Martyn Conterio

Verbinski doesn't skimp on thrills, mind you. There are jump scares galore, acts of literally penetrating violence and the denouement goes for full-on operatic perversity. Fans of Gothic horror - treat yourself and take the cure.

My Father, Die's pummelling violence and existentialist leanings would be too absurd if set in County Kerry or County Mayo, but the doom-filled lyricism - its bloodied, weary soul - might best be described as Beckett with gunplay.

Abattoir doesn't have a jaw-dropping...shock scene, but the ending does pack an emotional punch, of a type so few and far between in the annals of horror cinema.

Tod Williams, a journeyman best known for Paranormal Activity 2, has managed to transfer King's very popular brand of horror with a good deal of success.

The Vatican using VR technology to seek out victims of the demonically possessed is an intriguing and weirdly logical progression for the 21st century (move over exorcists, now we have techxorcists), but what generally lets the movie down is its bland dialogue, bland casting, and routine approach to frights.

31 is a horror show delivered in hammer blows, or 'Whitechapel-style'. You either dig it or you don't.

Dirty Grandpa wants to be as filthy as a Tijuana peep show featuring a beleaguered performer and put upon donkey, but ends up as sickly sweet as a Werther's Original.

Once we start to understand Ayka’s life and reasons for behaving how she does, the film gains tragic dimensions and its humanist voice grows into a desperate cry.

Don’t Click is anti-torture porn, a rebuke to mindless muck for the sake of entertainment. It’s likely, though, Don’t Click will be quickly accused of being exactly what it’s rallying against.