I've a feeling this film will go misunderstood by many.

And by those, I mean the ones who go in expecting this to be another Call Me By Your Name because this couldn't be further from Guadagnino's 2017 coming-of-age romance masterpiece.

Queer is a singular vision, and whilst its themes may feel typical of gay cinema, they've never been explored or dissected as they are here. It's a tale, or semi-autobiographical in the words of William S. Burroughs, of self-loathing, loneliness and longing, and what we deny ourselves to fit social norms. Unable to express his true self or feelings, we see desire and the longing for connection with another human through Lee's eyes, often psychedelic or out of pure desperation, it's journey from the vibrancy of Mexico City to the ultimate trip deep in the Ecuadorian jungle, as he seeks to unlock true intimacy with a beautiful young man, in the gorgeous shape of a former American GI, Eugene Allerton.

It's a complicated story to crack, and honestly, Guadagnino and screen writer, Justin Kuritzkes, fumbles in its first 30 minutes. It takes its time to find its narrative rhythm and often teetering on the edge of boredom, but once we get an understanding of who Lee is and Guadagnino's ambitious are, the film opens up beautifully. Erotic, dreamlike, and enigmatic: Queer demands your patience and if you stick with it, it's a truly rewarding, albeit strange and sad, experience.

Its true transportive power though, comes in the shape of Daniel Craig. A career-defining performance: his Lee is all quiet rage and spoken melancholy, pained yet charismatic, awkward but gutsy. It's a revelation and lacking in vanity, and too rare of a thing these days. He solidifies himself, as still as one the most underestimated actors today. There's also some beautiful and mad supporting performances too from Jason Schwartzman and a bonkers Lesley Manville. Though; suitably icy whilst overwhelming handsome, Drew Starkey makes a significant mark on the screen and his on-screen charisma with Craig is both hot and complex.

With Guadagnino's printers eye, the world Queer inhabits looks extraordinary. From the nuanced production design, Sayombhu Mukdeeprom's eye-watering cinematography, and Guadagnino's wonderfully fluid camera work and use of minature sets make it all look beautiful up on the big screen, while remaining intimate, suitably grimy and otherworldly - almost a canvas of Lee's mental state. It's also aided by an extraordinary score by Trent Reznor and Atticus Ross - another piece of music that remains them as the most incredible film composers of our time.

The answers don't come easy and sometimes not at all, but Queer works best when it refuses to play to expectations. It's frustrating yet exhilarating, though tragic and offering little hope but it is a smart and individual cinematic work exploring the fears and hopes of a gay man in a woemrld that's leaving him behind. A film not for all and it will be discussed for years, but it's one hell of a trip if you're willing to give yourself over to it.

It's bizarre, unsettling, and it's great to see the horror genre take more risks even though not all of Cuckoo's work.

The third act is a total mess but Hunter Schafer, echoing the likes of Jodie Foster and Sigourney Weaver, keeps you involved.

The most cringest, unrealistic character names ever.

Lily Bloom - ugh! "Free-spirt Lily Bloom dreams of opening her very own flower shop..." FUCK ALL THE WAY OFF!

Neurosurgeon Ryle Kincaid sounds like he was named by his severely dyslexic parents.

And, then you have this bozo, fucking Atlas Corrigan! ATLAS! Who on this earth names their fucking kid, Atlas?! It doesn't sound romantic or unique, just fucking stupid.

It Ends With Us is a smug and disingenuous vanity project that has the gall to romanticise domestic abuse and call it entertainment. The phoniness reads like a Taylor Swift album.

It's a film for idiots who genuinely believe nonsense love stories in the movies happen just the same in real life.

Nothing feels more like Christmas than a chainsaw up your ass.

Designed to stun and confuddle, yet remains daringly original.

This is autuer Jacques Audiard most ambitious project yet, it swings big and hits most of its bases. It is a musical odyssey, a trans woman's story, a tale of redemption, a cartel thriller fused with telenovela theatrics, it's about cultural identity and the exploitation of those on the bottom line, a scream into the political corruot void, it explores hunan morals and how much one is willing to risk and sacrifice to uphold them, and the unending spiral of violence. In short, it's a lot film, and maybe too much for one that runs at 130 minutes.

