Antonioni's breathtaking The Red Desert will receive its international Blu-ray premiere...

At the height of his popularity in 1973, Lou Reed released "Berlin," an ambitious, Brechtian song-cycle album chronicling a couple's drug- and violence-spattered downward spiral. A critical and commercial disaster at the time ("the most depressing album ever made"), platter subsequently attained cult status. Thirty-three years later, in Brooklyn, Reed gave the album its first live performance, with a production designed by Julian Schnabel, who also filmed it for posterity. Less groundbreaking video experimentation than extraordinary concert experience, "Lou Reed's Berlin" expertly fulfills its function. Limited arthouse exposure followed by extensive DVD rollout seems indicated.

Reed's complex, stage-filling orchestration incorporates strings, horns and the Brooklyn Youth Chorus. The performance unites original musicians like lead guitarist Steve Hunter with young guest vocalists like Anthony of Anthony and the Johnsons (whose pure rendition of "Candy Says" offsets the gravel-voiced Reed to perfection). Along with now-classic "Berlin" cuts like "How Do You Think It Feels?" and "The Bed," Reed includes the Velvet Underground retread "Sweet Jane" and his later composition "Rock Minuet." As shot by the incomparable Ellen Kuras, the concert retains a rich organic feel, complementing the music without over-determining it.

If Mad Max went completely barmy and Bonnie & Clyde overdosed on bank jobs and Dirty Harry was dismissed from the force for being too clean, you would get the feel of Jan Kounen's debut film. He doesn't go over the top. He starts there.

Made in cartoon style, with the darkest, bitterest black humour, it tells of Yann (Vincent Cassel) and his gang of dangerous nutters, plus the beautiful, dumb'n'deadly Nat the Gypsy (Monica Bellucci), a sex object of uncompromising delight, and Sonia/Olivier, a law student at home and drag princess at night. It also depicts the insanity and vicious sadism of a fascist cop (Tcheky Karyo), who goes after them.

The spark of Kounen's imagination is offset by a level of violence that would have Quentin Tarantino whimpering like a scorched puppy. The use of guns in symbolic rape-and-pillage is a phallic message to politically correct feminists that guys are back on top and if chicks aren't tough enough, they'll become roadkill like the rest.

The humour bites your face. The popvid camera tricks are tempered by a storyline that demands attention. The performances are ridiculously exaggerated, or too cool to call. If youth equals rebellion equals no-holds-barred, be prepared to smile through gritted teeth. Dobermann makes Blade look like Looney Toons.

Kounen uses film with the patience of a runaway train. At a time when Hollywood sees fit to remake The Tender Trap, his ability to undermine convention is encouraging. Unfortunately, only the brave and emotionally cauterised will watch all the way through. Violence causes nausea when overindulged.