Cross It's A Wonderful Life with ET and Invasion Of The Body Snatchers and you'll get something close to these entertaining and occasionally grotesque tales from producer Steven Spielberg, writer Chris Columbus and director Joe Dante. In the first film we meet Billy Peltzer (played by Zach Galligan), a young man whose inventor father (Hoyt Axton) gives him an odd Christmas present in the shape of a tiny, adorable furry creature called a Mogwai, which is named Gizmo. The pet comes with a set of rules: don't get him wet, don't feed him after midnight and keep him away from direct sunlight. But Galligan breaks the first rule and the damp little critter pops out a dozen smaller offspring. Then the offspring break the second rule and, overnight, turn from cute furry guys to malevolent scale-covered trolls with world domination on their mind. The only way to stop them: rule three. But it's an anxious (and extremely funny) battle to make it to daylight, with the bad gremlins finding ingenious ways to multiply over and over until they're a force to be reckoned with. In the sequel, Zach Galligan is back, along with Phoebe Cates, his girlfriend from the first film. They're both working in an ultramodern skyscraper owned by a Donald Trump clone (a hilarious John Glover). Galligan's furry little buddy is captured by a mad scientist, who not only helps it multiply, but invests the nasty, scaly offspring with intelligence and the ability to talk. [+]

Put that cynical look away, because the critics were right. 28 Weeks Later really is a sequel that delivers, that expands on the original, and in many ways even surpasses it. Faithful in many ways to the enjoyable, if derivative, 28 Days Later, this sequel sees original director Danny Boyle (who went off to make Sunshine instead) replaced by Juan Carlos Fresnadillo behind the camera(director of the excellent Spanish film Intacto). And Fresnadillo is an inspired choice, putting together a film that's not bereft of flaws of its own, but one that proves to be an ambitious and surprisingly thought-provoking follow-up. Many of the building blocks are the same. Primarily set over six months after the Rage virus engulfed Britain, turning many of its inhabitants into deadly zombie-esque creatures in the process, the film this time though sees the American military arrive to help sort things out. Only things quickly go wrong, allowing Fresnadillo to mould a pacey, exciting and desperately enjoyable action carnival, that's got a little more under the surface. Grounded by Robert Carlyle as one of the survivors of the virus, replete with his kids in tow, 28 Weeks Later skilfully navigates the labyrinth of sequel hell and really, really delivers. What's more, it opens up the enticing possibility of a further sequel, and on the evidence of this film, that's a very welcome thought. 28 Weeks Later, like its predecessor, isn't a film for the faint-hearted, and wholesome family entertainment it absolutely isn't. [+]

George A Romero continues his revival of his iconic zombie franchise with Diary Of The Dead, the fifth film in a series that kicked off back in 1968 with Night Of The Living Dead. And while his latest doesn't manage to match the heights of the earlier films, there's still something refreshing about watching a genuine master of the genre at work. This time around then, Diary Of The Dead heads a little back to basics, with a film that follows a group of amateur filmmakers who find themselves under siege from zombies, allowing the legendary director to take some less-than-subtle swipes at the YouTube generation. Sadly, his cast don't help him very much, ringing in primarily forgettable performances, and this certainly nullifies some of the points that Romero tries to make. Yet when it comes to the zombie action, there's no number you'd call faster than Romero's, and here's where the great man delivers. Diary Of The Dead does work along the law of diminishing returns, and is the weakest of the series, but it's not without a general collection of skilful moments that fans of the genre won't want to miss. Diary Of The Dead isn't a film that you need to have seen the others before it to appreciate, but it is a primarily quite ordinary film from an often-extraordinary director. That said, it still easily eclipses the army of imitators of recent times (the splendid zombie romantic comedy Shaun Of The Dead excepted, of course), and has more than enough horror to fill an empty night. -Jon Foster.

Horror maestro Tom Holland (Fright Night) brought wit and devilish energy to this 1988 scarefest about a murderer (Brad Dourif) who wills his soul into an innocuous doll named Chucky, and reveals himself only to the toy's owner, a frightened little boy. Catherine Hicks plays the child's mother, and Chris Sarandon a detective; neither of them knows what to make of the kid's story. Monster-doll stories are always wonderfully surreal, and Child's Play is no exception. Holland oversees some finely tuned special effects that allow Chucky to express himself and do some damage-it is truly unnerving but somehow good, subversive fun. -Tom Keogh.