Still, Audiard has crafted such a dynamic and exciting film that it just sweeps you away with glorious musical setpieces, extraordinary camera work, visual splendor, and a trio of terrific female performances at its core. Selena Gomez proving she has the dramatic guts to be one helluva actress. Newcomer Karla Sofia Gascón brings an emotionally complex nuance to her lead role, but it's Zoe Saldana who is the revelation here. A true powerhouse performance bursting with energy and emotion unlike anything she has ever done, you see the world of Emilia Pérez through her eyes mostly, and it's utterly captivating. Even her Latina accent and Spanish dialogue glows. Who knew she was capable of such a scene-stealing performance?

The film isn't perfect though, and while Audiard is clearly having fun being creatively bold, it's not his best work either. The energy does disapate in a third act that feels rushed and unsatisfying and it's attempts to almagate so many themes will certainly isolate viewers. Some may find it tone-deaf, empty, and exploitative whilst others may find it a fresh breeze of vibrant and vital filmmaking.

However one may react to it, just prepare you're strapped in tight.

A triumphant feat of musical movie magic.

Jon M. Chu does a stellar job of masterminding story, visuals, song, and well-judged emotional beats. The last ten minutes were the most enthralling and satisfying pieces of big screen cinema I've seen all year.

Cynthia and Ariana nail the iconic roles perfectly - they hit the notes effortlessly, bring charisma and charm, humour and heart, without missing a beat. It's an astonishing duet performance, and the film ends exactly where it's meant to do: leave you wanting much more.

If this doesn't get the Oscar love it so richly deserves, I'll eat a witches hat.

Let's be real, this is essentially a remake disguised as a sequel with lingering plot strands struggling to hold the narrative together.

Thankfully, it's not a particularly bad film. Not a great one, but as an entertaining big-budget extravaganza, it gets the job done. For Ridley Scott, he can pretty much make these films in his sleep - the bloody, bombastic action thrills, the set design is incredible, and it's gorgeously shot as per usual. Though, it's sloppily edited at times - there's scenes that have no flow and are a bit confusing.

While Russell Crowe is sorely missed in a role he made his own, Paul Mescal slips into leading man role just fine even if he fails to bring the emotional beats Crowe brought in the 2000 original. The camera loves him and is a deft hand at action in the film huge setpieces. Unfortunately, he's eclipsed by the sheer magnetism of Denzel Washington's Macrinus who simply relishes every second on screen and steals scenes left and right. It's a superb performance from a master. Pedro Pascal also impresses, and seems to have a meatier role and far more emotional resonance that I was expecting Mescal to bring instead.

What was with those evil twinky twins though? They were just confusing. Plenty of camp and unintentional laughter, but that was it.

Gladiator II is fun, a bit camp, looks great on the big screen, and it's excellently paced - the 158-minute runtime is a breeze. Though, it remains a bit soulless, the script and dialogue creak, and it simply exists as a redux of the original for a new generation. Unfortunately, I don't think it will remembered so fondly as the original.

Far less anemic than its predecessor largely due to its pacier plot, its gorgeously shot-on-location Rome setpieces, and Hans Zimmer's glorious score.

Otherwise, it's absurd nonsense as usual.

The visual of Ewan McGregor's Vatican priest parachuting out of an exploding helicopter cracks me up every damn time.

"I flew helicopter missions before I joined the priesthood..." - oh, um, I wonder what's gonna happen in the big action climax!?

My favourite bit was when Tom Hanks and Audrey Tautou solve a huge chunk of this supposedly thousands of years old mystery by using Google on a Nokia phone borrowed from a chav on a London double-decker bus.

Before the summer blockbuster was saturated with shared superhero universes and bloated multimillion tosh jumbled together by millennials in charge of the streaming giants, nobody expected Steven Spielberg's War of the Worlds to be somewhat, well, the last of its kind.

A singular, terrifying vision - Spielberg turns his signature cinematic magic into a grim, grey, often macabre, spectacle. The first hour is simply astonishing: the emergence of the infamous tripods, the human annihilation reminiscent of images of the holocaust, societal meltdown, the garish visual tones (masterminded by Janusz Kaminski) and clunky, mechanical sound design all incredibly fused together by stunning practical effects and Industrial Light & Magic superb CGI work. Never had a blockbuster seems so hopeless and for a PG-13 film, really pushing the horror element. Take for instance the Hudson ferry sequence, when some of the action is seen from those POV shots of people drowning inside their own cars. Pure nightmare fuel.

