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Daisato (director/co-writer Hitosi Matumoto) is having his daily life filmed by a TV crew. This life is pretty depressing. He doesn't make much money, his wife has left him, and his neighbours hate him. His job isn't exactly low-stress, either: he is Big Man Japan, a hereditary job that involves defending Japan against monster attacks. So whenever he gets the call, he has to run to the nearest power plant, get himself zapped until he grows into a 50-foot giant, and do battle with various bizarre creatures (one looks like a plucked chicken with a huge eyeball/penis appendage). But though he does his best, his ratings are down, his show is broadcast in the dead hours of the morning, his agent appears to be taking advantage of him, and there's a new monster in town that mops the floor with him on their first encounter.

This is a 6-part series presented by the Discovery Channel, documenting the different devices created so that America could reach the moon by a deadline that then US president Kennedy had promised the nation.

The story originally seems to set itself up to be that of redemption for a young man who is fresh out of jail. While this story is around, there seems to be parallel stories that arise as subplot but soon race alongside the original tale like proverbial track horses (and horses also just so happen to be the nexus for said plots). Just as one seems to buck into the lead, another comes along to grab the focus.

“Nobody has everything they want. It’s a survival pattern. You get what you want, you want something else, something more extreme, something more specific, something perfect….”

A Joss Whedon universe is always a strange and fantastical place to visit. It doesn’t matter if it’s populated by vampires and demons or space cowboys. If Whedon’s name appears anywhere on the credits, you know you’re going to be in for one hell of a ride. It’s been a little while since Whedon’s been back in the saddle. His most recent series, Firefly, was fraught with problems with the network. It was very badly handled, and the show died an undeserved swift death after just a few episodes.

This American Life, broadcast on the Showtime network, is a half-hour show based on, or more accurately, spun off from, the award-winning Chicago Public Radio show of the same name. Each episode is loosely based on a theme, which is then explored through stories about real people. The content and style varies from week to week, with stories ranging from light-hearted to incredibly sad.

I, of all people, should know that one person's cultural detritus is another's fond nostalgia, and what better example of that can there be than this release. A strange mix of athletic contest, pro-wrestling posturing and silly gimmick game show, this series (which has recently been reborn) pitted hard-bodied contestants against the even-more-hard-bodied (at least in appearance) Gladiators of the title. Some contests involve knocking each off a beam, or dodging tennis balls fired from a gun while trying to get in a shot of one's own. Or then there's swinging in on a rope in the attempt to knock the Gladiator off a pedestal. It's all pretty silly, made even more so by the straight-faced colour commentary. If the intent was to satirize sports broadcast generally, then this is quite brilliantly funny, at least at first, but the joke can't sustain itself over multiple seasons.

Foreseeing his own assassination, Harvey Milk (Sean Penn), America's first openly gay elected politician, records his memoirs. The film flashes back to follow his narration, tracking his transformation from don't-make-waves semi-closeted New Yorker to activist San Franciscan. In his new home, he decides to run for City Supervisor, and after numerous failed attempts, which take a toll on his personal relationships, he finally wins. The battles are only just beginning, however, as he must now wage war against the intolerant laws being pushed by California Governor Briggs and anti-gay crusader Anita Bryant. Meanwhile, a prickly professional relationship with fellow Supervisor Dan White (Josh Brolin) is sowing the seeds of tragedy.

“There’s one thing I always wanted to ask Jack back in the old days. I wanted to know about that Doctor of his, the man who appears out of nowhere and saves the world, except sometimes he doesn’t. All those times in history where there was no sign of him, I wanted to know why not. But I don’t need to ask anymore. I know the answer now. Sometimes The Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame.”

It all started some decades ago with the BBC’s immensely popular television series, Dr. Who.

Imagine waking up one morning to find a newspaper on your front porch. Here in Tampa, the fact that the paper is actually on your front porch is miracle enough. Imagine further that this ordinary looking paper isn’t today’s paper at all, but rather tomorrow’s edition. If you could trust that what you held was the genuine article, so to speak, just think of the possibilities. For most of us our thoughts turn to the myriad ways in which we could enrich ourselves: sports scores, lottery numbers, even stock tips. If, however, you’re less selfish,

As a kid, I was a huge Lost In Space fan. We loved Dr. Smith in particular and would go around our neighborhoods moaning, “The pain, oh the pain” in some mock imitation of the deliciously bad character. I think I finally know what he was talking about. I’m a man, and so I won’t even begin to pretend that I can understand what labor pains feel like. I believe it when I’m told there’s no worse suffering in the human experience, except for one. Yes, my gentle female readers, no matter how much torture childbirth might be for you