This "special edition" contains the 25-minute featurette Into the Breach. Besides interviews with the film's actors, there are interviews with D-day veterans and World War II historian Stephen Ambrose. Real D-day footage is edited together with scenes from the film that have been changed to black and white. The highlight is a glimpse of Steven Spielberg's early films. Using his dad's camera and his friends, the teenage Spielberg made two relatively impressive short war films, Escape to Nowhere and Fighter Squad. There are also home movies his dad made while stationed in the Pacific and a short visit with the Nilands, a family that lost four brothers during the war. —Doug Thomas

Tom Stoppard's modern stage classic finds a pair of film actors worthy of its verbal japery and existential bewilderment: Gary Oldman and Tim Roth are deliciously locked in as the title characters of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead. And yet it remains difficult to tell which one is Rosencrantz and which Guildenstern—even they seem unsure—a clever part of Stoppard's ingenious design. Focusing on a pair of unremarkable characters from Hamlet, Stoppard sees the great play from their confused perspective. Now and again the action of Hamlet sweeps them up, but most of the time R&G are left wondering where they are, what they have been sent for, and why they can't remember anything that happened before the beginning of the play. Richard Dreyfuss (fittingly grandiloquent) is the Player King, who seems to know more about the ominous workings of fiction and tragedy than the heroes do. Stoppard's first outing as a film director is handsomely shot but uncertainly paced—although any time Oldman and Roth go into one of their tennis-match debates on probability, identity, or death, the movie crackles. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern may be the "indifferent children of the earth," but for this brief moment they deserve center stage. —Robert Horton

If a musical sci-fi satire about an alien transvestite named Frank-n-Furter, who is building the perfect man while playing sexual games with his virginal visitors, sounds like an intriguing premise for a movie, then you're in for a treat. Not only is The Rocky Horror Picture Show all this and more, but it stars the surprising cast of Susan Sarandon and Barry Bostwick (as the demure Janet and uptight Brad, who get lost in a storm and find themselves stranded at Frank-n-Furter's mansion), Meat Loaf (as the rebel Eddie), Charles Gray (as our criminologist and narrator) and, of course, the inimitable Tim Curry as our "sweet transvestite from Transsexual, Transylvania".

Upon its release in 1975, the film was an astounding flop. But a few devotees persuaded a New York cinema to show it at midnight, and thus was born one of the ultimate cult films of all time. The songs are addictive (just try getting "The Time Warp" or "Toucha Toucha Touch Me" out of your head), the raunchiness amusing and the plot line utterly ridiculous—in other words, this film is simply tremendous good fun. The downfall, however, is that much of the amusement is found in the audience participation that is obviously missing from a video version (viewers in cinemas shout lines at the screen and use props—such as holding up newspapers and shooting water guns during the storm and throwing rice during a wedding scene). Watched alone as a straight movie, Rocky Horror loses a tremendous amount of its charm. Yet, for those who wish to perfect their lip-synching techniques for movie cinema performances or for those who want to gather a crowd around the TV at home for some good, old-fashioned, rowdy fun, this film can't be beat. —Jenny Brown

Né de la rencontre entre Claude Zidi et un jeune scénariste inconnu, ex-flic épris de littérature, Simon Mickael, Les Ripoux allait être un immense succès public, mais aussi, pour son réalisateur, un premier succès critique. Le film raconte l’histoire d’amitié entre un vieux flic "vieux de la vieille" combinard, René (Noiret) et François (Lhermitte), ambitieux, idéaliste et fraîchement sorti de son école de police. L’aîné entraînera, évidemment, le "bleu" dans la mauvaise pente. Dans Ripoux contre ripoux les mêmes affreux, toujours à la pointe des magouilles tombent sur plus coriaces qu’eux, au risque de se faire virer de la police nationale ! À l’occasion de la sortie des Ripoux 3, ce coffret est l’occasion rêvée de retrouver les sympathiques personnages campés par Philippe Noiret et Thierry Lhermitte. —George Maubeuge