Its just a damn dirty shame, that the film falls short of greatness and thats mainly due the second half of the film. Spielberg clearly too enamored to the HG Wells source material and scripters David Keopp and Josh Friedman unwillingness to take narrative risks. Once Tim Robbins' Harlan Orgilvy arrives and the story spends too much time subterranean, the terror subsides and it struggles to regain it again in the rather unexciting climax.

It's not enough to write it off though, Tom Cruise fits the lead role perfectly even when Dakota Fanning grates and Justin Chatwin angsty brat annoys. John Williams score is brilliant, I don't think he has abused the strings like that since he masterminded the Jaws theme. And it's also refreshing to watch a modern blockbuster not interested in becoming a franchise and happily remains a singular studio release.

It's not a Spielberg masterpiece, but it's the master being at his most bold.

You've got to admire its ambition to upend serial killer thriller tropes and Willa Fitzgerald's unhinged and diabolical central performance is an absolute marvel.

Unfortunately, whilst JT Mollner's vision is original and full of twisted black humour, his execution is rather jumbled and shockingly vacuous. The non-linear narrative structure at first works well to pull the rug from underneath the viewers expectations, but come the second act, it all becomes a bit of a cop-out when it comes to ths subtexts the film likes to dissect. It swings big to hit home with themes of misogyny, sexual politics, consent, and toxic masculinity but oddly echoes hollow as its excessive bombastic stylings and jarring soundtrack working as more of a distraction rather than a cohesive whole.

It's a strange mix to swallow and while its definitely worth your interest, especially at a well-paced 97 minutes, the side effects of garish visual overload and underwhelming contexts ultimately make it a disappointing endeavour. Though, Fitzgerald is a star in the making she just deserves a better script.

The sound design alone will give you nightmares. One of the most influential horror films ever made.

A masterclass in cinematic technique and primal terror. The increasing and tightening foreboding horror and its power of suggestion is relentless - you know that these poor documentary filmmakers are not going to make it and witnessing their inevitable fear and hopelessness, makes for one unforgettable experience.

The authenticity of the performances and the attention to detail by director's Daniel Myrick and Eduardo Sánchez is what draws you into this spiralling nightmare and whilst often copied in the decades ever since, it remains utterly unmatched.

My favourite bits will always be the location fonts used throughout the film. Stunning.

The rest... it just doesn't blend. Solace feels disjointed, overly ambitious but underwritten with a stupid plot about stolen water (huh!?). It lacks soul, imagination, and the excessive action sequences are horrifically kinetic and badly edited. At just a very brief 106-minute runtime, it's stretched and rather boring.

It's a shame because Craig still nails it, even though the story pretty asks him to be grumpy the entire time which much of so-called grief he's supposedly dealing with in the aftermath of Vesper's death is barely dealt with. And that's one of the most frustrating thing about this film - Casino Royale gave some much material to work with for the sequel but instead the creative team here are like chimps at a typewriter.

The supporting cast is great, particularly Giancarlo Gianni. Olga Kurylenko luckily is given a sub-plot to work with and Gemma Arterton (who is given the ridiculous name of Strawberry Fields) provides some much needed charm and lightness, even though her character simply exists to provide a single moment of fan service.

Solace is watchable but wirh a mismatched director, Marc Forster, clearly out of his depth and a dull script, it's simply a forgettable endeavour and the only low point of Daniel Craig's 007 tenure.

Falling from the pinnacle that was Skyfall was inevitable and while Spectre is far from an bad Bond, it does lack the emotional gravitas that made its predecessor so damn great. Also, Christoph Waltz is criminally underused as a villain. Like, talk about dream casting for a James Bons villain but the script gives him absolutely nothing to chew on. His scenes feel empty, only existing for plot exposition, and Waltz himself seems completely bored in the three (yes! THREE!) scenes he's in.

Luckily, the rest of the film is also excellently cast. Namely Dave Bautista and Andrew Scott as appropriately nasty and evil henchman, the former being in particular good form. Monica Bellucci looks incredible, born to be a Bond girl, but is unfortunately underused and Léa Seydoux whilst stunning and brimming with intelligence, just lacks that wee bit of emotional and sarcastic nuance that, oh let's say, Eva Green brought to Vesper Lynd.

