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Well remembered or not, The Prowler (aka Rosemary's Killer) is an almost perfect formulaic slasher film; a film that further establishes the archetypes and somehow distinguishes itself as among the best. Stylish, frightening, and atmospheric, with wonderful gore by Savini, it's a must-see for lovers of the genre. I'm amazed by the low ratings people give it. It's far better than almost any other slasher I can think of, including movies like The Burning and every Friday 13th after Part 2 (including the same director's Part 4 of the series). Joseph Zito did a brilliant job with this. Pure 1980s fun.

Don't heed the negative reviews. This is an absolutely excellent thriller from Anna Kendrick. The direction is intelligent and assured, the pacing superb, the acting very good. It has a distinct and intricate look and feel, with beautiful production design and art direction by Brent Thomas and Shannon Grover. They've created an authentic-feeling 1970s mise en scène.

Kendrick and writer Ian McDonald elicit moments of great tension mixed with a kind of dark, uncomfortable, intimate humour which inexorably draws the viewer in. They create a world in which men unquestionably rule the culture; where women are the subjects of endless patronisation and objectification; unwilling players in the infantile, destructive emotional catharses of unhinged men. It's a world primed to produce - almost inevitably - a repugnant killer like Alcala.

A tired, boring, pointless, unlikeable piece of rubbish that will make you simultaneously squirm and drift into sleep, or - worse - drift into daydreams about a time when cinema still lived and breathed like a fantastic tree, branching into unknown and vital realms, reflecting the growing awareness and eroding naïveté of our species as it led us into new experiential and psychological landscapes that felt like profound, revolutionary, forbidden journeys into the hidden recesses of our collective consciousness to contrast and relieve the everyday foreboding behind our eager eyes, forever searching as we do for a place where divine order, justice, love, vindication, harmony, dread, lust, and narcissism reign, inextricably tied to the trauma of world wars and perpetuating itself by creating lands that cannot be visited; a world into which one cannot be born; battles too frightening to be fought; heroics that cannot be attained; revenge too final to be real.