n Regeneration (15) (Fox Pathe; to rent from Monday)

Few nowadays would doubt that the First World War was a wretched affair which needlessly cut down the bloom of Europe for the sake of the pride of imperial powermongers. The great strength of Regeneration is that it manages to find a new twist on the horrors of that war, by taking as its focus the work of military doctors who strove to cure their badly damaged charges only to send them back to the front.

Craiglockart Hospital was in the vanguard of psychiatric care, and was where Siegfried Sassoon was sent - to be smeared by association with mental illness - after he had written a declaration opposing the war's aims.

Given the almost unimaginable horrors of that war (British strategy seemed to consist of throwing thousands of men forward ceaselessly, in the hope that sheer weight of numbers would mean a few would slip past the machine-gun fire) the film needs extremely strong central performances, which it gets in spades from Jonathan Price, as William Rivers, a doctor who begins to doubt his purpose, and Jonny Lee Miller, as Billy Prior, a working-class officer rendered mute by the horrors he has seen. The class issue would have been interesting to explore further (it was usually the lower ranks who became muted by the horrors; officers stammered), as would Rivers's internal conflict, but otherwise this is an intelligent, affecting work.

n Spiceworld (PG) (to rent/buy - #15.99 - from Monday)

Not being a fan, I wasn't well-disposed to this initially, but, from the opening titles (Like a Bond done by Saul Bass) I was hooked. The girls can't all really sing, they can't all really act (they can project the simple personas they have adopted/been assigned - indeed, it's that grey area the film exploits to great effect), but they do seem to have a lot of fun, in a way for which you can't help liking them. The genuinely amusing and witty script also helps. This is a satire of the strange business of modern celebrity, and it works a treat. The supporting cast and cameos (including Barry Humphries, Richard E Grant, Elvis Costello, Jennifer Saunders, and . . . er . . . Meatloaf) hit the right notes consistently. If your young 'uns are clamouring for this, then

you can rest easy that you'll

find it tolerable if not

enjoyable yourself.

n The Tango Lesson (PG) (Artificial Eye; to rent/buy - #15.99 - from Monday)

This unbearably narcissistic film communicates nothing beyond Sally Orlando Potter's irretrievably self-satisfied and self-regarding ego. She manages to suck the life out of the most erotic dance in the world, so that it becomes for her just a collection of techniques to be mastered - a fallacy on the lines of saying that learning a chess opening will make you Capablanca. The film's myriad failings are typified by the banality of this exchange - She: ''How did you choose the tango?'' He: ''I

didn't; the tango chose me.'' Ersatz, watered-down waltz on the wild side; a simulacrum of what it means to feel passion. Avoid at all costs.

Kevin McCardle