Still, despite the shortcomings of Spectre, Sam Mendes still crafts one helluva 007 blockbuster. The action is stellar (nightime car chase in Rome is the standout), Hoyte Van Hoytema's cinematography is crisp and moody, and Daniel Craig slips back into the role with such effortless ease and charisma. Forever, he's the ultimate James Bond.

The best Bond film ever made.

Daniel Craig gives James Bond such an emotional complexity and vulnerability, that it gives the character humanity on a scale that never existed in the franchise. It's a helluva performance but its equally matched by a brilliant Judi Dench. It's just as her's film as much as it his - the charisma, constant bickering, and comedic timing between the characters is a joy to watch but how the story is constructed around M and the morality of her position is genius. You feel everything is at stake in this one, and everything actually is.

Sam Mendes masterminds some stellar action setpieces and the film is utterly gorgeous, but his deft hand at combining spectacle and character nuances just makes Skyfall feel like a bracingly fresh and vibrant action thriller that never ceases to thrill, even after countless rewatchss. Roger Deakins cinematography is utterly gorgeous.

Finally, Javier Bardem does what he does best and makes a sensational villain and with a dollop of queer undertones that's very welcomed in what is a very heterosexual franchise. Silva's introductionary monologue alone is how you birth a bad guy with underlying meance and some very dark humour. Bardem is perfectly cast here.

In short, a perfect blockbuster.

A rare and perfect made-for-TV horror film to watch alone on a dark, stormy, October night.

So chilling and slow-burn in its execution, it saviors its scares through dread, geniune creepiness, and great storytelling instead of cheap shocks and gore.

It's also superbly satisfying to watch the heinous white men (especially a particularly creepy and unsavoury Charles Durning) reap their bloody fates from tthe vengeanful scarecrow. Cult filmmaker, Frank De Felitta, reverses the trend of most slashers from the time (the Golden Era of Slasher) where all the victims deserve their comeuppance and he perfectly winds up the terror to their ultimate demise. There's no final girl here, no faceless serial killer with a big kitchen knife, just lingering dread of death.

It's remarkable genre filmmaking that's probably the root of many millennials childhood trauma. Timeless TV terror.

An audacious concept that's superbly executed. Unsettling and gruesome, Azrael may be too bleak for most and the first act stumbles whilst finding its feet, but one it does, it's relentless, pacy horror.

Samara Weaving's nonverbal performance is the main hook though - tough, steady, and vulnerable, she's a superb actress who says so much through facial expressions alone is impressive.

Also, that final shot is an absolute doozy!

One of the greatest horror films of all time.

Gruesome, terrifying, and fiercely political. Romero wants you to be scared, not of the undead, but of humanity: we will destroy ourselves.

Night set the bar, broke taboos, and dismantled social barriers. For me, it's the holy bible of horror cinema.

One of the most undervalued horror films of recent times.

Unfortunately, it was left on the shelf for several years and ultimately abandoned by 20th Century Fox during the its takeover by Disney. It was finally given a limited release with little or no marketing in 2020. Unsurprisingly, it died a swift death at the box office, only to reappear on Disney+ streaming platform to little fanfare.

It's a shame because The Empty Man is a chilling exercise in slow-burn dread. To reveal much about the plot is to spoil the dark treats within, as it follows James Badge Dale as a troubled ex-cop whose life has been intertwined with a mysterious cult who wish to summon an ancient supernatural entity.

A protege of David Fincher, director David Prior is not interested in horror movie thropes, empty jump scares, or even gore. He expertly builds a fore-bording atmosphere with some intricate and solid world-building that slowly reveals its cosmic terror that leads to rather unpleasant and bleak third act twist. It freezes the blood with its tightening, quiet tension, and will definitely haunt your dreams at night.

It refuses to play to audiences expectations and even though it feels slightly bloated at 137 minutes long, it stays committed to its unsettling mood throughout and ultimately becomes a rewarding genre piece. Even the opening 20-minute prologue manages to be the stuff nightmares but sets the viewer up for a truly scary journey.

Essential for any horror fanatic and for spooky season, but mostly, it deserves to find a wide audience to appreciate it's greatness.

Despite a script by Guillermo del Toro, this gothic creature feature just lacks the magic needed to make it memorable.

