Minor shocker (made for TV) from Wes Craven, starring Linda Blair as a schoolgirl whose boyfriend and family get taken over by her evil cousin, a backwoods witch. Only Blair's horse and friendly supernatural expert Macdonald Carey can tell the possessed from normal people. Also known as Stranger In Our House, and for Blair and Craven completists only.

Rain? Leather? Uzis? Slow-mo? Plot? Ah...Character? Um...Performance? Ahem...Sexy and inspired concept—werewolves versus vampires, with extra ammo—visibly collapses amid a slew of derivative Matrix shoot-'em-ups, excruciating line deliveries and cack-handed direction from Megadeth music video veteran Len Wiseman. Kate Beckinsale can only high-kick and cringe.

Beautifully gauged 1989 romantic comedy from the undervalued Steve Kloves, with Jeff and Beau Bridges glorious as two competitive but complementary brothers who constitute a lounge act. When they employ Michelle Pfeiffer's seductive Susie Diamond as chanteuse, Jeff's hard-boiled heart goes whoopee. Oscar-nominated Pfeiffer, cleverly, sings well but not too well. Lovely.

Krzysztof Kieslowski's 1979 satire charts the experiences of a Polish clerk who buys an 8mm camera to record the arrival of his new baby, but becomes increasingly consumed by his hobby. After his employers ask him to make a film to mark their company's 25th anniversary, he's propelled into the position of political film-maker. With Kieslowski's documentary background clearly on display, it's a wry, heartfelt contemplation of the film-maker's burden.

Charles Boyer is the ultimate Gallic douche-bag and Ingrid Bergman the twittering naif trapped in a marriage inferno in this brilliant and beautiful psychological thriller from studio workhorse George Cukor. Boyer's after some diamonds, but Bergman's in love. He bullies her, makes her kiss Bibles, and slowly drives her insane. Genius.

Controversial in its day (1967), Joseph Strick's bold stab at Joyce's unfilmable novel was (echoing the book) banned in Ireland until as recently as 2001. This year will see the 100th anniversary of "Bloomsday": as a warm-up, watch this intriguing, prescient art movie, vividly stalking Bloom and Dedalus around Dublin, then committing the last half hour to Molly (Barbara Jefford) and her lusty soliloquy.

It all feels as dynamic and mould-breaking as it did 10 years ago. ER has kept itself fresh with regular transfusions of new characters, but it's amazing how good the original cast was (take a bow Noah Wyle, Sherry Stringfield; Anthony Edwards and that Clooney guy). And we forget how radical ER's multiple-stories-on-the-fly technique was, using long, fluent steadicam shots to give shape to a maze of powerful interlocking narratives. Holby City, get stuffed.

So-so sci-fi rom-com from John Carpenter, with Chevy Chase as a stockbroker who gets caught in a nuclear accident that turns him invisible; Daryl Hannah plays his love interest, Sam Neill the CIA heavy chasing him. Totally dependent on hackneyed visual gags and special effects that were superseded long ago, what remains is indulgent fluff.

Another Cavalry Movie from Ford, and this time Johnny Reb's in the firing line as Yankee Colonel Wayne leads his troops on a demolition mission and kidnaps feisty southern belle Constance Towers. Here Ford's portentous 'Civil War is Hell' message doesn't quite gel with his trademark tomfoolery-drunken gags, funny fistfights and casual misogyny. The resulting film is strangely blank.

From the brief heyday of the Czech new wave, Jiri Menzel's 1968 Oscar winner (Best Foreign Language Film) retains much bawdy charm and a bravely downbeat ending. A young railway station apprentice in a small town, oblivious to the climax of WWII, longs to get laid, finding relief with a comely Resistance fighter. More witty, imaginative and romantic than it sounds.