La Belle et La Bete is one of the all-time great movie fantasies, and one of the most gorgeous pictures ever made. It was the first feature film by French director Jean Cocteau, a writer, poet and painter with ties to the surrealists. (In fact, his first film, The Blood of a Poet, was delayed after the scandal caused by L'Age D'Or, made by his fellow surrealists Luis Buñuel and Salvador Dali.) The haunting, surreal visuals (candelabra made of human hands, for example) and a sensitive performance by Jean Marais as the Beast imbue the film with an indelible, mythical power. --Jim Emerson, Amazon.com

In the French farce La Cage aux Folles, Ugo Tognazzi and Michel Serrault star as Renato and Albin, a middle-aged gay couple and co-owners of a nightclub, the titular Cage aux Folles, where hysterically effeminate Albin stars as drag act Zaza. The long-suffering Renato once briefly enjoyed a heterosexual relationship and has a 20-year-old son, Laurent. When the latter turns up one day and announces he is to marry the daughter of one M Charrier, deputy leader of the Moral Order party, Renato is initially appalled. However, he comes round and reluctantly agrees to a meeting with the girl's parents, in which he will pose as a high-ranking diplomat, rid the apartment of all its queenly trappings and try to persuade Albin to lie low. The final 20 minutes of the movie, in which this charade of austerity and propriety falls entirely to pieces are among the most aisle-rollingly uproarious ever committed to celluloid.

It was remade by Hollywood as The Birdcage, but this original is far funnier. Although perhaps a little dated and stereotypical in its depiction of gay life there is real sympathy for, and affection conveyed between, Renato and Albin. The scenes with the Charrier family, who, it turns out, have problems of their own, cut an utterly gloomy bourgeois contrast with the screaming flamboyance of the nightclub scenes. The Charrier's unscrupulous chauffeur is one of the film's many treasures, his final "Combien?" provoking the film's crowning guffaw. All this iced with a delicious soundtrack from Ennio Morricone which wafts with the nostalgic scent of late-1970s South of France.

On the DVD: La Cage aux Folles is unfortunately presented in a not terribly good 1:66:1 transfer: much of the crackle and faded colours of the original remain, while the soundtrack is fuzzy in places. The only extra is the original trailer. --David Stubbs