Like, it's very watchable, the creature FX is a lot fun, and the gorgeous Marco Beltrami score is wonderful (which deserves a far better horror film than this), but director Troy Nixey (who is he?) lacks the creative nuances to make the horror come alive, and the narrative just feels clunky. Also, the performances are awkwardly stiff especially from that annoying kid who's really lacking in charm and deserves a good slap for most of the running time.

Not a terrible horror film, just an unessential one.

Pure, relentless, and blood-curdling dread.

Robert Eggers dedication and fervent detailing to his cinematic art, to the genre, and historical accuracy of The Witch enthralls the viewer with its terror. A nightmarish descent into god-fearing lunacy and the darkest corners of human nature that's impossible to look away from with a deliciously satisfying third act and Anna Taylor-Joy bewitching the screen in her first leading role.

A genre masterclass in story and atmospherics. Unforgettable.

The first half is a bit boring but come the hour mark, Fright Night finds it campy groove and goes for it.

Love the queerness, the gooey practical FX, and Chris Sarandon makes for a sexy, sensational villain vampire. It's just not gory or funny enough to be a straight-out 80's horror classic.

It's not a Carpenter classic - the pace is languid, the story feels underwritten, and the cast isn't very compelling.

Saying that, there are genuinely unsettling moments throughout, it's atmospheric though I do think Carpenter's restraint gets the better of him here, but it the bleak and ambiguous ending lands well.

Regardless, it makes for a suitably spooky Halloween watch.

What a surprise this was.

Anna Kendrick's has masterminded a tense and intelligent psychological thriller, which manages to wring tension not just from its subject matter, but its smart humour on sexual politics, violence, and misogyny in society and the Hollywood machine.

Kendrick casting herself in the lead is also a great move, she brings a toughness to a vulnerable role, packing in the smarts too, but its in the third act where she shines. As a director too, that carpark scene and that last scene which completely pulls the rug from underneath the viewers feet, is incredibly nerve-wrecking but also deliver an emotional wallop.

Yes, it does lack the obsessive detailing à la Zodiac but it remains a beautifully shot and excellently constructed serial killer thriller that feels original, and its great to see this genre told from a female perspective.

Dying to see what Kendrick's sophomore effort will be. She a directoral talent to keep an eye on.

I've always felt Michele Soavi is an unsung master of Italian horror, never receiving the plaudits lauded on the likes of Argento or Bava.

The Church is a fabulous piece of slow-burn gothic dread and gore with echoes of John Carpenter's Prince of Darkness (1987). It takes it time, but it manages to slowly creep beneath the skin and send chills down the spine. Soavi expertly builds an indelible but bleak atmosphere, with absolutely superb and haunting imagery and a cracking soundtrack.

Perfect viewing for spooky season, because once you watch you'll be bewitched by its madness.

"The absence of love is the most abject pain."

Werner Herzog's reverence for the vampire lore, Stoker's source material, the original 1922 adaptation, and deep respect for German expressionist cinema is sutured into the very fabric of celluloid itself of this genre classic.

Yes, at times, it's a rambling and coldly abstract curio featuring some inert performances from the beautiful Isabelle Adjani and Walter Ladengast but through Herzog's visionary eyes, his Nosferatu is a gothic tale of love and loneliness, and it how it echoes across landscapes, ripples in the vast oceans, and throughout time itself. Gorgeously realised and shot, DoP Jörg Schmidt-Reitwein captures some indelible images of the Carpathian vistas and a desolate and unnerving Wismar, and the soundtrack is utterly incredible.

Though, Herzog's ace-in-the-hole is Klaus Kinski's portrayal of the lonesome Count Dracula. A performance of deep respect and resonance for Max Schreck, but also it's own beast. Kinski brings an echoing sadness and subtlety to the role, a cursed shadow of death and disease who simply wants someone to love and accompany him as the centuries crawl by, and thus, ultimately destined for tragedy. It's a truly heartbreaking and remarkable performance.

It may not be a film for all, but it is cinematic art and an autuer masterpiece, and for anybody looking to be moved by the power of cinema, give yourself over the darkness of this pantom of the night.

This is a solid and entertaining horror romp but it's fatal flaw is that it's far too glossy. It's too clean looking, there's no gothic dread that the material is clearly screaming out for.

You could do a lot worse though but imagine this in the hands of del Toro or Eggers.

The concept is ace, the production design is stellar, and the first act is relentlessly tense.

But then it decides to shit itself a third of the way in with atrocious editing, confusing storytelling, bad acting, and a million ideas stolen from far better genre films.

