Clark Collis

The result is a genuine space epic which also succeeds in being a very personal film, thanks in large part to Pitt’s performance.

The result is first-class throughout.

Under the Shadow is a skilled, chilling feature debut that might follow you around a while after seeing it.

Happy Death Day is directed with vim, vigor, and heart by Christopher Landon (Scouts Guide to the Zombie Apocalypse), and boasts a winning central performance from Rothe.

Horror fans should keep their eyes on the filmmakers — and Essoe, who gives a star-making performance.

Peckover’s sharp directing keeps things nicely nasty without ever going too far over the top — though it’s possible some gore-averse Scrooges may disagree. If you want to gift yourself a holiday film that decks the halls with blood, this is one to put under the tree.

Tusk lands close to Human Centipede territory in gross-out-ness — a warning, not a complaint — but it also has a genuinely haunting quality as Long's ties to humanity become ever more tenuous.

Once the lady in question is overturned by a freak tidal wave the tone shifts from unintentionally comedic to undeniably exciting as renegade priest Gene Hackman leads a motley band of souls (including Ernest Borgnine, Shelley Winters, and Roddy McDowall) on their upside down quest to escape from a watery grave.

Blessed with some firm hands on the terror tiller and a winning cast, Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark is a handsome, and deliciously horrible, horror movie.

Despite its epic length, The Wailing never bores as Na slathers his tale with generous supplies of atmosphere and awfulness.

Monsters is really a road-movie romance that tracks the burgeoning relationship between two strangers as they travel through the "infected" zone.

Unpredictability isn't this horror film's strength, but it's stylishly crafted and excellently acted, and it boasts an abundance of heart in every sense of the word.

The film’s real treat is its deep acting bench with franchise veterans Scott, Pill, Liev Schreiber, Kim Coates, and Marc-André Grondin joined by Elisha Cuthbert, TJ Miller, and, of course, Russell, a real-life former hockey pro whose troubled villain is worthy of a redemptive spin-off film.

If all this sounds like a souped-up episode of "The Twilight Zone" or "The X-Files," then you're in the right ballpark — or underground bunker.

This is the first Shyamalan movie in a long time that viewers may be tempted to re-visit just to see how he pulls off his magic trick.

Hale and Posey are likable leads and director Jeff Wadlow (Kick-Ass 2) injects proceedings with a propulsiveness which allows you to mostly ignore the odd plot strand which doesn’t really pay off or the general air of preposterousness.

Like "The Strangers," the result is a simple but skillfully told shocker.

Though not particularly ground-breaking — last year’s Elijah Wood-starring Open Windows pulled the same trick, and much more ambitiously — we’re still going to “like” the result.

While this Blumhouse production may be a less ruthlessly efficient scream machine than, say, its corporate sibling "Ouija," it is much more atmospheric and benefits from a winning central performance from Snook.

The result should appeal to Austen aficionados and horror hounds alike—which is not a sentence you get to write too often.

The first two thirds of Chef crackle with hunger-inducing imagery and laughter-provoking gags.

The Australian setting brings a fresh, and epic, quality to this now done-to-death genre, and the directors introduce a few nice new kinks to the zombie mythology, notably a desire on the part of the undead to literally — and hauntingly — bury their heads in the sand. But the real treat is Freeman.

Flanagan’s taut direction reinforces his rep as an up-and-comer we will hopefully be hearing much more from.

Finding Your Feet leans heavily on its cast of British screen greats. Luckily, Staunton, Imrie, Spall, Lumley et al are up to the task of dancing around most of the plot’s more tired or ill-considered moments.

Remarkably, the result manages to be both more preposterous and more efficient than its predecessor, with a couple of deaths occurring so swiftly they border on the subliminal.

The only really frightening thing about the 2015 version of Poltergeist is how haunted it is by the original.

The first, pre-'quake half hour is such a patience-testing slow burn that director Nicolás López runs the risk of extinguishing the viewer's interest altogether. But when things head (metaphorically) south they do so with an escalating, apocalyptic ferocity which continues until the very last second.

While there are some scares along the way, Stewart foolishly gives away the whole kit and caboodle plot-wise with an opening quotation from Arthur C. Clarke.