Every now and then, life gives cinema a little helping hand. No sooner has the Enron case re-opened in the US than Alex Gibney's exceptional documentary Enron: The Smartest Guys in the Room goes on release over here. The levels of arrogance and greed on display in this infuriatingly compelling picture are genuinely dismaying, as they suggest that the delusional selfishness of Enron bigwigs Ken Lay and Jeff Skilling represents a national rather than just a corporate ethos. Warning of the dangers inherent in a deregulated free market system, this painstaking expos shows how such fiscal guardians as accountants, bankers and lawyers all turned a blind eye to the company's systematic defrauding of its employees and investors, and leaves viewers with the sobering impression that Wall Street has learned little from the scandal.

After such venting of ire, it's nice to relax into the soothing beauty of Daniel Geller and Dayna Goldfine's Ballets Russes. One of the finest documentaries ever made about the performing arts, this magisterial history of the companies that danced under the name Ballet Russe will inform, inspire and enchant dance aficionados and neophytes alike. Assembled over years of patient research, the archive footage is simply wonderful, with the tinted fragility of the imagery adding to its energy, elegance and ethereality. But what makes this memoir so mesmerising is the accessibility of its scholarship and the vibrancy of the surviving dancers, who recall the squabbles between impresarios Wassily de Basil and Ren Blum and the contributions of key choreographers George Balanchine and Leonard Massine with infectious clarity and enthusiasm. Equally compelling are the stories of the 'Baby Ballerinas' and the contrasting fates of Native and African-American, Maria Tallchief and Raven Wilkinson.

Black art receives another welcome boost with Mark Dornford-May's U-Carmen Ekhayelitsha. Transferred from the South African stage, this Xhosa version of Bizet's opera won the Golden Bear at the Berlin Film Festival and has since had critics falling over themselves to praise it. There's no denying the ingenuity of the story's relocation to the township of Khayelitsha, nor the power of Pauline Malefane's performance as the cigarette factory temptress who inflames the passions of religious cop, Andile Tshoni. But Dornford-May doesn't always solve the problems posed by mounting so obviously theatrical a conceit within a realistic setting. Thus, while he splendidly captures a sense of place during the overture montage, too many set-pieces, including some of the glorious score's highlights, remain stubbornly static. That said, the introduction of a drug-smuggling subplot and Malefane's fixation with visiting singing star Zweilungile Sidloyi pay dividends, while the murderous denouement has a grimly tragic inevitability.

In stark contrast to this over-busy scenario is Jun Ichikawa's deceptively minimalistic dramedy, Tony Takitani. Having excelled as the Emperor Hirohito in Alexander Sokhurov's The Sun, Issey Ogata again impresses alongside Rie Miyazawa, as each takes dual roles in this exquisite study of inhibited passion, misjudged obsession and lamented admonition. Ichikawa's adaptation of Haruki Murakami's beguiling short story makes sublime use of leisurely lateral tracks that not only evoke Japanese scroll art, but also reinforce the endless regret that prompts a widowed illustrator to advertise for a lookalike to wear his shopaholic wife's wardrobe. With its shades of Vertigo and haunting Ryuichi Sakamoto score, this melancholic paean to beauty and pleasure is a bittersweet delight.