The twist ending is neat but by the time it arrives you're just too damn exhausted to care. Two-and-a-half stars is generous but that's simply because I truly wanted to love this film.

You can easily tell this film had a rocky production. It seems rushed, it's sloppily edited, the FX and production design look like they buckled under budget limitations, and the script screams it should've went through a few more drafts before the cameras started rolling.

Though Sphere is intriguing and while Barry Levinson was the completely wrong director to bring the source material to the screen, he just about manages to keep the mystery engaging enought to withstand the bloated 135-minute running time. He just doesn't make it urgent or exciting in any particular way.

It also boasts a superb cast and solid performances (Samuel L. Jackson is the standout) except for a woefully miscast Dustin Hoffman who is such an annoying, smarmy, and rambling lead actor that if I was stuck a thousand feet below the surface of the ocean with him, I'd happily talk a stroll outside and drown myself.

The real horror here is what happened in the editing suite at Warner Bros.

It's like watching two painfully shite films at once: the extremely boring director's cut and the cheap studio-demanded reshoots by the Wachowski siblings in some sort of unholy bastard offspring of lazy filmmaking.

In short, an utter mess of a film.

The real joke of Joker: Folie à Deux is that director Todd Phillips likes to position himself as some sort of radical autuer but the end result is nothing more than an a ill-advised sequel with a somewhat interesting concept that's lacking imagination, depth, or any real sense of relevance.

Simply put, the Joker has pretty much run out of things to say.

While the 2019 original also stood on a rocky narrative foundation, at least it had ambition and a truly spectacular performance to make up for its shortcomings. Here, the peculiar creative decision to turn the story into a musical is so disappointingly orchestred that you're left wondering why Phillips and his co-writers came up with the idea in the first place. The film is more of a awkward sing-a-long rather than the absurdist fantasy musical one was expecting - an interpretation of Arthur Fleck's factured psyche. But, nope, this film lands with a such a creative and ambitious thud that we're left with nothing more than a boring courtroom drama and some hideous Arkham Asylum-set violence. The film only real sense of zeal is the somewhat intriguing last scene, but in hindsight, it feels more like a footnote or lazy fan service.

Performance-wise, Joaquin Phoenix is fine but his performance is just lacking the psychotic ingenuity he brought previously. There's less fire this time but it's not his fault. Unfortunately, he's working with a completely redundant script and some rather clumsy dialogue too. Lady Gaga fares a lot better though. In fact, her Lee Quinzel/Harley Quinn, truly is the reason worth going to see this movie. She helluva of an actress and she gives the role as much punch as the script allows her right up to until she becomes more of a side-lined supporting character and is pretty non-existent in the third act where the script gives her character absolutely no nuance or story to chew on. It's an embarrassing creative decision to under-ultise such talent - what's the point of hiring Lady Gaga in the first place so?

But, she does save the film from one-star city. Apart from Gaga and the cool production and costume design, and Lawrence Sher's gorgeous cinematography, Folie à Deux is more cinematic folly than cinematic brilliance. It's misjudged, underwritten nonsense that will, most thankfully, not linger long on the brain after viewing.

A sequel that should never of happened.

Loved the concept and George A. Romero directs a handsome looking film.

Unfortunately, the film doesn't deliver on its premise or excellent opening 10 minutes. The lack of geniune suspense make the two-hour running time lag and Timothy Hutton is a rather bland lead.

James Wan did it better with Malignant (2021).

It's chaotic as hell, but they don't make them this anymore.

Pure 80's trashy joy with a wonderful cast. I'd forgotten how beautiful Jason Patric was, how charming Corey Haim was (rest well, dude). Kiefer makes a sensational bad guy, the 1980's punk aesthetics rocks, and Thomas Newman's synth score is criminally underrated. I love the homo-erotic undertones too... Kiefer and Jason so wanted to kiss each other, and director Joel Schumacher (also sleep well, dude) layers on the camp and gayness unapologetically, but also masterminds a ridiculously fun genre flick too.

Effortlessly entertaining mayhem that's aged particularly well, and makes for an essential watch for any budding horror film buff.

Also, one of my favourite bits though will always be Dianne Wiest's cool-mom in her flowery blouses working in a video store. Deadly.

The Substance is a deranged, gaudy, noxious, sick, high-concept masterpiece.

