Has Hollywood just completely given up on the horror anthology? Its failure to not give something as awesome as Trick ‘r Treat a theatrical release suggests the answer is “yes.” Look elsewhere to get your ominous omnibus fix — particularly, to Thailand, for the frightening foursome known as 4bia.

Read that as “phobia,” for each segment plays upon a different fear, with directors taking turns at taking the helm, and no wraparound segment to force threading them together. The first and simplest story concerns a lonely young woman who doesn’t realize the mystery man she’s texting on her cell phone is actually dead … until he comes to pay a visit.

Next, a bullied youth takes revenge on his tormenters via that old black magic, followed by a campfire tale that name-drops a slew of scary movies as it pays homage to the more “spirited” ones. The campers experience real terror, but hey, at least they’re not made to “squeal like a pig.” Finally, a female flight attendant finds that transporting a corpse in an otherwise empty jet offers many an opportunity for tummy turbulence.

4bia is slick and sick, with each segment effective because it’s roughly a quarter of the length of the running time into which many Asian films overextend their thin plots. The movie hasn’t had an official U.S. release yet — you’d think Lionsgate would put it paws all over it — but if it did, I’d buy it. The anthology film is alive and well. You just have to cast your eyes overseas for it. —Rod Lott

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So maybe you saw the 2008 American horror movie Quarantine and thought it was pretty good. Even then, I knew it was a remake of a Spanish film called [Rec]. Now I’ve seen the original and while I still think Quarantine is okay, I’m here to tell you that [Rec] is a 24-carat-solid-gold, plow-pulling, lottery-winning, mind-melting pants-pisser. I jumped out of my skin so often, I’m not sure I can get it back on again.

Manuela Velasco stars as Angela Vidal, one of those cute and perky TV reporterettes who get all the cat-stuck-in-tree human interest stories. She and her cameraman, Pablo (heard, but unseen real cinematographer Pablo Rosso), are doing a piece on what firefighters do when they’re not fighting fires, and this night, they’re called to an aging apartment building because some old woman is frighteningly sick. Like, she wants to bite people and rip large chunks of flesh off and devour them.

And then the corpses she leaves behind become reanimated and pick up her bad habits. And the cops show up, bringing the Army with them, and they seal off the building and won’t let anyone out.

As with the remake, [Rec] is shown to us through Pablo’s camera, so there’re a lot of jittery images, but it works better because co-directors Jaume Balaquero and Paco Plaza make the camera a character and not just a cinematic gimmick. The explanation of the insta-plague is also different in Spanish, and much spookier. Even the language works for non-Spanish speakers because it adds to the confusion.

I’ve never been to Spain, but I kinda like the horror. So will you. —Doug Bentin

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By all rights, I should be good and pissed about 30 Days of Night: Dark Days. The direct-to-DVD sequel is based on one of my favorite graphic novels ever, but takes my favorite character from that book and makes him barely more than a disposable catalyst to get the plot moving. In Steve Niles and Ben Templesmith’s printed version, the vampire Dane changes the way we — and Stella, the main character — see the bloodsuckers in the 30 Days of Night world. He’s also the third member of a deliciously morbid love triangle that includes Stella and her dead undead husband.

In director Ben Ketai’s version (although, to be fair, Niles co-wrote the script), Dane simply introduces Stella to a bunch of other vampire hunters and then disappears to let the humans have all the fun. And fun they have, which is why I can’t get angry about it.

Well, they don’t have fun. Not with all the bleeding and dying and smashing friends’ heads in with cement blocks that goes on. But it was gory, gruesome fun for me. And even though the movie takes other, huge liberties with the original story (simplifying some things; completely changing others, like what the vampires are up to), Niles and Ketai came up with a story that, allowed to stand by itself, holds together in an entertaining way.

The film isn’t as visually inventive as David Slade’s 30 Days of Night, but Ketai and his crew have obviously thought about some of the same things that Slade wrestled with, like how to make the movie look like Templesmith’s unique artistic style. They did a nice job of coming up with their own solutions, while also using enough of Slade’s techniques to tie the two movies together visually. —Michael May

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Honestly, I’m cool with direct-to-video horror sequels. What they lack in big-name stars, they make up for in gore. See Wrong Turn 3, 30 Days of Night: Dark Days and, now, Mirrors 2.

Looking like Dexter‘s little brother, Nick Stahl plays Max, still grieving over the car-crash death of his fiancé. His dad (William Katt) hires him to be the night watchman of his soon-to-open upscale department store. He’ll be replacing the one whose mirror image happily chewed broken glass, causing his own face and mouth to be cut up.

And so it goes that upper management get killed as they watch their mirror images do gruesome things, such as slicing their own tendons. The best death scene comes when Christy Romano (formerly Disney’s squeaky-clean Kim Possible) meets a really bloody death in the shower after soaping up her new, ugly fake boobs.

While the first half plays like Final Destination in the creative deaths department, the second finds Max and second-half love interest Emmanuelle Vaugiér attempting to solve the riddle behind these gruesome shenanigans. Maybe it makes more sense if you’ve seen the first Mirrors; I haven’t. As director, DTV vet Victor García (Return to House on Haunted Hill) brings visual class to these proceedings, yielding a satisfying fright flick, even if it’s completely void of frights (Katt’s middle-age ponytail notwithstanding). —Rod Lott

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When I was a child, Terror Train freaked me out. Today, I realize there’s nothing scary about it, outside of a creepy Groucho Marx mask, an overabundance of disco tunes, and hairdos as misbegotten as the truly awful dialogue. Still, the movie’s enjoyable enough as a partially derailed example of the ’70s’ slasher craze.

Basically Halloween on a train, but with the menacing suspense left behind at the station, this choo-choo chiller details what happens (bad things!) when a bunch of asshole college seniors embark on a coke-and-booze-fueled train trip, complete with David Copperfield doing a magic show. They all wear Halloween costumes, even though it’s New Year’s Eve.

Smart, they’re not. Especially because that nerdy pledge they humiliated with a mean prank four years ago is all aboard for revenge. They made him think he was gonna make it with Jamie Lee Curtis, but had a corpse waiting instead. So he dons mask after mask and goes bonkers with a big ol’ knife.

In an unrated cut, Terror Train might have real bite. As is, it’s more of a curiosity than ticket-punching winner. Jamie Lee doesn’t even get much to do, but the third-act sequence with her in a conductor’s cage is the only set piece that approaches real fright. It leaves big questions in terms of plot holes and logic, plus the burning “Will they cast Criss Angel for the inevitable remake?” —Rod Lott

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