From Beyond
Stuart Gordon and Jeffrey Combs do Lovecraft again. A machine that lets you see what should stay unseen.
519 entries. Curated, not exhaustive. A short shelf of things worth knowing about beats a long one nobody can navigate.
Stuart Gordon and Jeffrey Combs do Lovecraft again. A machine that lets you see what should stay unseen.
A prestige director slumming in the glut, and a poster more famous than the film.
Canadian, mine-set, unusually well shot. The censored cut ruined it for decades.
Needles taped under the eyes so she cannot look away. Argento's last truly great film.
The raft scene is the best kill in any slasher. The rest is fine.
Lenzi chasing Deodato with none of the argument. Real animal deaths, no defence.
The drill scene. Otherwise thin, but the atmosphere is thick.
The killer-Santa movie that got itself run out of cinemas in a week.
The one that is actually fun. Ferrets steal the film.
Turkish Star Wars. Contains actual Star Wars footage. Not licensed.
Troma's only good film, and the head-crushing is still funny.
Sayles again. A flushed pet in the sewers, and it knows how silly that is.
Jamie Lee Curtis, a masked killer, and a decade-old secret. Halloween cashes in, disco included.
Shot at weekends over four years by Jackson and his friends. Astonishing.
Argento's sequel to Suspiria. Even less plot, even more colour. A building that is alive.
A dead cop stalks New York in uniform. Larry Cohen writes, Robert Z'Dar's jaw does the rest.
Insect telepathy, a Swiss boarding school, and a straight-razor chimpanzee. Argento off the leash.
On the nasties list by pure bureaucratic accident. An actual masterpiece about divorce.
Argento's coldest and cleverest. That crane shot earns its reputation.
Makes no sense whatsoever and is Fulci's best film. Dream logic, fully committed.
George C. Scott versus a bouncing red ball. The best serious ghost film of its decade.
Punk soundtrack, running zombies, and the film that invented 'BRAINS'.
Abandons realism entirely. Bronson defends a housing block with a machine gun.
Where the effects and the writing finally matched. Jeffrey Combs is perfect.
The exploding head made Cronenberg bankable. The film around it is smarter than that scene.
The bleakest Romero. Bub is the only sympathetic character in it.
Long live the new flesh. Cronenberg's prophecy about media, the body, and a chest that opens.
A serious film about media atrocity that committed real atrocity.
The template the whole Italian post-nuke cycle copied for a decade.
Remake and sequel at once. Raimi discovers slapstick and never looks back.
Cynical, derivative, and it industrialised the whole form. Savini's finest hour.
The good one that caused all the others. Poledouris score is the best part.
Prosecuted in Britain. Actually a comedy, though it took years to admit it.