It's every woman's worst spiralling nightmare - a decent into self-hate in a superficial world carved out by odious, pure white, privilaged old men. Yet, while director Coralie Fargeat holds it up as a mirror to todays toxic beauty standards, she channels it through hyper-kinetic visuals, pulp storytelling, breathless and relentless pace, and Lovecraftian body horror and gore with exhilarting and punishing vigour. It's a cinematic acid trip delivered with sardonic slap in the face. It's runtime of 140 minutes gushes by effortlessly, Fargeat's ability to staple our eyes to the screen for so long is extraordinary and she's a sterling new talent.

In a fair world, we'd see Oscar nominations for it's two leads, Demi Moore and Margaret Qualley. The latter is electric and stunning, mixing menace, naivety and charm to superb effect but the film belongs to Moore. A true revelation and the greatest role of her career - the physicality and the emotional resonance she brings, unexpectably so, is simply atonishing. I hate using the word "brave" but, oh my fucking god, actors of the opposite sex could only wish they had the balls to shape a performace as perfectly as she does here.

There's a scene here, with Moore in front of a mirror as she prepares for a date, aesthetically and mentally. I won't say anything more, but the emotional complexities and sheer magnestism is worthy of a Best Actress Oscar win, and probably the performance of the decade.

Inject this crazy shit straight to my veins.

As anemic as it reputation suggests and probably one of the worst films ever committed to celluloid.

Lifeless, charmless, and rather ugly to look at, and poor Uma Thurman, who knew, even after Batman & Robin the only way out was down.

Viggo Mortensen, despite his great career, still somewhat feels like an under-appreciated actor. Never given the same type of reverence some A-lister actors are so undeserving of. Here, both unnerving yet subtle, his performance in A History of Violence is sensational - the underpinning of what the film is truly representative of: the deconstruction of the "American Dream" stemming from violence that's so intrinsic in the fabric of society.

Mario Bello is also excellent in this, another underrated actress. Just expel the existence of The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor from your mind.

As the film goes, it's pure Cronenberg - societal breakdown, relationship complexities, human mentality versus sexuality, ultra-violence, dark humour, hyper masculinity etc. It's all here and he weaves it beautifully into a very unfussy narrative of one's dark past catching up on itself after what is first considered as an impulsive act of self-defence. It's here where Cronenberg draws a circle, the never-ending rotation of violence and the ripple effects it inevitably causes.

It's a thrilling, fascinating, and intelligent piece of cinema, and for David Cronenberg, one of his best films. The way he fuses genre tropes and stereotypes, against a backdrop that's very real is utterly electrifying and lingers on the brain hours after watching. He's one-of-a-kind filmmaker.

Its existence is almost legendary and in a way, still utterly essential more than ever as it portrays an America that hasn't changed much since this mondo documentary was released in 1981.

The archive footage is tough to watch but remains astonishing - a celluloid tapestry of unspeakable violence and how it is ingrained in American society, and it's path to self-destruction.

Bleak but unforgettable stuff.

The way the killer cared so much for the cat made me think, I don't know, maybe I could fix him.

I never understood the critical mauling this received during its theatrical release.

Its far from perfect, the story is razor thin, the acting is stiff, the dialogue is inane, and it features too many dumb characters - especially the worst police force in all of cinema history. But, beyond that Darkness Fall is actually a fun, spooky ride. Director Jonathan Liebesman constructs some well-shot, well-timed frights, a sense of dread is maintained throughout, the menacing Tooth Fairy makes for a great horror movie monster, and clocking in at a super economical 86 minutes, the film doesn't outstay its welcome.

A genre classic, not at all. An under-appreciated horror flick that deserves a second shot? Absolutely.

Lucio Fulci's most restraint giallo but what this lacks in daring style and boundary-pushing violence, it makes up for it with a compelling mystery and a foreboding mood with underlying social, political, and religious themes.

For those who prefer their giallo drenched in blood, you'll be left disappointment with Don't Torture a Duckling, as this is Fulci using the genre to make a statement of the most unsuspecting of places usually hides the most heinous evils, and the slow-burn reveal of the whodunnit is brilliantly constructed with some indelible, unnerving images.

A giallo classic.

There's a sense here that Renny Harlin really wanted to make an elevated horror film on par with William Friedkin's seminal masterpiece. Unfortunately, Harlin just doesn't have the finesse or even much understanding of the horror genre to bring it all together.