If you're after something a bit more magical than the current crop of gory, torturous horror movies, this Guillermo del Toro Collection might be just what you're looking for. Del Toro weaves together dark fairy tales with bleak reality in each of these three movies, creating films which are clever, beautiful and incredibly haunting. Although del Toro has made more high profile movies-Hellboy and Blade 2, specifically-his Spanish language movies are clearly his real passion. More personal than his superhero movies, each of these films has something to say. The earliest of the movies is Cronos. Released in 1993, it's a story of family loyalties as well as alchemy and vampirism. 2001's The Devil's Backbone sees a group of orphans battling for survival in a world populated by bullies and ghosts, with war torn Spain providing a stunning background; while Pan's Labyrinth, released in 2006 to critical acclaim, mingles real life politics and social drama with fantasy and magic to create a masterpiece. Pan's Labyrinth won three Oscars, though it also deserved the other three it was also nominated for. With each successive film, Del Toro's filmmaking has grown ever more mature and powerful, and this boxset perfectly showcases an incredible talent. -Sarah Dobbs.

After years of rumours, it turns out that Tim Burton was the perfect visionary to film Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street, Stephen Sondheim's Broadway masterpiece, and the result is a macabre and moving musical movie as enthralling as anything Burton has ever done. The show's mix of gothic horror, Grand Guignol, very dark humor, and witty and beautiful music never was the stuff of traditional musical comedy, but it's a powerful work, and perhaps the richest of the late 20th century. In the movie, Burton's frequent collaborator, Johnny Depp, plays Todd, a wronged man whose lust for revenge drives him to murder (an 19th-century legend who has been traced to a real-life barber). Helena Bonham Carter, another Burton mainstay, is Mrs. Lovett, the barber's partner-in-unspeakable-crime. It's no surprise that Depp is an excellent choice to convey Todd's brooding intensity and volcanic rage, but he can also sing a score that is so challenging it has often played in opera houses (though not with the same style as the Broadway original, Len Cariou, and he occasionally lapses into pop style). Bonham Carter is small of voice and lacks the humour of the original Broadway Lovett, Angela Lansbury, but she sings on pitch, in rhythm, and in character at the same time, which is no small feat for a Sondheim show. Aficionados will regret the loss of certain musical passages-"The Ballad of Sweeney Todd" is just an instrumental overture and the chorus is gone altogether, among others, but the reassuring presence of orchestrator Jonathan Tunick and conductor Paul Gemignani ensures that the music feels right and sounds great. And the film's depiction of a Victorian London hellhole, with cinematography by Dariusz Wolski and costumes by Colleen Atwood, also looks and feels right. The excellent cast is filled out by Alan Rickman as the villainous Judge Turpin, Timothy Spall as his seedy Beadle, Sacha Baron Cohen as a rival barber, Jamie Campbell Bower as the young lover Anthony, Jayne Wisener as his object of affection, and Ed Sanders as the young Toby. [+]

Inspired by the Brothers Grimm, Jorge Luis Borges, and Guillermo del Toro's own unlimited imagination, Pan's Labyrinth is a fairytale for adults. Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) may only be 12, but the worlds she inhabits, both above and below ground, are dark as anything del Toro has conjured. Set in rural Spain, circa 1944, Ofelia and her widowed mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil, Belle Epoque), have just moved into an abandoned mill with Carmen's new husband, Captain Vidal (Sergi López, With a Friend like Harry). Carmen is pregnant with his son. Other than her sickly mother and kindly housekeeper Mercedes (Maribel Verdú, Y Tu Mamá También), the dreamy Ofelia is on her own. Vidal, an exceedingly cruel man, couldn't be bothered. He has informers to torture. Ofelia soon finds that an entire universe exists below the mill. Her guide is the persuasive Faun (Doug Jones, Mimic). As her mother grows weaker, Ofelia spends more and more time in the satyr's labyrinth. [+]

Though Hannibal Rising's Lecter (Gaspard Ulliel) is a pussycat compared to Anthony Hopkins in Silence of the Lambs, this sequel's story of revenge is grizzly enough to satisfy lovers of Thomas Harris's epic tale. After young Hannibal (Aaron Thomas) is forced to watch his little sister, Mischa (Helena Lia Tachovska), devoured by starving soldiers in his homeland Lithuania, Hannibal vows to avenge his sister's death by slaying those who committed not only war crimes against the Lecters, but also against other families during WW II. In detailing Hannibal's revenge plan, the film investigates the psychological implications of witnessing cannibalism to justify Hannibal's insatiable appetite for human flesh. The most interesting aspect of Hannibal Rising-its analytical connections drawn between Hannibal's childhood traumas and his murderous adult obsessions-is also the film's weak point. The links oversimplify Lecter's complex character. For example, though titillating to see flashbacks of Lecter's sister hacked up and boiled while Lecter visits a Parisian meat market, the reference is too obvious. One learns why he excels in his medical school classes dissecting cadavers, and we're given explicit explanation for why he slices off and eats his victims' cheeks. The story only complicates when Hannibal interacts with his sexy Aunt, Lady Murasaki (Gong Li). When Murasaki educates him in the art of beheading, the viewer sees Hannibal's sword fetish as a manifestation of physical lust. -Trinie Dalton.

