Although the most prolific of those directors who rose from the ranks of exploitation films in the 70s, John Carpenter's flame may have burned the brightest but it also burned the most briefly before he descended into lifeless hackwork. Even the more promising projects floundered when confronted with his increasingly pedestrian handling. His 1995 remake of Village of the Damned is a classic example. Ill-advisedly relocated to a California coastal town inhabited by Superman, Luke Skywalker and Crocodile Dundee's girlfriend, the special effects are more prominent and the body count is multiplied more than ten times as villagers burn themselves to death, impale themselves, doctors blind or perform autopsies on themselves, all staged with remarkable flatness and a complete lack of atmosphere or foreboding. A few good ideas are thrown in, but aside from one schoolroom sequence and the foolproof "brick wall" ending, it's desperately dull and under characterised stuff that feels like it was made by a wage slave reluctantly punching a time clock every day. More like Village of the Darned, the most mysterious thing about it is just how Michael Pare managed to get such prominent billing when he doesn't even make it past the title sequence.