There are a couple of moments of intrigue and creepiness scattered throughout, but overall, it's far too clumsy with its storytelling and the whole endeavour looks cheap and feels rote.

I'd forgotten how much of a suspense masterpiece this film is.

The craft of Mario Bava is utterly sensational. The way he uses camera angles, lighting, and sound to evoke moods or tighten tension feels so effortless, and the entire film is beautifully made too. The costume design and cinematography are first rate, and the plot grips with twists revealed just at the right moment to give you that gasp when the unexpected comes.

Most often say that Dario Argento is Italy's answer to Hitchcock, but Argento is too unrestrained, and it's Bava who is the only filmmaker that could be compared to Hitchcock. His attention to detail, character, and plot to build ultimate suspense is unmatched, and Blood and Black Lace is arguably the finest giallo ever made.

Both a true original and a psychedelic nightmare piece of cinema that you've never seen anything like before.

Jodorowsky's trip is a lot - disturbing, macabre, hilarious, political, offensive, abstract, demoralising, nihilistic, yet beautiful and exhilarating but it's a cinematic journey worth taking if you're willing to give yourself over to it.

Think Ari Aster meets Stanley Kubrick on acid.

The plot and dialogue is mushy hot garbage, and Rebecca Hall is clearly getting a big pay cheque to stick around and recite all this nonsense.

Yet, Adam Wingard's affinity for this nonsense is the films strength. The colourful and OTT action setpieces, the goofy humour, and its willingness not to take itself too seriously make this an entertaining, unashamedly fun watch with great casting in the shape of Dan Stevens.

Is this essential cinema? Not in the slightest. Will I watch a dozen more sequels? Abso-fucking-lutely!

A surprisingly tense watch with likeable and smart characters that you want to make it through.

The concept is cool and scary but it clearly suffers from budget limitations and you'd wish directors, Scott Beck and Bryan Woods, would lean harder into its weirdness and gore.

Still, a cut above most modern slashers.

An utterly compelling, scary, and gory thrill-ride that hasn't lost any of its power over the past two decades.

The cast and characters are badass, the narrative twists are unexpected, and Neil Marshall builds the tension to almost breathlessness levels with some of the creepiest movie monsters ever. And those last few moments still pack one helluva an emotional punch.

British horror at its finest.

The second best werewolf film ever made and a glorious, gutsy throwback to Neil Marshall's golden era.

Yeah, Frankenstein's monster re-envisioned as a blonde twink who wants to fuck his mom didn't really work for me.

All promise and no payoff. Just imagine what the likes of David Fincher or Guillermo del Toro could've done with this material.

Francis Lawrence captures a moody Los Angeles to perfection and manoeuvres a camera beautifully but his sloppy world-building and that awful green screen work can't mask a deathly dull narrative. Reeves and Weisz looked bored to death too, and the whole endeavour feels a lot longer than its two hour runtime.

Tilda Swinton needed far more screen time, though. She's the only that gives this film life.

A well-shot and passable giallo but director Tonino Valerii is no Dario Argento and his inability to build suspense in key moments with a rather bland plot make My Dear Killer pretty much forgettable.

The greatest slasher franchise of all time.

#JusticeForMelissaBarrera

• Scream
• Scream 2
• Scream VI
• Scream
• Scream 4
• Scream 3

Not high art, hardly essential cinema but $2.5bn in ticket sales in a decade is nothing to be sniffed at.

• Kong: Skull Island

  Global Box Office: $568,652,812

• Godzilla vs. Kong

  Global Box Office: $470,116,094

• Godzilla × Kong: The New Empire

  Global Box Office: $567,650,016

• Godzilla

  Global Box Office: $524,976,069

• Godzilla: King of the Monsters

  Global Box Office: $370,300,138

Let's all face it, Prometheus was undercooked and did not deliver on its promise. The sooner y'all realise this the better off you'll be.

And I will fight whoever says Aliens isn't the pinnacle of the franchise.

All love, though.

1. Aliens
2. Alien
3. Alien³
4. Alien: Romulus
5. Alien Resurrection
6. Alien: Covenant

   Extra bonus for the two Fassbenders kissing.

7. Prometheus
8. AVP: Alien vs. Predator
9. Aliens vs Predator: Requiem