Whole labels can get overlooked, not just single titles. The UK's Artificial Eye label has a world-beating roster demanding worldwide attention. Containing many titles not available in other territories, the label was founded by Andi Engel in the early 1970s. It has long been a haven for quality independent cinema in the UK, concentrating on modern cinema more than most boutiques in this article, yet is the longstanding home of Bresson, Kieslowski, Tarkovsky, Vigo, etc. They provide a much appreciated, independent UK resource for quality cinema and DVD releases (and have marginally more discs out than the bfi). Among their most valuable releases, for me, are titles that deserve constant exposure, red-hot modern classics: the Dardennes brothers films - La Promesse and Rosetta (available together), and The Son; Béla Tarr's Damnation and Werckmeister Harmonies (available together); and older titles like Satyajit Ray's Apu Trilogy (far superior transfers than Columbia Tristar USA's shameful releases); Yasujiro Ozu's rare non-Shochiku film End of Summer; and Kenji Mizoguchi's masterpiece Life of Oharu, and the rarely seen Lady of Musashino (see panel above). Artificial Eye can be relied on for a lot of the best new world cinema from around the world, with many titles deserving of close attention: Samira Makhmalbaf's The Apple, Blackboards, and At Five in the Afternoon; Jafar Panahi's The Circle; as well as Raúl Ruiz, Alexander Sokurov and Michael Haneke's modern masterpieces. Future releases include Bresson, Feuillade, Vigo, and Sokurov.

Asmik Ace are responsible for some marvellous releases over the last few years. A series of box sets devoted to Kaneto Shindô, and one devoted to Hiroshi Teshigahara (see picture) are their main releases of interest. They tell me that they have nothing like this currently planned for the future, which is a real shame, but the bulk of their releases have English subtitles (which is very, very rare for Japanese companies), and frankly, they could teach Shochiku and Toho a thing or two about DVD creation (the importance of English subtitles for a start). Asmik Ace operate much like specialist boutique labels in the West, licensing films from within Japan, creating their own high definition transfers, and making a point of fine presentation. Similarly niche releases from other companies have begun to emerge from Japan: see the Toshio Matsumoto box set from SPO mentioned here.

It's easy to compare every boutique here with Criterion — who represent a benchmark of excellence familiar to most of us — but there are a number of companies in France who are competing on the same level, among them, MK2, Les Documents Cinématographiques, Studio Canal, and Blaq Out. Blaq Out's owners understand that the DVD market is a world market and have taken the extraordinary step to release all their forthcoming titles as NTSC discs with optional English subtitles on the features and all the extras. Of their older releases, some have English subtitles on everything, like Bruno Dumont's Twentynine Palms (2003) (still not available in the UK or USA yet), whilst others, like the Otar Iosseliani twelve film box set (see picture) only have French subtitles. With only a scant understanding of French, I haven't been prevented from greatly enjoying this set because Iosseliani's films are, like Tati's, mainly visual films that can be enjoyed many times.

At the time of writing they've just released their first two NTSC all-region discs, Bénédicte Liénard's A Piece of Sky [Une part du ciel] (2002) starring Séverine Caneele in her first role since winning Best Actress at Cannes in Dumont's L'Humanité; and Bernard/Brillat/Trividic's Dancing (2003) [great website]. October 2004 sees the release of Eric Rohmer's Triple Agent (2003) and over the next few months they have: Rice People (Rithy Panh, 1994); Bab El-Oued City (Merzak Allouache, 1994); Babusya (Lidia Bobrova, 2003); and History of a Secret (Mariana Otero, 2003).

Having spent the last five years slowly building an impressive collection of over ninety eclectic DVD releases, the bfi have now hit their stride. Through close collaboration with other leading companies around the world they insist upon the finest materials and boast a catalogue so varied and satisfying, that each new wave of releases is a joy to discover. Recent releases such as Charles Burnett's To Sleep With Anger (1990), E.A. Dupont's Piccadilly (1929), Jacques Feyder's La Kermesse héroïque (1935) and Les Enfants terribles (Melville, 1950) vie for the film aesthete's attention along with the bfi's essential Archive Television and History of the Avant-Garde series. Essential bfi back-catalogue titles are pictured above: they include; a collection of silent Evgenii Bauer films entitled Mad Love (1913-16); An Actor's Revenge (Ichikawa, 1962) — a glorious anamorphic transfer; Rossellini's Journey to Italy (1953) with Laura Mulvey commentary; Renoir's majestic Partie de campagne (1936) loaded with priceless extras; Michael Powell's magnificent early film The Edge of the World (1937); two Ritwik Ghatak films, The Cloud-Capped Star (1960) and A River Called Titas (1973) — which are both, strangely, NTSC and Region 0; and, among many other gems, two Peter Watkins rarities from the Archive Television series, Culloden (1964) and The War Game (1965). The bfi focus in the exciting, fruitful, and necessary areas where the bean counters refuse to go, places where Criterion like to dwell. Along with many of the other companies listed in this article, the bfi are helping to create an entirely new market for neglected classic and world cinema. Forthcoming releases for late 2004 include a double-bill of early Buñuel — L'Âge d'or and Un chien andalou; as well as later Buñuel — Tristana (1970); and a gaggle of Tati.

