Fascinating, propulsive, inside-out account of southern Santa Monica's badboy "Dogtown" skateboarders, their explosive mid-'70s emergence at the Del Mar Nationals, and their ultimate domination and artistic definition of their sport. Director Stacy Peralta and writer Craig Stecyk, both former skateboarders, provide access and insights, Sean Penn provides narration.

Die Hard director John McTiernan remakes the '70s extreme-sports classic with a sledgehammer where the subtle social comment should be. Chris Klein, the poor man's Keanu, is the Rollerball superstar learning that league-owner Jean Reno has all the morals of a snake. Loud, brash and dumb, though cameos by LL Cool J and Pink might thrill pop completists.

Third time around for Mike Myers' sweaty secret agent send-up, and the scattergun approach means two flat jokes for every live one. Still, he knocks down your resistance through sheer quantity: part Benny Hill, part Peter Sellers (although losing the fat Scotsman would do us all a favour). Beyoncé Knowles is the leg interest; cameos from Tom Cruise to, well, every current Hollywood name.

The 'medieval dead' conclusion to Sam Raimi's legendary trilogy is more action/comedy than horror, with heroic amputee Ash (Bruce Campbell) wielding his trusty chainsaw on Sumerian demons back in the year 1300. The special effects are worthy of Ray Harryhausen, and the comedy's in a league of its own. Great fun!

Movie industry satire based on Tolstoy's The Death Of Ivan Ilyich

In 2054 murder is obsolete thanks to Precrime, whose precognitive psychics enable police to arrest killers before they can kill. Then Precrime detective John Anderton (Tom Cruise) is himself accused of planning a murder, and only the psychic Agatha (Samantha Morton) can clear him. Spielberg's masterful sci-fi suspense turns Philip K Dick's short story into something Hitchcockian and technologically dazzling.

Multiple Oscar-winner (beating out Scorsese's Raging Bull) from 1980, directed calmly (and, for some, soporifically) by Robert Redford. It's a sombre, actorly affair in which wealthy Donald Sutherland and Mary Tyler Moore grieve for their son's death; his brother Timothy Hutton blames and shames. An early, earnest look at the dysfunctional family: American Beauty without the laughs.

Highly absorbing film about respectable family man Vincent (Aurelien Recoing) who, after losing his job as a consultant, invents a prestigious new career and betrays close friends with fictitious investment deals. Juggling fact with fiction creates ever-spiralling tensions until Vincent's double life closes in around him. A deceptively profound drama.

Tony Richardson's 1961 take on Shelagh Delaney's kitchen-sink drama of schoolgirl pregnancy is a travesty. Delaney wrote her play at 18, but its sweet sadness—heroine Jo's taste of honey is brief indeed—is obliterated by the director's clumping Brit-new-wave clichés. Fairground anyone? Rita Tushingham and Murray Melvin remain facially memorable, but acting honours go to Dora Bryan.

Josh Hartnett again displays his unerring knack for atrocious career choices in this low-brow, lacklustre sex comedy from the sadly-declined Heathers director. Falling for a cutie he meets at the laundromat, horny Josh swears off copulation. On hearing this, countless honeys throw themselves at him, naturally. Comedy and sex don't gel: here's proof.