With barely a nod to the notion of storyline, this is another loud, brash series of MTV sketches, big on energy, little on brain. Somehow the idea of three scantily-clad chicks getting along okay with each other is pitched as pop-feminist empowerment. Diaz, Barrymore and Liu kick ass and chew scenery; Demi Moore is freakish; the (great) soundtrack rides roughshod over everything. Candy floss.

Feature-length spin-off from the Japanimated sci-fi TV show about a group of bounty hunters in the late 21st century. Here, they're battling renegade bio-terrorist commandos from Mars and a nanobyte virus. Innovative ideas and gizmos a-go-go, and though a tad predictable, its energy keeps you watching.

John Carpenter was 24 when he shot one of the most influential films in movie history in just 20 days, on a budget of just over $300,000, for the apparently meagre salary of $10,000, a cut of the profits and his name above the title. Looking back, a quarter of a century on, it was probably the best deal he ever made. After a faltering opening run, Halloween quickly became a critically acclaimed box-office smash that went on to gross over $50 million and spawned a raft of sequels and an entire industry of mostly inferior slasher movies.

Corporate exploitation, US foreign policy, K-Mart, small-town rednecks, the NRA and Charlton Heston are all in the firing line as shaggy documentarian, and now best-selling author, Michael Moore tackles America's self-destructive gun culture. Mostly witty and irreverent, it's also sporadically profound—see the terrifying slow-mo security footage of the Columbine massacre and Chuck Heston's final broken and bewildered interview.

Paul Schrader deals with intriguing, uncomfortable issues here, but with, for him, a slightly saddening conservatism. Telling the story of Bob Crane, the '50s star of Hogan's Heroes, whose career nosedived as he became increasingly addicted to filming his own sexploits, it's initially vibey and buzzing, with a terrific turn from Greg Kinnear, but later lapses into soggy moralising and mopey depression.

Impossible to watch this already without wondering how Arnie must've calculated it'd boost his electoral campaign. The Governor of California returns in a shiny sequel to T2 which borrows much of that film's story and dynamics. Jonathan Mostow helms explosively, Nick Stahl and Kristanna Loken stand up strong, and it's loudly functional. But thank God he can't be Prez.

You would have thought that Richard Dreyfuss might have analysed his own contribution to the wretched Krippendorf's Tribe. Yet here he is again, hamming wildly from start to fin, as a perennial loser enjoying one startlingly successful day at the races. David Johansen and the adorable Jennifer Tilly provide brief but inspired moments of comic brilliance, but it's dear, dear Dickie's show. More's the pity.

Truly wonderful Japanese black comedy about a nice family who open a quiet B&B in the mountains, only to watch all their guests accidentally perish in increasingly macabre ways. Utterly barking stuff, this has something for everyone—surreal musical numbers with dancing zombies, claymation sequences and an exploding volcano! With movies like this around, who needs drugs?

As boxing movies go, it's not exactly Raging Bull. As Elvis movies go, it's not exactly King Creole either (though Michael Casablanca Curtiz directed both). Even so, Presley's 10th movie is no turkey, aided by some half-decent tunes and solid support from a youngish Charles Bronson.

Pre-Star Wars, '70s Hollywood loved its post-apocalyptic sci-fi dystopias—think The Omega Man, Rollerball and Logan's Run. With a brilliant cast—Charlton Heston, Edward G Robinson in his final role—and a superbly ghoulish twist, few come bleaker or better than this.