Adapted from Andrew Klavan's bestselling suspense novel, Don't Say a Word is a suitable companion to director Gary Fleder's earlier hit Kiss the Girls, with solid performances serving a plot that begins promisingly. The tension starts when the daughter of a top-notch New York psychiatrist (Michael Douglas) is kidnapped by a bitter ex-con (Sean Bean) with an old score to settle. Aided by an unwitting colleague (Oliver Platt), Douglas can save his daughter by extracting crucial information from a traumatised patient (Brittany Murphy), while his bedridden wife (Famke Janssen) and a tenacious detective (Jennifer Esposito) do their part to solve the mystery. Fleder pushes all the routine buttons with effectively sombre style and Don't Say a Word will satisfy anyone with a preference for high-anxiety thrillers. Even as it grows increasingly conventional, it's still entertaining without being particularly original. As a by-the-book programmer, it's just right for rainy-day viewing. -Jeff Shannon.

For all the slasher pictures that have ripped off Psycho (and particularly its classic set piece, the "shower scene"), nothing has ever matched the impact of the real thing. More than just a first-rate shocker full of thrills and suspense, Psycho is also an engrossing character study in which director Alfred Hitchcock skilfully seduces you into identifying with the main characters-then pulls the rug (or the bathmat) out from under you. Anthony Perkins is unforgettable as Norman Bates, the mama's boy proprietor of the Bates Motel; and so is Janet Leigh as Marion Crane, who makes an impulsive decision and becomes a fugitive from the law, hiding out at Norman's roadside inn for one fateful night. -Jim Emerson.

From the opening scene of Way of the Gun, writer and first time director Christopher McQuarrie (who also penned Academy Award winner The Usual Suspects) plays with the audience's allegiances: the guys who would be heroes (Benicio Del Torro and Ryan Phillippe) are immediately shown to have qualities which make us hesitate in supporting their cause-they punch women in the face. Del Torro and Phillippe are criminals and chancers. During a trip to a clinic to donate sperm (for a fee, natch), they prick up their ears when they overhear a conversation about a surrogate mother and her very wealthy sponsors. Soon they have kidnapped heavily pregnant Robyn (Juliette Lewis) and made off towards Mexico to wait out the rest of the gestation period. Inevitably, complications arise. What they don't realise is that would-be father, Hale Chidduck (Scott Wilson) is a criminal overlord whose many employees are determined not to see their master lose his money or his baby. James Caan plays Chidduck's right-hand man with avuncular charm. Like McQuarrie's earlier Usual Suspects script, this pacey yarn is full of complex twists and turns, with all manner of visual clues given in a look or a gesture. These subtleties and the squeak-and-you'll-miss-it dialogue keep audience involvement at a high level. The film is also full of beautifully put together set pieces edited with precision and wit-most memorable are a suspenseful low speed car chase and the shoot out at the film's climax. [+]

When John Travolta first opens his mouth during the opening credits of The General's Daughter and speaks in a terrible Southern cracker drawl, one briefly hopes the movie will turn out to be just as hilariously bad. Unfortunately, the accent is soon revealed to be part of a disguise, and the movie is just as quickly unveiled as a clumsy, run-of-the-mill potboiler, too mediocre to be truly hysterical fun. A female officer is discovered strangled and tied to the ground; she's the title character, and because of the general's political ambitions, the mystery of who did it and why has to be wrapped up in 36 hours by Travolta and fellow CID officer Madeleine Stowe (Last of the Mohicans, 12 Monkeys). Sexual violence and lurid S&M have been thrown in to shore up the incomprehensible plot, but that only adds to the queasy atmosphere. The supporting actors-an impressive collection including James Woods (Salvador), Timothy Hutton (Ordinary People), and James Cromwell (Babe, L. A. Confidential)-don't embarrass themselves, but even they can't make sense of their blustering, macho dialogue. It's amazing that, screenwriter William Goldman (who wrote such great and genuinely thrilling films as Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, Marathon Man, All the President's Men and Misery) left his name attached to this script; there's no sign of his usual skill and intelligence. Madeleine Stowe, a graceful presence in any film, is equally wasted. It was directed with a lot of empty flash by Simon West (Con Air). [+]