Could it be possible that the kings of DVD have overlooked titles? The consistency of their picks is such that, as they approach 300 discs on the market, there are undoubtedly a few gems in the collection that don't get written about as much as the big titles, and, sadly, don't get "blind bought" much either. There are a number of lesser-known Criterions that we're lucky to have on DVD yet perhaps don't adorn many collections: Varda's Cleo from 5 to 7 (#73) and Vagabond (#74); Jacques Becker's extraordinarily fresh Le Trou (#129); Kadar & Klos' beautifully realised The Shop on Main St. (#130); Ermanno Olmi's pair of beauties Il Posto (#194) and I Fidanzati (#195); and the lovingly created edition of Vilgot Sjöman's I Am Curious (#179).

Criterion's sister label, HVE (Home Vision Entertainment) have released a number of titles that complement The Criterion Collection wonderfully. Indeed, one wonders why Robert Flaherty's Man of Aran and Louisiana Story weren't Criterion releases themselves, but unless you're a packaging tart who covets a shelf of consecutive spine numbers, you'll probably just be thankful that they have received wonderful transfers, lavished with archive extras.

With five titles already released, the Danish Film Institute are doing a tremendous job of propagating parts of their archive. Their first disc, The First Film Archive has over 225 minutes of priceless Danish early film footage from 1899-1913. It contains the first seventy films donated to the Danish State. The second release, in early 2003, was Carl Th. Dreyer's Der var engang (full review here) which was closely followed by a disc compiling two Alfred Lind films. A few months ago the DFI released two new discs: three films on one disc starring Valdemar Psilander (Denmark's Rudolph Valentino); and the first two incredible films by Benjamin Christensen Sealed Orders (1914) & Blind Justice (1916), also known as The Mysterious X and Night of Revenge respectively. All the DFI discs have English subtitles/intertitles and they are only available from the DFI's own bookshop, which has an online store here.

Eureka (UK) were actually a fine boutique label even before they started issuing the Masters of Cinema Series (okay, we won't blow this trumpet too hard). Superlative editions of Murnau's The Last Laugh (still unsurpassed) and Sunrise; Lang's M, Metropolis, Dr Mabuse: The Gambler & The Testament of Dr. Mabuse; von Sternberg's The Blue Angel; and a whole host of Eisenstein and Griffith are all on Eureka's roster.

Eureka's new Masters of Cinema Series continues with Dreyer's Michael in October 2004 (we've really gone to town on it), and I guess we'll know just how "overlooked" that one is when we see how many are left in the warehouse after Christmas. I shall move on...

Kino (USA) are a mighty presence in the classic and world cinema DVD scene. With hundreds of releases from Keaton, to Griffith, Buñuel, Mamoulian, Kieslowski, Lang, Maddin, Pagnol, Wong, etc they cover huge swathes of cinema from silent classics to Greek Dramas; classic European cinema (Hungary's Jancsó and Szabó, Czechoslovakia's Jireš, etc); the glorious Slapstick Symposium series (see Glenn Kenny's comments in the sidebar); Asian Cinema; and their Collector's box sets (The Art of American Film Theatre, Keaton, Murnau, Griffith Masterworks, etc). They even have time to keep up with modern releases, and their release of The Return (Zvyagintsev) shows they can still pick 'em. A recent deal with Universal has seen Mamoulian's Love Me Tonight, Applause, and Paul Leni's The Man Who Laughs on Kino DVD. Some Kino releases that may get overlooked are pictured above (Jancsó's The Red and the White and Klimov's Come and See are, like Paths of Glory and Les Carabiniers, among the best anti-war films ever made).

