Make the rounds in Los Angeles.

Laura Palmer gets her own story. The film that looked excessive in 1992 now feels central to Twin Peaks.

Loose indie rock and soft-focus pop scaled up to the Bowl.

Blonde Redhead still sits comfortably between dream-pop, noise and elegant guitar music.

A schoolgirl takes six friends to her aunt's house. The house eats them. Obayashi makes it look like a deranged TV commercial.

Ojos del Sol gets the anniversary treatment, with Luz Elena Mendoza's folk songs pushed through psych and Latin rhythms.

Cameron takes Ridley Scott's haunted-house setup and turns it into a war movie.

John Carpenter traps graduate students in a church with a cylinder of ancient evil. The science does not help.

Tightly written stand-up from a comic who can move from old movies to personal disaster without forcing the turn.

William Friedkin's 1973 possession film. The shock has faded; the dread has not.

A werewolf film about two teenage sisters who already hate the world before the biting starts. Maggie Mae Fish joins the screening.

Chicago psych-rock, cumbia and jazz played with enough looseness to keep the edges visible.

Bernard Rose turns a Chicago housing project, an urban legend and Tony Todd's voice into one of the '90s' best horror films.

Short, sharp indie rock with hooks that never needed much decoration.

A foundational Brooklyn MC on a Hollywood stage far smaller than his standing.

Alejandro Rose-Garcia built the name on one-man-band folk before growing it into a full, crooked roots-rock show.

Warm, unfussy guitar music with a clear line back to '70s studio pop.