Yes, he's back. and he's still hungry. Hannibal is set 10 years after The Silence of the Lambs, as Dr Hannibal "the Cannibal" Lecter (Anthony Hopkins, reprising his Oscar-winning role) is living the good life in Italy, studying art and sipping espresso. FBI agent Clarice Starling (Julianne Moore, replacing Jodie Foster), on the other hand, hasn't had it so good-an outsider from the start, she's now a quiet, moody loner who doesn't play bureaucratic games and suffers for it. A botched drug raid results in her demotion-and a request from Lecter's only living victim, Mason Verger (Gary Oldman, uncredited), for a little Q and A. Little does Clarice realise that the hideously deformed Verger-who, upon suggestion from Dr Lecter, peeled off his own face-is using her as bait to lure Dr Lecter out of hiding, quite certain he'll capture the good doctor. Taking the basic plot contraptions from Thomas Harris's baroque novel, Hannibal is so stylistically different from its predecessor that it forces you to take it on its own terms. Director Ridley Scott gives the film a sleek, almost European look that lets you know that, unlike the first film (which was about the quintessentially American Clarice), this movie is all Hannibal. [+]

Alfred Hitchcock considered this 1943 thriller to be his personal favourite among his own films, and although it's not as popular as some of Hitchcock's later work, it's certainly worthy of the master's admiration. Scripted by playwright Thornton Wilder and inspired by the actual case of a 1920s serial killer known as "The Merry Widow Murderer," Shadow of a Doubt sets a tone of menace and fear by introducing a psychotic killer into the small-town comforts of Santa Rosa, California. That's where young Charlie (Teresa Wright) lives with her parents and two younger siblings, and where murder is little more than a topic of morbid conversation for their mystery-buff neighbour (Hume Cronyn). Charlie was named after her favourite uncle, who has just arrived for an extended visit, and at first Uncle Charlie (Joseph Cotten) gets along famously with his admiring niece. But the film's chilling prologue has already revealed Uncle Charlie's true identity as the notorious Merry Widow Murderer, and the suspense grows almost unbearable when young Charlie's trust gives way to gradual dread and suspicion. Through narrow escapes and a climactic scene aboard a speeding train, this witty thriller strips away the fa ade of small-town tranquillity to reveal evil where it's least expected. And, of course, it's all done in pure Hitchcockian style. -Jeff Shannon.

Rules of Engagement opens strongly with a Vietnam battle sequence that sets the stage for the rest of the story. But then director William Friedkin knows a thing or two about staging harrowing action sequences, and if you don't believe that, you've never seen The French Connectionor To Live and Die in LA. Unfortunately, Friedkin can't do much about the implausible plot that follows, in which the Marine commander, played by the always-terrific Samuel L Jackson, is accused of slaughtering innocent civilians (who actually were shooting at him and his men). He must rely on an old Marine buddy-a lawyer played by Tommy Lee Jones-to get him through the jury-rigged court martial. But the central premise-that an evil presidential aide would perjure himself and destroy evidence simply to maintain good relations with US allies in the Middle East, rather than defending a highly decorated Marine colonel who risked his life-is inevitably hard to swallow. And the ending is even flimsier. -Marshall Fine, Amazon. com.

Robert Clayton Dean (Will Smith) is a lawyer with a wife and family whose happily normal life is turned upside down after a chance meeting with a college buddy (Jason Lee) at a lingerie shop. Unbeknownst to the lawyer, he's just been burdened with a videotape of a congressman's assassination. Hot on the tail of this tape is a ruthless group of National Security Agents commanded by a belligerently ambitious fed named Reynolds (Jon Voight). Using surveillance from satellites, bugs and other sophisticated snooping devices, the NSA infiltrates every facet of Dean's existence, tracing each physical and digital footprint he leaves. Driven by acute paranoia, Dean enlists the help of a clandestine former NSA operative named Brill (Gene Hackman) and Enemy of the State kicks into high-intensity hyperdrive. Teaming up once again with producer Jerry Bruckheimer, Top Gun director Tony Scott demonstrates his glossy style with clever cinematography and breakneck pacing. Will Smith proves that there's more to his success than a brash sense of humour, giving a versatile performance that plausibly illustrates a man cracking under the strain of paranoid turmoil. Hackman steals the show by essentially reprising his role from The Conversation-just imagine his memorable character Harry Caul some 20 years later. Most of all, the film's depiction of high-tech surveillance is highly convincing and dramatically compelling, making this a cautionary tale with more substance than you'd normally expect from a Scott-Bruckheimer action extravaganza. -Jeremy Storey.