Where to begin? So many incredible titles and so hard to find at Image's almost useless website. Their silent film catalogue contains much Griffith, Eisenstein, Pudovkin, Dovzhenko (Earth and Arsenal), Dreyer (Vampyr and The Parson's Widow) alongside lesser-known discs such as Evangeline (Edwin Carewe, 1929); The Chess Player (Raymond Bernard, 1927); the stupendous Charley Bowers set; Captain Fracasse (Cavalcanti/Wuschleger, 1929) and Berlin: Symphony of a Great City (Walter Ruttmann, 1927). Image Entertainment, like many of the boutiques here, are a major supporter of silent cinema — an area I'm passionate about and which needs all the support it can get.

Nineteen Ingmar Bergman discs (soon to be 21 with the releases of The Rite and Sjöberg's Frenzy in December) shows Tartan's commitment to individual directors. Each disc, from original SFI elements, is luminous. Stunning. Among the Tartan Bergman titles still unavailable in the USA, are: Summer Interlude, To Joy, Crisis, The Magician, The Virgin Spring, All These Women, Three Strange Loves, and Summer with Monika. Other Tartan collections focus on Truffaut, Pasolini, and in 2005, Yasujiro Ozu (a box set of Tokyo Story, Late Spring and Early Summer for starters). A Tartan disc I particularly enjoyed, which may have gone under some radars, is Nicolas Philibert's magical documentary Etre et avoir (2002) about a rural primary school, the pupils, and the maverick teacher there.

Thanks to David Shepard, I've recently become aware of Les Documents Cinématographiques (see Shepard's comments in the sidebar) who have released a treasure trove of rare French films on DVD with English subtitles. Their website deserves a close look. Other solid gold French companies include MK2 (who have a beautiful edition of Kiarostami's The Wind Will Carry Us with English subs on everything; three Mohsen Makhmalbaf films — Gabbeh, Salaam Cinema, and Le Silence with English subs and gorgeous transfers; and Pabst/Feyder versions of L'Atlantide (no Eng subs). France also has Carlotta, Wild Side and Editions Montparnasse who tend to release neglected gems of American cinema such as Letter From an Unknown Woman and Caught (both Ophuls), Secret Beyond the Door (Lang), Man of the West (Mann), and Cluny Brown (Lubitsch); Editions Montparnasse is releasing many titles from the classic RKO catalogue including Stage Door (LaCava), This Land is Mine (Renoir), Mary of Scotland and Lost Patrol (Ford), On Dangerous Ground (Ray), Narrow Margin (Fleischer) and many others; whilst Studio Canal have released Tavernier and Sautet films with English subs, and the Studio Canal Classiques label has a few older titles with English subtitles such as Jeux interdits (Clement), Casque d'or (Becker) and Touchez pas au grisbi (Becker) (frustratingly, Studio Canal Classiques' new titles omit English subtitles). Sometimes, the French subtitles on these discs (particularly Wild Side releases) are player-generated, but forced. This means that if you're a dab hand with computers you can get rid of the subtitles and burn a fresh disc without them (ie. they're not ingrained).

Deserving of its own paragraph is Abel Gance's Napoleon (1927), available only in Australia (R4) courtesy of Universal/Studio Canal as the 223 minute, 1981 restoration. This version (with Carmine Coppola score), is still 90 minutes shorter than the 2000 restoration, but the only version currently available on DVD. The release of this film in other territories is held up due to sticky arguments between Gance's estate and Universal. It seems that a loophole allows an Australian release, and it's certainly worth a look.

Germany's Arthaus label has Riefenstahl's Olympia on two discs as well as a lovely transfer of Hitchcock's Blackmail and Fanck's The White Hell of Pitz Palu (no Eng subs unfortunately).

Whether something is "overlooked" or not, is, of course, open to interpretation. I wonder how many folk reading this have seen the National Film Preservation Foundation Treasures from American Film Archives and More Treasures from American Film Archives box sets? (see the DVDBeaver review of the newer set here. For many, the highlight is Ernst Lubitsch's Lady Windermere's Fan.) The first box set contains fifty films (over 4 discs) preserved by eighteen of America's premier archives who have joined forces to showcase the films that survive today due to their efforts. Films include: Rose Hobart (Joseph Cornell); Early Films from the Edison Company; The Battle of San Pietro (John Huston); Private Snafu: Spies (Chuck Jones); The Lonedale Operator (D.W. Griffith); an early two-strip Technicolor film The Toll of the Sea (gorgeous); plus much more, comprising 11 hours of film.