Rob Zombie takes his brand of hillbilly horror to new unpleasant levels with his follow-up to the much-maligned reboot of the Halloween series. Once again, gone is the slow-brewed tension that the franchise was framed upon. In its place are a series of brutal exercises — not only in onscreen deaths, but in genre filmmaking as a whole. The release that usually comes with enjoying a slasher film has been changed to sheer repulsion — and this doesn’t come from a conservative standpoint either. Zombie’s fetishized portrayal of violence baffles the brain with its mix of in-your-face gore and unrepentant viciousness, as if a homicidal maniac was let loose in Vietnam, complete with an MTV director filling in as a war photographer following his every move. One might think there was a method to this madness, but then, mixed with the sheer pretension of the added fantastical elements, it becomes quite clear that Halloween II is simply a mess — made by a misguided filmmaker whose access to Hollywood properties apparently comes with no barriers.

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Welcome to The Final Destination, a world where anything more injurious than a wet Q-tip on a shag carpet will explode your body into a crimson mist of blood and bone dust. Surrender yourself to the fact that Hollywood could quite possibly go on making Final Destination films forever, and then the only question left to ask yourself is “Does this particular one deliver the gruesome goods?”

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Reminiscent of both Yasujiro Ozu’s Tokyo Story and Kiyoshi Kurosawa’s Tokyo Sonata in tone, this Japanese family drama explores a day in the lives of relatives as they commemorate the death of a beloved son. Though Still Walking features little plot development, it boasts well-crafted characters and painfully honest dialogue.

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Just like its magazine subject, The September Issue begins and ends with Anna Wintour. R.J. Cutler’s documentary appropriately opens with a close-up on the Vogue editor in chief, who dictates seemingly every aspect of the magazine’s production as well as fashion itself. In the film, she lends her insight to designers including Karl Lagerfeld, Jean-Paul Gaultier, and rising star Thakoon Panichgul, while one observer calls her the most powerful woman in the world. Vogue is fashion’s bible, Wintour its god, and The September Issue captures divine inspiration as she and her staff craft the magazine’s biggest issue yet: the September 2007 edition, which weighed almost five pounds and boasted 840 pages. “Less is more,” declares Wintour in the months of preparation for the massive issue, but it’s hard to see where this mandate fits in with the magazine’s fashion or editorial philosophy.

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If you’re a loser by society’s standards, yet you refuse to accept or even acknowledge that label, then — technically speaking — does it still apply? That’s the question writer/director Robert Siegel asks about Paul Aufiero, the football-obsessed, nonconformist character in Big Fan, and it’s just one of the nuances that makes the film such a fascinating psychological study in fandom. The term “fan” is tossed around so casually these days that it’s easy to forget its somewhat more ominous origins. Paul is more a fanatic than a fan — his obsession with the New York Giants has almost certainly impeded his personal growth and social development — but despite appearing somewhat pathetic to the casual observer (or even his close family), the truth is that his misfit status empowers him.

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Director Ang Lee and screenwriter James Schamus use a transformative event in American pop-culture history as a springboard to explore one man’s personal growth, and they do so with gentle humor and nuance in Taking Woodstock. A surprisingly intimate drama given that it deals with such a monumental event, the film captures the excitement and energy of Woodstock, yet never loses sight of the deeply personal tale it sets out to tell. With rock-solid performances from everyone including relative newcomer Demetri Martin, and a refreshingly subtle score from Danny Elfman, it’s a relaxed comedy drama that speaks directly to our need to accept social change or remain forever imprisoned by our own prejudice.

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There are elements of a Quentin Tarantino film you can always count on — upturning genre conventions, strong female characters, extended conversational detours, and forceful violence. Right from its engaging, nail-biting beginning, Inglourious Basterds overflows with QT’s signature style.

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Robert Rodriguez, director of such awesome highs as Spy Kids, and such icky lows as Shark Boy and Lava Girl, probably has a lot of people wondering which end of the spectrum he’s hit with his latest family-friendly effort, 2009’s Shorts. Well, the verdict is in. If you are ten years old, then you might be happy with a movie about technologically magical devices that can do anything (PDA? Laptop? Electric razor?), mystical rocks that grant poorly stated wishes in literal terms (I wish you’d just GROW UP! Ruh-roh!), and angry alligators that run around on their hind legs (actually pretty terrifying). If you are a grown-up, then you might be mildly amused with a movie full of booger jokes, trite life lessons, and James Spader’s big, fat face. Either way, you won’t be miserable, but by the same token, you won’t be ecstatic either.

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