Not enough people went to see True Crime in cinemas. Wasn't Clint Eastwood too old to be playing a guy who a variety of glorious women, from the middle-aged Diane Venora and Laila Robins to the young Mary McCormack and Lucy Liu, find attractive? Could the onetime Man with No Name credibly play a brilliant crime reporter, Steve Everett, with an ironic turn of phrase and an incurable habit of screwing up both his personal and professional lives? The respective answers to those questions are: hell no and hell yes. True Crime features one of Eastwood's best and most entertaining performances-and his work as director is utterly assured. The story (from Andrew Klavan's bestselling novel) gives Everett the last-minute assignment of interviewing a condemned man (Isaiah Washington) on the eve of his execution. The prisoner, a born-again Christian and exemplary family man, has everything the reporter lacks except a shot at seeing the next sunrise. Everett sets out to get him that, yet far from making a beeline to the exculpatory evidence that will save the life of his "client," this very tarnished hero has to spend a lot of the next 24 hours contending with the baggage he's accumulated through drinking, wenching and familial neglect. (A Pirandellian note: Everett's daughter is played by Eastwood's own daughter, Francesca Fisher-Eastwood, and her mother, Frances Fisher, returns for a feisty cameo as a prosecutor. ) This is a good one that got away. Don't let it happen again. -Richard T Jameson.

Rich with ambiguity, this smooth adaptation of Scott Turow's bestselling mystery novel stars Harrison Ford as Rusty Sabich, the prosecuting attorney assigned to a case involving the murder of a beautiful, seductive lawyer (Greta Scacchi) with whom he'd been having a secret affair. After the investigation gets off to a slow start, damning evidence points to Rusty as the prime suspect. His career is destroyed when his superior and secondary suspect Raymond Horgan (Brian Dennehy) sets him up for the fall. Bonnie Bedelia plays Rusty's wife Barbara, who is not above suspicion herself. While Ford's performance rides a fine line between presumed innocence and possible guilt, director Alan J Pakula (All the President's Men) maintains a consistent tone of uncertainty that keeps the viewer guessing. -Jeff Shannon, Amazon. com.

Described by director Mark Pellington as "a psychological mystery with naturally surreal overtones", The Mothman Prophecies begins like an ambitious episode of The X-Files. Richard Gere brings adequate torment, portent, and ambiguity to his role as a Washington Post reporter and grieving widower plagued by a mysterious, unseen urban legend known as the Mothman. Pellington develops subtle doom and gloom that's as effective as the paranoid streak he brought to Arlington Road. As the Mothman terrifies a West Virginia town, he remains an enigma, glimpsed almost subliminally. This-along with a magnificently creepy soundtrack-amplifies the movie's surreal overtones while keeping everything else (unsettling phone calls, prophesied disasters, suggestions of the afterlife) completely unexplained. With Laura Linney and Debra Messing in underdeveloped roles, The Mothman Prophecies feels a bit underdeveloped itself (and ends in desperate need of Mulder and Scully). But if you like your weirdness open-ended, this moody thriller's worth a look. -Jeff Shannon.

From its cleverly choreographed opening sequence to its heart-stopping climax on a rampant carousel, this 1951 Hitchcock classic readily earns its reputation as one of the director's finest examples of timeless cinematic suspense. It's not just a ripping-good thriller but a film student's delight and a perversely enjoyable battle of wits between tennis pro Guy (Farley Granger) and his mysterious, sycophantic admirer, Bruno (Robert Walker), who proposes a "criss-cross" scheme of traded murders. Bruno agrees to kill Guy's unfaithful wife, in return for which Guy will (or so it seems) kill Bruno's spiteful father. With an emphasis on narrative and visual strategy, Hitchcock controls the escalating tension with a master's flair for cinematic design, and the plot (coscripted by Raymond Chandler) is so tightly constructed that you'll be white-knuckled even after multiple viewings. Strangers on a Train remains one of Hitchcock's crowning achievements and a suspenseful classic that never loses its capacity to thrill and delight. -Jeff Shannon.

