Alec Guinness: A Film Collection (five discs). Yes, there was far more to Sir Alec than the Ealing Studios comedies he made in the Fifties, but if he’d done nothing other than make Kind Hearts and Coronets, The Lavender Hill Mob, The Man in the White Suit, and The Ladykillers, his reputation as a great screen comedian would be absolutely secure. This new boxed set contains good transfers of all four films (plus a lesser effort, The Captain’s Paradise) and is a must for anyone who doesn’t already own these zany studies of Austerity Britain as seen through the cracked lens of farce. The Ladykilllers is the best of the four, but all are essential and immortal (TT).

Jerry Junkin and the Dallas Wind Symphony, Lincolnshire Posy: Music for Band by Percy Grainger (Reference). An exquisitely well-played collection of Grainger’s folk-flavored compositions and arrangements for concert band. Lincolnshire Posy, his six-movement masterpiece, is performed in a manner comparable in quality to the long-celebrated 1958 recording by Frederick Fennell and the Eastman Wind Ensemble. That version remains the gold standard, but it’s out of print, and this one has the advantage of being coupled with such delectable miniatures as “Shepherd’s Hey,” “Spoon River,” “The Duke of Marlborough Fanfare,” and the deservedly ever-popular “Irish Tune from County Derry” (that’s “Danny Boy” to you). Grainger’s way with a folksong was both charming and brilliantly imaginative, and what he didn’t know about scoring for concert band wasn’t worth knowing. This might just be the best Grainger album to come along since Benjamin Britten’s 1969 Salute to Percy Grainger (TT).

Brad Gooch, Flannery: A Life (Little, Brown, $30, out Feb. 25). The first full-length biography of Flannery O’Connor is now available for pre-ordering. Flannery is lucidly written, sympathetic yet detached, thorough but not overly detailed. Among Gooch’s more startling revelations: “Good Country People” is autobiographical, more or less. Don’t expect too, many shockers, but don’t worry about it, either. Surprising or not, this is the book O’Connor’s admirers have been waiting for, and it does her justice (TT).

Jim Hall and Bill Frisell, Hemispheres (ArtistShare, two CDs). An unprecedented collaboration between two guitarists whose sharply contrasting styles have more in common than you might suppose. The first disc is devoted to duets, the second to quartet performances featuring Scott Colley on bass and Joey Baron on drums. The fare varies from pop and jazz standards to challenging free improvisations in which Frisell lays down avant-garde “sonic landscapes” (his phrase) on top of which Hall soliloquizes with arresting eloquence. Rich, complex, involving (TT).

The Cripple of Inishmaan (Atlantic, 336 W. 20, extended through March 1). Galway’s Druid Theatre Company brings its letter-perfect revival of Martin McDonagh’s 1997 comedy to New York. What would you be waiting for? This soot-black portrayal of Irish village life at its most claustrophobic is immaculately cast and exquisitely staged by Garry Hynes. Yes, it’s a comedy, and a touching one–but be careful where you touch it or you’re liable to come away with burnt fingers. Anyone who’s allergic to stage-Irish clichés will revel in the wildly funny savagery with which McDonagh skewers them through and through (TT).

Frederic Spotts, The Shameful Peace: How French Artists and Intellectuals Survived the Nazi Occupation (Yale, $35). New from the author of Hitler and the Power of Aesthetics, the first book-length study of how France’s culturati coped with the German occupation. The answer is in the title. Virtually all French artists played ball with the Nazis in one way or another, and some of the greatest (including the incomparable pianist Alfred Cortot) did their bidding with foul alacrity. Spotts’ book is insufficiently detailed and lacks full source notes, but the story it tells is both true and compelling–as well as depressing. Anyone naïve enough to think of artists as a nobler breed should read it and weep (TT).

Schubert Piano Trios (ArtistLed). Magnificently played performances of Schubert’s resplendent B Flat and E Flat Trios by Philip Setzer, David Finckel and Wu Han. It’s all in the family: Setzer and Finckel play violin and cello in the Emerson String Quartet, while Wu Han, the brilliant pianist, is Finckel’s wife. As for the record label, it’s a mom-and-pop Web-based operation run out of the Finckels’ New York apartment–but rest assured that there’s nothing remotely amateurish about the playing or production on this must-have album (TT).

Road House. Ida Lupino was never sexier than in this crisp 1948 thriller about a nightclub owner (Richard Widmark at his craziest) who falls for a hard-edged dame from the big city, then jumps off the deep end when she prefers his best friend (Cornel Wilde). A wonderful, insufficiently appreciated film noir, long overdue for transfer to DVD. This is the one where Lupino sings “One for My Baby” in a hoarse little voice (yes, it’s hers) that sounds as though its owner had just downed a double Drano on the rocks (TT).