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Mozzer’s post-Smiths solo work grew steadily less compelling through the nineties, so much so that while our fickle fanboy hearts wanted to sanctify Stephen Patrick Morrissey in 1986, by 2004 we were unaware that he hadn’t released anything for seven years. If you can make a sliding scale out of that timeline, we feel pretty 1991 about this record, which ain’t bad. Quarry is rich with lush musical arrangements and the undiluted power of Morrissey’s voice, but while he can still emote the hell out of any song, the lyrics are comparatively flat; for instance, he sings “America, it brought you the hamburger” with the same passion as he once sang “I am the son and the heir of a shyness that is criminally vulgar.” Which is not to say there are no gems to be mined from Quarry—“First of the Gang To Die” is a terrific example of why we fell for the big-haired galoot in the first place. (Available now)

Oddly enough, this foul-mouthed, taboo-smashing sendup of racism in Westerns, co-written by Mel Brooks and Richard Pryor, made more money than any real Western ever did—which must have set John Ford spinning in his grave. Brooks shows he’s not above tooting his own horn by noting in an interview on the DVD that the infamous “eating beans around the campfire” scene made history as Hollywood’s first wind-breaking. (If that’s part of the Old West you’d rather not experience, the DVD includes the silent, edited-for-TV version of the scene.) This thirtieth-anniversary edition also features Black Bart, the pilot for an abortive TV spinoff. Also out in June is Brooks’ 1995 flop Dracula: Dead and Loving It; just put a stake in that one. (Available June 29)

A delightful throwback to the great TV detective shows of the 1970s like Columbo, Monk has inspired a great deal of affection in our mystery-loving Rakish hearts. Quite simply, a very clever show, in terms of both the creatively offbeat, yet solvable crimes (like the skydiver who somehow drowns in midair), and the quirky nature of detective Adrian Monk. It’s dancing on a thin line to make your main character obsessive-compulsive and phobic, but thanks to smart writing and the Emmy-winning performance by Tony Shalhoub, what could have been a dreadful gimmick actually helps give the show its heart and soul. And at any rate, when it’s done well, the “defective detective” subgenre has worked over and over again in the crime-story biz; even Sherlock Holmes had more than a few quirks of his own. For Monk to follow that path is no crime. (Available June 15)

When it comes to sketch comedy on the tube, Saturday Night Live has long hogged the limelight (Mad TV is actually edgier and funnier these days), while no one would argue the canonical importance of the Pythons (they’d dissolved before the current cast of SNL was even born). But of the three greatest sketch comedy programs ever produced for television, SCTV gets the least respect. Consider it yet another indignity of being Canadian. SCTV was more on-point as a parody of the medium itself—a rich enough vein considering the hilarious parade of game shows, talk shows, fake ads, and assorted characters making their televisual home in “Melonville.” One could certainly make the argument that John Candy, Harold Ramis, Catherine O’Hara, Eugene Levy, and Rick Moranis all have had longer and more interesting careers in the movies than any Not Ready for Prime Time Player, and the Pythons haven’t had all that many hits. Take it from the Guy with the Snake on His Face—who first made his appearance in 1976—no one can beat this deal, not even Guy Caballero or his sultry concubine Edith Prickley. (Available June 8)

If you think Godzilla movies are mostly silly and puerile, well, you’re probably right. But the 1954 original is a very different monster—instead of cheeseball pro-wrestling with rubber-suited sci-fi beasts, it offered a dark meditation on the awe-inspiring power of the atomic bomb. It’s still a monster movie, to be sure, just one that actually has something important to say. And unless you’ve been to Japan, you’ve never seen it—because when the film was brought stateside, it was utterly eviscerated. Forty minutes were removed, the atomic angle (and American culpability) was downplayed, and a painfully unnecessary character played by Raymond Burr was shoehorned in, apparently for the sole purpose of getting a white guy in the cast. On the occasion of Big G’s fiftieth birthday, this restored version has been stomping through arthouse theaters across the country.

Lately Quentin Tarantino’s been agitating to be named the director of the next James Bond movie, which strikes us as a not-half-bad idea. As Tarantino doubtless knows, the Japanese already pulled off their version of such a feat with this movie, in which super-stylish director Takeshi Kitano revisits and updates the beloved 1960s action series about Zatoichi, the wandering blind gambler and fastest sword in the land. Expect a lighter touch than you might have seen in the breathtakingly violent crime thrillers that brought Kitano his biggest U.S. fame; as a matter of fact, the closing scene owes as much to Busby Berkeley as it does to Akira Kurosawa. (And do check out the original films starring the gruff Shintaro Katsu, currently being released on DVD; we’ve seen six, and loved them all.) (612) 925-6006; www.landmarktheatres.com

Argentinian writer/director Alejandro Agresti mined his own childhood for this sure-fire arthouse hit, a lovable cross between My Life As a Dog, The Station Agent, and Amelie. The movie’s heart is Rodrigo Noya as Valentin, a sweet-natured, old-souled little boy who comes to terms with the world, and his deep-set family problems, by resolving issues among his relatives and neighbors. Noya is a remarkable child actor, cute as a Muppet but also curious, intelligent and sad. His performance saves the film from a tendency toward the cloying; there’s also a subtle undercurrent that suggests that everything will not necessarily turn out well in the end. Argentine model and TV star Julieta Cardinali, playing a girlfriend of Valentin’s father, has an endearing rapport with the little boy, who desperately hopes she will become his new mother. And Agresti himself takes on the role of the little boy’s abusive, domineering father, perhaps working out some Freudian baggage. 3911 West 50th St., Edina, (952) 926-1621, www.landmarktheatres.com

If you’re lacking a song in your heart or a spring in your step, this series of twenty-one musicals in twenty-one days ought to give you plenty of both. This all-singing, all-dancing extravaganza includes longtime favorites like West Side Story, Singin’ in the Rain, and the classic Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers vehicles Top Hat and Shall We Dance. The series’ opener, Silk Stockings on May 28, has been moved to the Riverview to accommodate a special treat for fans: hoofing legend Cyd Charisse, who starred with Fred Astaire in this 1957 film, will host a Q&A at the screening. Oak Street, 309 Oak St. S.E., Minneapolis; (612) 331-3134; oakstreetcinema.org. Riverview, 3800 42nd Ave. S., Minneapolis; (612) 729-7369; www.riverviewtheater.com

Since Judith Guest’s inspired debut with Ordinary People in 1976, she has reigned as the Amelia Earhart of local best-selling authors. Where the hell was she? Living the high life on the grosses from the Oscar-winning film made from her book? Very little buzz accompanied Guest’s subsequent work—until now. Her new suspense novel, The Tarnished Eye, takes us deep into an unsolved, three-decade-old murder in Michigan, based on an actual case. No paint-by-numbers mystery writer, Guest also delves into the souls of her characters with as keen an eye for dysfunction as she had back in ’76.

Jim Harrison eclipsed Thomas McGuane as the tough-guy Western writer of our time because of the heart one could sense in his prose, buried just beneath all the boozing, fighting, and betrayals. He comes through again in his latest, True North, facing the old-as-the-Bible question of what a son should pay for his father’s sins. The son, David Burkett, is convinced he must right some of the environmental wrongs wreaked on Michigan’s Upper Peninsula by his father, a boozed-out Yalie Master of the Universe. Earnest yet believable, Harrison also delivers his usual knock-out punch of an ending. 1658 Lincoln Ave., St. Paul; (651) 699-0587; www.ruminator.com