage protagonist, with a hypocritical gloss of condemnation to mask delight in rape and ultra-violence. Actually, it is as fable-like and abstract as The Pilgrim's Progress, with characters deliberately played as goonish sitcom creations. The anarchic rampage of Alex (Malcolm McDowell), a bowler-hatted juvenile delinquent of the future, is all over at the end of the first act. Apprehended by equally brutal authorities, he changes from defiant thug to cringing bootlicker, volunteering for a behaviourist experiment that removes his capacity to do evil.

It's all stylised: from Burgess' invented pidgin Russian (snarled unforgettably by McDowell) to 2001-style slow tracks through sculpturally perfect sets (as with many Kubrick movies, the story could be told through decor alone) and exaggerated, grotesque performances on a par with those of Dr Strangelove (especially from Patrick Magee and Aubrey Morris). Made in 1971, based on a novel from 1962, A Clockwork Orange resonates across the years. Its future is now quaint, with Magee pecking out "subversive literature" on a giant IBM typewriter and "lovely, lovely Ludwig Van" on mini-cassette tapes. However, the world of "Municipal Flat Block 18A, Linear North" is very much with us: a housing estate where classical murals are obscenely vandalised, passers-by are rare and yobs loll about with nothing better to do than hurt people.

On the DVD: The extras are skimpy, with just an impressionist trailer in the style of the film used to brainwash Alex and a list of awards for which Clockwork Orange was nominated and awarded. The box promises soundtracks in English, French and Italian and subtitles in ten languages, but the disc just has two English soundtracks (mono and Dolby Surround 5.1) and two sets of English subtitles. The terrific-looking "digitally restored and remastered" print is letterboxed at 1.66:1 and on a widescreen TV plays best at 14:9. The film looks as good as it ever has, with rich stable colours (especially and appropriately the orangey-red of the credits and the blood) and a clarity that highlights previously unnoticed details such as Alex's gouged eyeball cufflinks and enables you to read the newspaper articles which flash by. The 5.1 soundtrack option is amazingly rich, benefiting the nuances of performance as much as the classical/electronic music score and the subtly unsettling sound effects. --Kim Newman

Offenbach composed over 100 operettas, and yet is primarily remembered now only for The Tales of Hoffman and for having written the "Can-Can". This live Concert of Music by Offenbach aims to put the record straight and show that at least some of his other works deserve the chance to be staged. Fortunately the composer has found almost ideal advocates in conductor Marc Minkowski and mezzo Anne Sofie von Otter. The latter takes a respectful but unstuffy approach to the scores (the orchestral numbers Souvenirs d'Aix-les-Bains and the Barbe Bleue Ouverture are played with exquisite attention to detail, especially in some sighing woodwind solos) and von Otter shows that she is as great a comedienne as she is a singer. From the blowsy Grande Duchesse de Gerolstein declaring her love for soldiers in tight uniforms to the outrageous yodelling of the Colonel's Widow from La Vie Parisienne, she hits just the right note of inspired lunacy and frothiness. And there are some delicious costume changes too, including a grotesque bumpkin hat that's almost as big as the mezzo herself ("Duo des Alsaciens"). There's even more unintentional comedy in the English subtitles, which must be among the worst ever produced: "myself every night what I do coming here to seat" is one solipsistic oddity. Oliver Becker directs well for the small screen, capturing the fizz of a lively event.

On the DVD: A Concert of Music by Offenbach is presented in 4:3 ratio, with LPCM Stereo, AC3 Digital 5.1 and DTS 5.1 sound options. The picture quality is fine, although the foreground and background of the stage seem to be presented in one rather flat surface. There are subtitles in English, German, French, Spanish and Italian. --Warwick Thompson

The continuing popularity of horror spoofs has created an opportunity for low-quality slashers such as A Crack In the Floor to pass themselves off as humorous. The story follows axe-wielding psychotic hermit Jeremiah who meets a bunch of fresh-faced young hikers and the movie employs every trick in the genre's book but still fails to rise itself above cheap exploitation (best indicated by the tasteless rape of Jeremiah's mother that prefaces the action). Brazenly claiming to feature Tracy Scoggins and Gary Busey--who in reality appear for about five minutes each--the film features young unknowns, the most high profile being Saved By the Bell's Mario Lopez. Which is fitting really because the film, with its mix of teen enthusiasm, redneck stereotypes and crass violence, is little more than that show meets The Dukes of Hazzard meets Deliverance meets Friday the 13th. Recommended for connoisseurs of everything gory and tacky but no-one else.

On the DVD: The DVD manages to keep the quality set so spectacularly by the film itself--featuring an appalling trailer, a reprint of the information on the disc's box, biographies of the handful of established actors who make the briefest of cameos and trailers for some equally naff TV movies. Not what DVD was invented for. --Phil Udell

The story of a mother whose child was killed in an animal attack, only to have herself accused of the infant's murder