The inevitable sequel to one of the decade's most intriguing and well-made horror films, Hostel Part II, as the title implies, picks up pretty much where the last film left off. And it doesn't take too long for the sequel to find the same groove that earned its predecessor so much attention. The setting is once again an underground club, where people bid for the right to torture residents at the hostel of the title. Hostel Part II, however, lets us see events from the other perspective too, as we meet the wealthy businessmen who are availing themselves of the club's services. It's a logical dynamic for the movie, and it does bring a fresh perspective to a film that does eventually settle down to a cavalcade of gore and shock. As a director, Eli Roth has clearly improved since last time around, even if this time he too often succumbs to the temptation to show rather than imply, and Hostel Part II as a result feels a little less fresh and more uncomfortable than its predecessor. Yet it's most certainly an unsettling piece of cinema, and one likely to find favour with Roth's increasing fanbase. A word of warning, though. Hostel Part II isn't shy about pulling its punches, and it very much justifies its 18 certificate. It's also a cut above many of its modern day contemporaries in the genre, even though it fails to measure up to part one. [+]

When Randy the video geek rattles off the rules of surviving a horror movie in Wes Craven's Scream, he speaks for a generation of filmgoers who are all too aware of slasher-movie clichés. Playfully scripted by Kevin Williamson with a self-aware wink and more than a few nods to its grandfathers (from Psycho to Halloween to the Friday the 13th dynasty), Scream skewers teen horror conventions with loving reverence while re-creating them in a modern, movie-savvy context. And so goes the series, which continues the satirical spoofing by tackling (what else?) sequels while sustaining its own self-contained mythology. Catty reporter Gale Weathers (Courteney Cox) turns grisly murders into lurid best-sellers, a cult of killer wannabes continues to hunt spunky psycho-survivor Sydney Prescott (Neve Campbell) for their 15 minutes of fame, and a cheesy movie series (Stab) develops within the movie series. Scream remains the high point of the series-a fresh take on a genre long since collapsed into routine, but Scream 2 spoofs itself wittily ("Why would anyone want to do that? Sequels suck!" opines college film student Randy), and delights with more elaborate set-pieces and all-new rules for surviving a horror movie sequel. The endangered veterans of the original film reunite one last time for Scream 3, which plays out on the movie set of Stab 3 (it's a trilogy within a trilogy!). With Williamson gone, replacement screenwriter Ehran Kruger tries to mine the formula one more time. It's a little tired by now, and pale imitations (Urban Legend, I Know What You Did Last Summer) have further drained the zeitgeist, but the film bubbles with bright humour and director Craven is stylistically at the top of his game. As a trilogy, it remains both the most consistently entertaining and self-aware horror series ever made. -Sean Axmaker, Amazon. [+]

With an ingenious script, engaging characters, nerve-shredding suspense, genuinely frightening set-pieces and laugh-out-loud funny bits An American Werewolf in London is a prime candidate for the finest horror-comedy ever made. Americans David (David Naughton) and Jack (Griffin Dunne) are backpacking in northern England when Jack is killed by a wild beast and David is bitten. Back in London David finds himself falling in love with a nurse, Alex (played with winning charm by Jenny Agutter), and turning into a werewolf. Adding to his problems, an increasingly decomposed Jack keeps coming back from the dead, and he is not a happy corpse. The Oscar winning make-up and transformation scenes still look good and rather than send itself up Werewolf plays its horror seriously, the laughs coming naturally from the surreal situation. Naughton is engagingly confused and disbelieving, desperately coping with the ever more nightmarish world, while Landis delivers one absolutely stunning dream sequence, an unbearably tense hunt on the London Underground and a breathtaking finale. Gory, erotic, shocking and romantic, this unforgettable horror classic has it all. Tom Holland's Fright Night (1985) remixed the formula with vampires, as did Landis himself in Innocent Blood (1992). A disappointing sequel, An American Werewolf in Paris, followed in 1997. -Gary S Dalkin.

