Well, Stella Street is just your average little street in downtown Surbiton, a leafy London suburb with nothing to differentiate it from a thousand other middle-class islands of green tranquility.

Well, nothing until Michael Caine moved in, seeking a bit of peace and quiet. And then he lured in some of his pals... Jack Nicholson, Joe Pesci, Al Pacino. And Mick and Keith, tired of all that touring, have bought the corner store. Oh yes, David Bowie's just moved in around the corner, too.

Soccer-nut Jimmy Hill is on hand to bore everyone to death with his reminiscences of great matches... and everyone's mum, the awful Mrs Elaine Huggett, will vacuum the floors, shift a bit of dust around and poke through all your belongings for a few quid a week. Meanwhile, in the garden, the pyromaniacal Geordie gardener Len McMonotoney is lurking, just waiting for his chance to build a bonfire and turn your house - and you - into a Surbiton Blazing Inferno.

Stella Street is the widescreen feature-film development of the sketches created by those hugely talented British actors/impersonators Phil Cornwell and John Sessions who've featured in three series' broadcast here on SBS Television.

Cornwell and Sessions came out of the same school of comedy that developed Comic Strip, Saunders and French and Absolutely Fabulous and the pedigree lineage shows. Phil and John are joined for the feature film by Ronni Ancona, who plays such lovelies as Posh Spice, Madonna and Jerry Hall, but those characters are walk-ons, really this is the Phil and John show.

When Cornwell becomes the show's lynchpin, Michael Caine, he really IS Michael Caine. He is more real than the actor who normally passes himself off as Michael Caine. I guess the most famous Michael Caine impersonator is Londoner Maurice Micklewhite - he certainly gets more gigs - but Phil Cornwell is somehow just a tad more convincing.

And when Phil shrugs off the Caine persona and becomes smooth-talking, hip Jack Nicholson, there's no remnant left of Michael - this is suddenly a visitation from Hollywood, with fast broads, hard liquor and all.

John Sessions slips into the persona of the vile cleaning-woman Mrs Huggett, or slides into the inebriated, drug-ridden skin of Keith Richards with equal ease. He doesn't have the body-comedy skills of Phil Cornwell; he carries off his impersonations more by subtle suggestion and comic inference. In its own way, his characters are every bit as effective. His Joe Pesci is a totally scary, psychopathic character. His Al Pacino is slowly drowing himself in a pool of morbid self-doubt. Great characterisations.

Some of John Session's best characters are missing from this movie. His blimp-like Marlon Brando, who seems to move himself about by farting a lot, is nowhere to be seen, nor his alligator-skinned Roger Moore and his very sensitive Dirk Bogarde. But there's enough here to go on with.

This movie-version of Stella Street is somewhat drawn-out compared to the first two series' of the snappy, exhilaratingly insane television series. But those first two series' are not available on DVD. Until they are, the film is just great to have, to have and hold all the stellar characters who make up the suburban world of Stella Street.

The feature movie is in highest-quality anamorphic widescreen, with luscious colour when required, but also rendering extremely well the dismal greys which make up the typical English landscape. The colour contrasts are strong and shadow details are excellent.

The Dolby Digital 5.1 sound is well engineered as a never-dominant but always strongly supporting feature of the movie, which is reliant on its dialogue and character acting for its appeal.

The extras are probably the strongest feature of the disc. They're as important as the movie, and are presented in a wonderfully imaginative way.

Linger on the four animated menus (one for scenes, three for special features) and each tells a short story of its own. After the movie, move onto the first special feature menu, where we're given a Making Of documentary, presented by the lads in their Stella Street characters.

Then there's a special television presentation of a British series, Lost Movie Classics, where special guest Michael Caine reminisces about making a long-lost safari masterpiece, Bongo in the Congo. Sadly, the film is completely lost, including its many nude scenes, done with real integrity of course, not for cheap exploitative purposes. But, thankfully, the trailer survives, showing Caine shooting a tribe of bloodthirsty gorillas, looking at rivers, looking at girls, looking at his wallet.

Then we move onto the second special features menu, for a seven-minute featurette giving us a cab-ride with Michael through Soho, Caine's Soho of the 1960s, when he shared a flat with Terry Stamp. Very funny stuff here. A very short featurette Jimmy Up West lets us follow soccer-nut Jimmy Hill on a visit to London, complete with his soccer-ball. He kicks it around in a deserted alley, looks into sporting goods shop windows, then it's back to his busy life in Surbiton.

And then we have a special feature on Len McMonotoney, the mad Geordie gardener. Len and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance gives us a grab-bag of his observations on friendship, movies, love, filmmakers, cameramen, motorcycle maintenance, life and gardening. All seem to involve lighting things, preferably people.

The final menu gives us the real thing - a special music video by Mick and Keith, Corner Shop, with Mick doing some of the best pouting since Honky-Tonk Women.

The disc is rounded out by an optional audio commentary from Phil and John, which is one of the rare commentaries actually well worth listening to. Marvel at how Phil accidentally (well, it seems accidental, but it's probably carefully thought out) slips into the voice characterisations of the various characters while he discusses them. After listening to this, I think there's a good chance that we're being had. There is no Phil. It's Maurice Micklewhite at it yet again.