While many ugly Americans best remember Gerard Depardieu from late-'80s Hollywood fluff (and the less said about Green Card the better), his art-house reputation as a legitimate, conscientious actor was more than mere hype. The solid Return of Martin Guerre (Le Retour de Martin Guerre) stands as Depardieu's personal high-water mark: here, he was handed a well-written, nuanced role—one inviting a balanced display of intelligence, charismatic cool, and pure passion—and he makes the most of it. The narrative, set in medieval France during the Hundred Years' War, follows the alleged homecoming of a soldier after many years of absence. His wife (a structurally difficult role to portray with any skill, but played gamely here by the fetching Nathalie Baye) finds him such an improvement—both in the sack and otherwise—from the husband who left for the front that she ignores the villagers' suspicions that he is an impostor. The costumes and scenery are quite a bit better, and more historically responsible, than what we've all come to expect from period drama, and the logical flaws and obvious questions begged by the plot mechanics are smoothed out by director Daniel Vigne's steady hand with story art and cinematic pacing. The film was remade in English, and updated to the Reconstruction, in 1993 as Sommersby, starring Richard Gere and Jodie Foster. See this original instead. —Miles Bethany

Caustic wit gets a full-body workout in this 1994 comedy (known as The Ref in the US), in which a cat burglar (Denis Leary) gets trapped in an affluent Connecticut neighbourhood and is forced to hold a bickering couple hostage on Christmas Eve, only to discover that their Yuletide spirit is anything but cheerful. Caroline (Judy Davis) and her husband, Lloyd (Kevin Spacey), have been at each other's throats for so long that they've developed domestic arguments into an art form, and the would-be kidnapper turns into a reluctant mediator, even after he's got the battling couple wound up in bungee cords. The situation grows even more complicated when the couple's smart-aleck son comes home from military school, but it's not the plot here that's a top priority. Instead it's the sheer pleasure of witnessing a three-way verbal jousting match, written with razor-sharp skill and delivered by actors who are perfect for their roles. The movie's got a dark edge, but it never gets too dark—you know that it's not going to slide into more seriously damaging territory, so you can sit back and enjoy the volleys of scathing insults and sarcasm the way you would a Bill Hicks performance. If that sounds like your idea of entertainment, Hostile Hostages will serve it up with style. —Jeff Shannon

Le pari était risqué : dresser un bilan de l’état du couple québécois en 2002. Ricardo Trogi, qui avait été très remarqué lors de sa participation à La Course destination-monde, s’est attelé à un tel défi et est parvenu à séduire le public et la critique avec son premier long métrage. Québec-Montréal a d’ailleurs remporté quatre prix Jutra, dont celui du meilleur film, ainsi que trois récompenses au Festival de Namur, en Belgique, dont le Bayard d’or du meilleur scénario et le Prix spécial du jury.

Que peuvent avoir en commun un attachant couple en crise, deux collègues en plein flirt, trois amis partant en vacances et une paire scintillante aux allures de Ken et Barbie ? Tous en transit dans leur voiture sur l’autoroute 20, les passagers passent le temps en discutant des relations amoureuses et illustrent, grâce à des mises en situation comiques et cyniques, divers aspects des rapports entre hommes et femmes approchant la trentaine.

Profitant de la monotonie du trajet qui relie la capitale à la métropole, Trogi réussit une “comédie routière” populaire et accessible, bien qu’un peu superficielle. S’il mise sur des effets de style parfois lourds, son film est pimenté de dialogues délectables (et très crus par moments). Les personnages riches et hauts en couleurs sont interprétés à merveille par de jeunes talents (Isabelle Blais, Julie LeBreton, Stéphane Breton, François Létourneau), brillamment dirigés. Québec-Montréal est un film générationnel en forme d’exercice de style branché et dynamique, qui aurait pu être meilleur s’il avait gagné en finesse. —Helen Faradji

Grand gagnant de la course aux récompenses de l’année 2003, Le Pianiste de Roman Polanski méritait amplement sa palme d’or, ses trois oscars et ses sept césars. Adapté de l’autobiographie de Wladyslaw Szpilman, ce film empreint d’une grande dignité raconte la lutte pour sa survie d’un pianiste juif, en Pologne, pendant la Seconde Guerre mondiale.

Polanski, lui-même juif, a attendu des années avant d’aborder ce sujet douloureux. Avec un classicisme tout en retenue, loin de la dramatisation excessive, le cinéaste au passé sulfureux tente ici d’exorciser des démons qui hantent le monde et sa vie depuis plus d’un demi-siècle. De la construction du ghetto de Varsovie à la libération de la ville par les Russes, Polanski nous fait vivre, de l’intérieur, l’incompréhension puis la terreur absolue de ce peuple persécuté.

Porté par l’interprétation subtile et émouvante d’Adrien Brody, en accord parfait avec la sobriété de la mise en scène et du propos, Le Pianiste offre des scènes finales bouleversantes, porteuses d’espoir. Un film qui, au-delà de l’horreur, a le mérite de laisser croire que l’humanité peut renaître de ses cendres. —Helen Faradji