Don't let the cheesy title put you off, because Jammin' with the Blues Greats, essentially a roadshow headed up by John Mayall's Bluesbreakers, is quality stuff, managing to convey all the virtues of the music without sacrificing one ounce of the atmosphere of what must have been an extraordinary gig. It's pretty much impossible to identify any one contributor as outshining the others, given that there are as many takes on the music here as there are practitioners, but it's worth noting Mayall's ongoing commitment to the form as the Bluesbreakers deliver "An Eye for an Eye", "Room to Move" and several other tunes. Buddy Guy and Junior Wells get a couple of numbers ("Messin' with the Kid" is wonderful), BB King gets three and Etta James just one. However, despite everyone getting the opportunity to cut loose on the finale ("CC Rider Jam"), the whole circus is totally upstaged by the 83-year-old Sippie Wallace, who is gently led onstage, leans on the piano and sings "Shorty George" with the kind of conviction that makes everyone else look like upstarts.

On the DVD: Jammin' with the Blues Greats is presented in 4:3 aspect ratio and has only one extra feature, a John Mayall discography. --Roger Thomas

Salted pork shanks as leitmotiv in Jamón Jamón a dark comedy about an absurd love triangle: this is what post-Franco cine is all about (food and sex). Spanish tortillas (i.e., potato omelets) are also big in this one. Director José Juan Bigas Luna is intelligent, wry, and--despite the formulaic narrative that melodrama must essentially contain--unpredictable. At times his film exudes a certain Almodóvar flavour, but there is an edge, perhaps even heavy-handedness, to the dark humour that is either Luna's success or his downfall. The film garnered the Silver Lion at the Venice Film Festival, after all. Try to follow: sexy Penelope Cruz (Belle Epoque) is growing up with her mother outside town on the wrong side of the highway. Together they run a truck stop where cars and life literally race past. Cruz is in love with Jordí Molla, by whom she is pregnant, but Molla's bourgeois mother, played by Anna Galiena (Being Human), thinks he can and should do better (of course, neither Cruz nor his mother knows of the erotic, avian interludes Molla enjoys on the side.) To save her son from the lower classes, Galiena hires Javier Bardem, a muscular, pretty man (whose regular consumption of the pork he distributes for a living has enhanced his sexual appeal) to pursue Cruz. The dark comedy finds a proper ending to the triangle in a grotesque but comedic landscape of death. This is not a cookie-cutter movie but rather one that will resonate with both your light and dark sides. After each surprise, you'll chuckle, feel guilty, and chuckle again. --Erik Macki, Amazon.com

Janacek's masterpiece Jenufa, captured in this 1989 Glyndebourne Festival Opera production, is among the most revived modernist works. Compared with much grand opera, the story of one woman's struggle to rise free from social constraints at a terrible cost is remarkably poignant, credible and accessible. Scenes are short and intense. The music shimmers with Janacek's characteristic blend of sweetness and sharp dissonance. His men are damaged and angry; his women kick against the expectations of convention. Tragedy is inevitable, but here, unusually, hope triumphs. In the title role, Roberta Alexander is utterly convincing as the stepdaughter of the Kostelnicka Buryja, placing her love and trust in the wrong man with dire consequences. As the Kostelnicka, Anja Silja turns in an equally towering performance, unravelling with the awful consequences of her pragmatism. Alexander's fluid soprano reveals the extraordinary beauty of some of Janacek's finest arias: the moment when she becomes supernaturally aware of her baby's fate--it's "as if death was peering into the house!"--and is actually singing prayers for its soul is quite overwhelming. This Jenufa is sung splendidly; a revelation of the essential humanity which lurks at the heart of the greatest operas.

On the DVD: This production was filmed for Channel 4 and has all the hallmarks of a 1980s television broadcast: standard 4:3 picture format which limits the impact of Tobias Hoheisel's magnificent expressionistic set; PCM stereo which somewhat dulls Andrew Davis' sterling, powerful work at the helm of the London Philharmonic Orchestra (although the principal singers shine through); poor subtitles; and static freeze-frame links between scenes. As a record of an important production, though, it suffices. --Piers Ford

Kát'a Kabanová, Janácek's 1921 tragedy, is proof if any were needed that tales of personal oppression and turmoil will always make fine raw material for opera composers. Janácek took Ostrovsky's tumultuous drama of infidelity , The Storm, and created a compelling piece in which his music heightens the relationship between the troubled landscape of Kát'a's inner mind and the elements doing battle outside.

In 1988, this Glyndebourne Festival production successfully distilled the heroine's wretched journey from put-upon wife and daughter-in-law to suicide via the ecstasy of a forbidden love affair into 100 minutes of intensely emotional operatic drama. At its heart, Janácek's unique tonal score underlines a powerful, almost naturalistic dialogue and exposes the impact of Kát'a's experiences on her escalating self-destruction. Felicity Palmer's Kabanicha--the mother-in-law from hell and the real instrument of Kát'a's downfall--is curiously remote and muted rather than the domineering figure of fear that we might expect. But the singing, particularly by Nancy Gustafson (tremendously affecting and emotionally convincing in the title role) and Ryland Davies as Kát'a's weak husband Tichon, is outstanding. Gustafson's performance alone makes this essential viewing for anybody with a passion for the great modern soprano roles.

On the DVD: Sadly the only additional features are trailers for Seven Gates of Jersualem and The Damnation of Faust. The sound quality (PCM stereo) is more than fair, but inevitably the film of the production is constrained by the design: the stylised set is either very light or very dark and we don't get as close as we'd like to the characters in what is, after all, a disturbingly intimate piece. Arthaus Musik's booklet meets the expected high standards of information and background. --Piers Ford

With its overt love interest and focus on individual isolation, Katia Kabanova is the first of the four operas that crowned the productive last decade of Leos Janacek (1854-1928). The operatic idioms of Dvorak and Verdi are transmuted through his singular soundworld, whose vocal lines convey subtle speech inflexions and whose orchestral writing has a keen pathos and surging emotional intensity.

Christoph Marthaler's production for the 1998 Salzburg Festival updates the provincial Russia of the 1850s to that of the 1990s, a decaying tenement block whose inhabitants live out a futile existence. It neither enhances nor undermines the music, in which Angela Denoke's wan Katia gradually gains in conviction, culminating in a touching "mad scene" and ill-fated reconciliation with her lover Boris. David Kuebler is powerful in this role, while Jane Henschel is characterful but lightweight as Kabanicha (mother-in-law) and Hubert Delamboye sympathetic as Katia's put-upon husband Tichon. Sylvain Cambreling, an experienced opera conductor, directs the Czech Philharmonic skilfully and with flair.

On the DVD: Katia Kabanova arrives on disc with a 16:9 aspect ratio that captures the many oblique camera angles and perspective shifts; and sound in LPCM Stereo, Dolby 5.1 and DTS options. Subtitles are in five European languages, and there are 29 access points. There are no special features, apart from the regular TDK trailer, but the booklet has a useful, if generalised synopsis of the opera.--Richard Whitehouse