Requiescant (15)

Arrow Films, £12.99

Released in 1967 and set in Texas a decade after the American Civil War, this pulsating and pleasingly curious film is notionally a spaghetti western. But as star Lou Castell observes in one of two interviews which make up the extras package, its theme of class war make it as much a communist take on the genre as an Italian one. Both he and director Carlo Lizzani shared militant Leftist beliefs and when you factor in the man Lizzani casts as a revolutionary priest - his friend and fellow Communist Pier Paolo Pasolini - you can see that politics are never far from the surface in this story of a young Mexican boy who survives a treacherous massacre to wreak vengeance on the Gringos who killed his family.

That said, there's plenty for genre fans to enjoy, from the twangy guitar soundtrack to the ketchup-y shoot-outs not to mention the heavy religious symbolism: Requiescant, which means “May they rest in peace” in Latin, is also the name adopted by the mysterious hero (Castell), a man who has Jason Bourne-like killing skills and just as little idea about where he got them.

Facing off against Castell as murderous landowner George Bellow Ferguson is ex-pat American Mark Damon, a veteran of several Roger Corman horrors and the most vampiric-looking Western baddie you could ever hope to see. Joining Pasolini in the cast, meanwhile, are two of the famous director's most frequent collaborators, Ninetto Davoli (Hawks And Sparrows, The Decameron) and Franco Citti (Accattone, Mamma Roma). Great fun, and for fans of Pasolini a rare chance to see the director in a speaking role.

Stop Making Sense: Restored Edition (E)

Second Sight, £19.99

Recorded over three nights in Los Angeles in December 1983, Jonathan Demme's concert film catches its subject, Talking Heads, at the peak of their creative and musical powers and, in a pretty crowded marketplace, can still claim to be one of the best examples of the genre.

The oversized suit that singer David Byrne wears towards the end of the set is rightly iconic, but so is the opening scene in which Demme's camera tracks Byrne's tennis shoe-clad feet as he walks onto the stage, places a boom box on the floor beside him and performs a solo version of Psycho Killer complete with theatrical staggering in the drum breakdowns. One highbrow critic has compared his “moves” here to Jean-Paul Belmondo's death shuffle at the end of A Bout De Souffle; in fact they were borrowed from a Fred Astaire film, as bassist Tina Weymouth reveals in the audio commentary.

Everything else is just as good, from close harmony duet Heaven to the barnstorming cover of Al Green's Take Me To The River, via the rousing Slippery People and the evergreen hit Once In A Lifetime. Same as it ever was? Actually it's even better: during the restoration process, 60,000 dirt marks and scratches were removed. Extras include a wonderfully eccentric four minute archive segment in which Byrne interviews himself about the film, his interrogator changing costumes with every question and at points even appearing blacked-up and in drag.

The Fallen Idol (U)

Studio Canal, £15.99

The most celebrated collaboration between novelist Graham Greene and British film director Carol Reed is, of course, The Third Man, shot in Vienna in the autumn of 1948 with a script by Greene. Two months before work on that film started, however, The Fallen Idol opened in cinemas, this time an adaptation by Reed of a Greene short story called The Basement Room. Barring one particular scene - a frantic, night-time dash through London's cobbled and rain-slicked streets - they couldn't be more different.

Set in a shuttered-up foreign embassy, The Fallen Idol is told mostly from the perspective of its ambassador's seven-year-old son Phillipe (Anglo-French actor Robert Henrey). He's left to his own devices when his father is called away to bring Phillipe's long-absent mother home from hospital so to fill his days he plays with his pet snake Macgregor and hangs out with Baines (Ralph Richardson), the embassy's story-telling British butler. Phillipe also tries to avoid Baines's domineering wife (Sonia Dresdel), the embassy housekeeper. When Phillipe inadvertently learns that Baines is in love with someone else and the scheming Mrs Baines meets with a timely accident on the embassy's grand marble staircase, Phillipe becomes a crucial witness in the subsequent police investigation. But how reliable is he, with his scant understanding of the world of grown-ups and relationships, and his blind loyalty to a man who might be a killer?

Released here in a restored version as part of Studio Canal's Vintage Classics collection, the generous extras package includes an interview with Robert Henrey himself as well as an appreciation of the film by actor-director Richard Ayoade.