Amusing tale of a world where bureaucracy has gone mad, and all Ministry lackey Sam Lowry can do is fantasise about his ideal woman. Until, that is, he meets renegade freedom fighter and heating engineer Harry Tuttle..

If Franz Kafka had been an animator and film director--oh, and a member of Monty Python's Flying Circus--Brazil is the sort of outrageously dystopian satire one could easily imagine him making. In fact it was made by Terry Gilliam, who is all of the above except, of course, Franz Kafka. Be that as it may, Gilliam captures the paranoid-subversive spirit of Kafka's The Trial (along with his own Python animation) in this bureaucratic nightmare-comedy about a meek government clerk named Sam Lowry (Jonathan Pryce) whose life is destroyed by a simple bug. It's not a software bug but a real bug (no doubt related to Kafka's famous Metamorphosis insect) that gets squashed in a printer and causes a typographical error unjustly identifying an innocent citizen, one Mr Buttle, as suspected terrorist Harry Tuttle (Robert De Niro). When Sam becomes enmeshed in unravelling this bureaucratic tangle, he himself winds up labelled as a miscreant. The movie presents such an unrelentingly imaginative and savage vision of 20th-century bureaucracy that it almost became a victim of small-minded studio management itself--until Gilliam surreptitiously screened his cut for the Los Angeles Film Critics Association, who named it the best movie of 1985 and virtually embarrassed Universal into releasing it. --Jim Emerson

On the DVD: Brazil comes to DVD in a welcome anamorphic print of the full director's cut--here running some 136 minutes. Disappointingly the only extra feature is the 30-minute making-of documentary "What Is Brazil?", which consists of on-set and behind-the-scenes interviews. There's nothing about the film's controversial release history (covered so comprehensively on the North American Criterion Collection release), nor is Gilliam's illuminating, irreverent directorial commentary anywhere to be found. The only other extra here is the ubiquitous theatrical trailer. A welcome release of a real classic, then, but something of a missed opportunity. --Mark Walker

A fine piece of polemical cinema, Ken Loach's Bread and Roses tells the story of the successful "Justice for Janitors" campaign, which helped establish improved pay and working conditions for the largely Latin American unskilled workforce in Los Angeles. Pilar Padilla plays Maya, who, following a traumatic crossing of the Mexican border, manages to find her older sister Rosa and eventually find work as a janitor. There, she runs into labour organiser Sam (Adrien Brody) when he evades security guards in a comical, Keystone cop-chase through an office building. He persuades her to join his campaign and a tentative romance blossoms.

Bread and Roses is a "Hollywood" movie with a difference, filmed in and around corporate LA but homing in on the lives of the ignored army of grotesquely underpaid, often illegal immigrants who give the area its sheen. At times, the semi-documentary footage of meetings and demos slackens the dramatic pace and it's interesting that the film's strongest scene is when the sceptical Rosa cuts through her sister's pro-union spiel with a devastating speech about the realities of her own life (she had to work as a prostitute). While this an imperfect movie, its political point hits home hard. Brody as Sam in particular brings a streak of fun to the movie.

On the DVD: Scene selection, language options and the original trailer are included but the best bonus is a 50-minute documentary about the making of the film, focussing on the life of one of the extras, Rosa, herself a janitors' rights campaigner. While not centre stage in the film, Rosa brings a great energy and authenticity to the set. She refers to Roach affectionately as a "little old man", dreams of shoving a vacuum hose up her bosses' asses and is flown home to El Salvador to give her estranged grandchildren trainers and a telling off. Excellent.--David Stubbs