Going Off Big Time is a British gangster thriller laced with post-Lock Stock and Two Smoking Barrels humour, yet free of that film's flash visual gimmickry and populated with convincingly real characters. Opening with a scene of violence and mayhem in a pub, the film unfolds in flashback as Mark Clayton (Neil Fitzmaurice, who also wrote the economical screenplay), recounts to his lawyer how bad luck and worse judgement turned this ordinary young man first into a hardened con, then into a small-time gangster. The prison sequences feature a masterly performance by Bernard Hill as the older con who shows Mark the ropes; the second half charts Clayton's rise to power taking over nightclub doors, running protection scams and, comically, dealing drugs from an ice-cream van. The style is plain vanilla with the rundown Liverpool settings giving a stark northern atmosphere somewhere between Get Carter (1971) and The Fully Monty (1997). It's small scale, unambitious stuff, and though Fitzmaurice packs plenty of plot into 83 minutes, more of Mark's romance with Natasha (Gabbi Barr) and his attempt to go straight would have lent the ending greater impact. The strong performances by a cast of almost entirely unknown actors are the best thing about the film. On the DVD: The anamorphically enhanced 2. 35:1 image is sharp and detailed, though rather grainy in night-time scenes. The Dolby Digital 5. 1 soundtrack doesn't get a lot to do but presents sounds with natural clarity. [+]

Paul Newman and Julie Andrews star in Torn Curtain, what must unfortunately be called one of Alfred Hitchcock's lesser efforts. Still, sub-par Hitchcock is better than a lot of what's out there, and this one is well worth a look. Newman plays cold-war physicist Michael Armstrong, while Andrews plays his lovely assistant-and-fiancée Sarah Sherman. Armstrong has been working on a missile defence system that will "make nuclear defence obsolete", and naturally both sides are very interested. All Sarah cares about is the fact that Michael has been acting awfully fishy lately. The suspense of Torn Curtain is by nature not as thrilling as that in the average Hitchcock film-much of it involves sitting still and wondering if the bad guys are getting closer. Still, Hitchcock manages to amuse himself: there is some beautifully clever camera work and an excruciating sequence that illustrates the frequent Hitchcock point that death is not a tidy business. -Ali Davis.

It's not unusual for Hollywood to remake European hits. What is unusual is the director of the original getting the chance to helm the new version with an American cast, which is what happened with this film based on an intensely creepy Dutch film of the same name (both directed by George Sluizer). Kiefer Sutherland and Sandra Bullock are on vacation when, while stopped at a crowded rest area, she disappears. He devotes the next several years to discovering what happened to her, ruining his life in the process. When he does get a clue, it leads him to Jeff Bridges, who plays a bizarre and highly organized individual whose motives are almost as strange as he is. Bridges is spooky, but Sluizer ultimately is undone by Hollywood's demand for a happy ending, which makes this film affecting but far less unsettling than the original. -Marshall Fine Forget Hitchcock, forget Brian De Palma, The Vanishing is one of the scariest, most disturbing thrillers ever made. Yet there's not a knife, a gun, or a drop of blood in sight. The terror in George Sluizer's film is wholly psychological, insidiously uncoiling itself before our incredulous eyes. A young Dutch couple on holiday in France stop at a motorway service station, where the girl inexplicably vanishes. [+]