Inspired by the Brothers Grimm, Jorge Luis Borges, and Guillermo del Toro's own unlimited imagination, Pan's Labyrinth is a fairytale for adults. Ofelia (Ivana Baquero) may only be 12, but the worlds she inhabits, both above and below ground, are dark as anything del Toro has conjured. Set in rural Spain, circa 1944, Ofelia and her widowed mother, Carmen (Ariadna Gil, Belle Epoque), have just moved into an abandoned mill with Carmen's new husband, Captain Vidal (Sergi López, With a Friend like Harry). Carmen is pregnant with his son. Other than her sickly mother and kindly housekeeper Mercedes (Maribel Verdú, Y Tu Mamá También), the dreamy Ofelia is on her own. Vidal, an exceedingly cruel man, couldn't be bothered. He has informers to torture. Ofelia soon finds that an entire universe exists below the mill. Her guide is the persuasive Faun (Doug Jones, Mimic). As her mother grows weaker, Ofelia spends more and more time in the satyr's labyrinth. [+]

Certain to remain one of the greatest haunted-house movies ever made, Robert Wise's The Haunting (1963) is antithetical to all the gory horror films of subsequent decades, because its considerable frights remain implicitly rooted in the viewer's sensitivity to abject fear. A classic spook-fest based on Shirley Jackson's novel The Haunting of Hill House (which also inspired the 1999 remake directed by Jan de Bont), the film begins with a prologue that concisely establishes the dark history of Hill House, a massive New England mansion (actually filmed in England) that will play host to four daring guests determined to investigate-and hopefully debunk-the legacy of death and ghostly possession that has given the mansion its terrifying reputation. Consumed by guilt and grief over her mother's recent death and driven to adventure by her belief in the supernatural, Eleanor Vance (Julie Harris) is the most unstable-and therefore the most vulnerable-visitor to Hill House. She's invited there by anthropologist Dr. Markway (Richard Johnson), along with the bohemian lesbian Theodora (Claire Bloom), who has acute extra-sensory abilities, and glib playboy Luke Sanderson (Russ Tamblyn, from Wise's West Side Story), who will gladly inherit Hill House if it proves to be hospitable. Of course, the shadowy mansion is anything but welcoming to its unwanted intruders. Strange noises, from muffled wails to deafening pounding, set the stage for even scarier occurrences, including a door that appears to breathe (with a slowly turning doorknob that's almost unbearably suspenseful), unexplained writing on walls, and a delicate spiral staircase that seems to have a life of its own. The genius of The Haunting lies in the restraint of Wise and screenwriter Nelson Gidding, who elicit almost all of the film's mounting terror from the psychology of its characters-particularly Eleanor, whose grip on sanity grows increasingly tenuous. The presence of lurking spirits relies heavily on the power of suggestion (likewise the cautious handling of Theodora's attraction to Eleanor) and the film's use of sound is more terrifying than anything Wise could have shown with his camera. Like Jack Clayton's 1961 chiller, The Innocents, The Haunting knows the value of planting the seeds of terror in the mind, as opposed to letting them blossom graphically on the screen. [+]

Like a roller coaster ready to fly off its rails, Van Helsing rockets to maximum velocity and never slows down. Having earned blockbuster clout with The Mummy and The Mummy Returns, writer-director Stephen Sommers once again plunders Universal's monster vault and pulls out all the stops for this mammoth $148-million action-adventure-horror-comedy, which opens (sans credits) with a terrific black-and-white prologue that pays homage to the Universal horror classics that inspired it. The plot pits legendary vampire hunter Van Helsing (Hugh Jackman) against Dracula (the deliciously campy Richard Roxburgh), his deadly blood-sucking brides, and the Wolfman (Will Kemp) in a two-hour parade of outstanding special effects (980 in all) that turn Sommers' juvenile plot into a triple-overtime bonus for CGI animators. In alliance with a Transylvanian princess (Kate Beckinsale) and the Frankenstein monster (Shuler Hensley), Van Helsing must prevent Dracula from hatching his bat-winged progeny, and there's so much good-humored action that you're guaranteed to be thrilled and exhausted by the time the 10-minute end-credits roll. It's loud, obnoxious, filled with revisionist horror folklore, and aimed at addicted gamers and eight-year-olds, but this colossal monster mash (including Mr. Hyde, just for kicks) will never, ever bore you. A sequel is virtually guaranteed. -Jeff Shannon.