It’s the announcement that breaks many a film fan’s heart. A beloved effort, a movie they can’t imagine being any better or entertaining, is cleared for the commercial complaint known as the pointless remake. Immediately, fond memories are assaulted and considered classicism upended for another run at generational merchandising. Sometimes, the gamble pays off in ways wholly unexpected (David Cronenberg’s The Fly, John Carpenter’s The Thing). In other instances, more than time and talent is/was wasted.

Take the latest entry in this ongoing aesthetic debate—Len Wiseman’s Total Recall. Many have a very warm place indeed in their outsized action movie hearts for the original Paul Verhoeven/Arnold Schwarzenegger epic. It’s a quotable, entertaining hoot. This update, with Colin Farrell, Kate Beckinsale, and Jessica Biel may be more high tech and ostentatious, but it pales in comparison to the crazy quilt camp of the original. Instead of being fun, it’s forced.

Is there a more interesting motion picture chameleon than Danny Boyle. From his early days in theater and his stint at the BBC, few could fathom what he would eventually turn into. Now, after introducing the world to his beloved home country as artistic director of the 2012 London Olympics, the Oscar winning filmmaker is back in the spotlight… and oh, how pretty the glare is. Few could have imagined, way back at the midpoint of the ‘90s, that this maverick would end up one of the best directors currently working. Yes, his films showed that flash of promise, but as quickly as he came up, he was set back by his own choices. It took a good five years for Boyle to get back on track, but when he did… in fact, it’s safe to say that, post problems, he has become one of most dependable and different auteurs. He has vision. He has ambition. And he takes risks. Lots of them.

With the games going gangbusters, it’s time to reflect on Boyle’s career behind the lens. A few caveats have to be mentioned, however. First, we are avoiding anything he did for television. This means we will not be ranking Strumpet, Vacuuming Completely Nude in Paradise, or the things he did prior to 1991. We also won’t be addressing his sole short (Alien Love Triangle) or his choices as producer. No, we will deal exclusively with the nine films he’s fashioned from 1994 onward, with one wild card thrown in for good measure. When viewed in total, this list becomes an unique perspective on an even more unusual talent. Boyle may be known for taking chances and exceeding expectations, but he’s far from perfect. In fact, the first two films here show that, when pushed and pulled by outside (read: studio) sources, he can come up with crap, beginning with…

Ambition is in short supply in today’s Hollywood. Yes, some might consider Christopher Nolan’s take on Batman to be a bit on the grand side, but he’s also dealing with material that is decidedly outsized. That he keeps his comic book characters grounded in a sense of reality and humanity is about as far as his vision goes. No, unless it’s micromanaged down to a specific niche demo and accompanying formula, unless it’s made to maximize receipts both here and (more importantly) abroad, Tinseltown tends to steer clear. Perhaps that’s why the web has been buzzing over the first trailer from the seemingly epic effort from The Matrix‘s Wachowskis in collaboration with Run Lola Run‘s Tom Tykwer. In scope and storytelling span alone, the October release of Cloud Atlas appears destined to stir passions and fuel aesthetic debate.

When you consider the background of the artists involved, such schisms would be hard to deny. Andy and Lana (formerly Larry) made a massive splash with their philosophical sci-fi take on virtual reality. To this day, fanboys are either celebrating their trilogy as one of the best, or lamenting its placement in the law of diminishing sequel returns. As for Tykwer, he’s been out of the loop since Franka Potente turned a goal of saving her misguided boyfriend into a three part exercise in gamer grandstanding. Sure, he’s made five films since then (and a few before), but outside of Perfume: The Story of a Murder he’s not been part of the practiced industry conversation. In fact, outside The International, few recent audiences would know who he is.

The spaghetti western is one of those rare instances when a change literally saved a genre. Previously, filmmakers and TV suits had drained the once dynamic cinematic style of all its vigor and vitality, running the cowboy and enemy set-up deep into the realm of redundancy. But by adding a level of realistic violence and strict morality/cautionary narratives, the Italians and the Spanish, as well as other foreign aficionados, fashioned the oater into a pre-post modern motion picture preamble. Everything that would come out in the next few decades - the gangster and crime films of the ‘70s and ‘80s, the gory horror films of the same era, the over the top action and black/white hat histrionics within such spectacles - could be found in its b-movie make-up. There’s even elements of arthouse and other independent movements present. Within this aesthetic update, there were many greats - Leone, Corbucci, Petroni, Tessari - and with the release of two obscure examples of the revisionist horse opera, two more names should be added to the list.

Indeed, Damiano Damiani (Bullet for a General) and Giulio Questi (Django Kill…If You Live, Shoot! ) aren’t usually mentioned among the luminaries they shared cinematic space with, but their output argues for skill and vision on par with said peers. As with many within the exciting subgenre, they came to the approach as a means of achieving some commercial cache. The late ‘60s saw a supply and demand boom, and many who wanted into the business found an avenue with the spaghetti western. In Damiani’s case, his time in the category was a mere jumping off point for a longer, legitimate career behind the lens. For Questi, his sequel in name only to the Corbucci classic led to an equally engaging take on the emerging giallo genre. After Death Laid an Egg in 1968, however, his creative career was sporadic, at best. Now Blue Underground gives us a chance to see these lost classics in all their high definition, and the results should rewrite the rulebook when it comes to who best delivered the ultraviolent six gun goods.

It’s impossible to reinvent a genre. Just ask the numerous amateur (and professional) horror maestros who continuously attempt to find new ways to scare us. Even more unfeasible is hitting original gold twice in a row. As they like the say, the sequel to something sensational usually sucks. Enter Jaume Balagueró and Paco Plaza. This dynamic duo is responsible for one of the most amazing one-two punches in all of foreign fright. It takes real talent - extreme talent - to tackle two major borderline DOA terror tropes (the zombie film and the found footage format) and make it work. Not only did their [REC] revitalize even the most cynical scary movie fan’s faith in their favorite film type, but their equally ambitious and masterful [REC]2 managed the unfathomable feat of expanding on the established mythology while making its own case for creepshow classicism.

Now comes the heavily anticipated [REC]3: Genesis, and it’s destined to make some devotees scream with…frustration? Indeed, while many were anticipating a return to that haunting Barcelona apartment complex to see what happened to our favorite survivors, Plaza (handling the directing duties solo) has instead decided to go a bit…sideways? While the title suggests a prequel, this is actually a contemporary story, events happening concurrently with the ones involving our camera crew and a residence filled with…well, let’s not ruin the surprise there. If you go in excepting more of the same, you’ll probably be disappointed, maybe vastly so. If you recognize, however, that Plaza is going for something along the lines of Freddy vs. Jason and The Cabin in the Woods, you’ll cheer for this well done bit of meta macabre.