By the time Alfred Hitchcock's second-to-last picture came out in 1972, the censorship restrictions under which he had laboured during his long career had eased up. Now he could give full sway to his lurid fantasies, and that may explain why Frenzy is the director's most violent movie by far-outstripping even Psycho for sheer brutality. Adapted by playwright Anthony Shaffer, the story concerns a series of rape-murders committed by suave fruit-merchant Bob Rusk (Barry Foster), who gets his kicks from throttling women with a necktie. This being a Hitchcock thriller, suspicion naturally falls on the wrong man-ill-tempered publican Richard Blaney (Jon Finch). Enter Inspector Oxford from New Scotland Yard (Alex McCowan), who thrashes out the finer points of the case with his wife (Vivian Merchant), whose tireless enthusiasm for indigestible delicacies like quail with grapes supplies a classic running gag. Frenzy was the first film Hitchcock had shot entirely in his native Britain since Jamaica Inn (1939), and many contemporary critics used that fact to account for what seemed to them a glorious return to form after a string of Hollywood duds (Marnie, Torn Curtain, Topaz). Hitchcock specialists are often less wild about it, judging the detective plot mechanical and the oh-so-English tone insufferable. But at least three sequences rank among the most skin-crawling the maestro ever put on celluloid. There is an astonishing moment when the camera backs away from a room in which a murder is occurring, down the stairs, through the front door and then across the street to join the crowd milling indifferently on the pavement. There is also the killer's nerve-wracking attempt to retrieve his tiepin from a corpse stuffed into a sack of potatoes. [+]

This film, which again pairs Richard Gere and Kim Basinger (who starred in 1986's No Mercy), offers up elements of classic noir: a hapless man becomes intimately involved with a beautiful blonde who may or may not be who or what she appears to be. Dedicated psychiatrist Isaac Barr (Gere) reluctantly, and then more obsessively, becomes involved with Heather Evans (Basinger), the sister of his patient, Diana Baylor (Uma Thurman). Evans is unhappily married to a gangster (appropriately played by a muscular and menacing Eric Roberts in a trademark role). Gere and Basinger make a credible, if dangerous couple, and Thurman delivers a subtle, understated performance and demonstrates her range and potential. The thriller is appropriately shot in gorgeous San Francisco, where the literal and figurative curving and hilly roads wind throughout. Credit legendary art director Dean Tavoularis for some amazing sets and scenes, notably the elegantly cavernous restaurant where Evans and her husband have a fateful dinner. This film is, in a way, glossy director Phil Joanou's Hitchcockian tribute-as a climactic lighthouse scene best demonstrates. Final Analysis doesn't offer an intimate look at its characters, but a beautifully stylized one, moody and gloomy. The intricate plot experiments with the device of "pathological intoxication," in which the subject completely loses control after drinking alcohol. And this doesn't mean a conventional ugly drunk; it means a frightening psychotic. [+]

You can take this 1992 thriller one of two ways: it's either a highly suspenseful movie about an unfortunate young woman's psychological breakdown, or it's a glossy slasher movie starring two of Hollywood's best young actresses. Or maybe it's both at the same time-or perhaps it's the clever and well-acted thriller for its first hour before resorting to the routine shocks of a cheap horror flick. However you look at it, there's no denying that this is a dynamite showcase for Jennifer Jason Leigh as the flatmate from hell who becomes the bane of Bridget Fonda's existence. First she picks up Fonda's mannerisms, then starts to borrow her wardrobe, cuts her hair to resemble Fonda's, and even "borrows" her roommate's boyfriend for a deceitful night of lovemaking. By that point Fonda's totally freaking out (wouldn't you?), and, well, that's when the whole thing gets a little too silly. Still, this is a nifty little shocker, and director Barbet Schroeder brings more intelligence and style to the material than it really deserves. Add that to the fine performances by the battling roommates and you've got a movie that will make you think twice before inviting total strangers to live with you. -Jeff Shannon, Amazon. com.

Michael Crichton's bestselling novel was both a high-tech thriller and source of controversy with its hot-button plot about a man's charge of sexual harassment against a female colleague and former lover. The movie, directed by Barry Levinson, turned these issues into a prurient thriller dressed up in glossy production values, virtual reality computer graphics and steamy sex between Michael Douglas and Demi Moore. Having cornered the market on roles for men whose brains are located south of their waistline, Douglas is well cast as the computer-industry guy who loses a plush promotion to the opportunistic Moore, and he's perfected the expression of paranoid panic. If you don't think about it too much, this is one of those films that can draw you into its manipulative web and really grab your attention. Disclosure is more entertaining than thought provoking (because the filmmakers basically danced around the story's potential controversy), but there's enough star power and visual glitz to make this an enjoyable ride. -Jeff Shannon.