Jaime King and Megan Boone in My Bloody Valentine 3-DMY BLOODY VALENTINE 3-D

You can assume you're in good hands at a modern horror movie when, within its first couple of minutes, that grizzled, '80s-scare-flick veteran Tom Atkins (he of The Fog and Creepshow and Halloween III: Season of the Witch) shows up as a scowling local sheriff. You pretty much know you're in good hands when the very first thing that Atkins growls, upon finding himself ankle-deep in holiday-themed carnage, is "Happy fuckin' Valentine's Day!" And if, by some miraculous happenstance, you get to watch this seminal genre moment occur while wearing 3-D glasses, to boot... . Well, I've seen better movies than My Bloody Valentine 3-D recently, but bless its forcibly-removed heart, I can't remember the last one that made me feel - in a good way - like a 13-year-old again.

Gerard Butler in 300300

Whatever its problems, and they are myriad, you can't say that Zack Snyder's 300 doesn't give you plenty to look at. Adapted from Frank Miller's and Lynn Varley's graphic novel, the film - which follow s the ancient Spartan army in a wildly violent, self-sacrificing battle against Persian forces - is filled with memorably outré images: an enormous tree and a 20-foot-high wall, both composed entirely of corpses; a triad of elephants, backed over a cliff, that plunge to their deaths; the sky blackening with what appear to be locusts, instead proving to be the incoming trajectory of thousands of steel-tipped arrows. In 300, Snyder shows a remarkable gift for graphic-novel composition, and continually keeps your eye engaged. Too bad the same can't be said of your brain.

Scarlett Johansson and Ewan McGregor in The IslandTHE ISLAND

If we absolutely must endure movies by Michael Bay, we could do a lot worse - we have done a lot worse - than The Island. As usual, there isn't a plot point or turn of character here that Bay doesn't make wincingly obvious, and, apparently, there's no getting rid of either his tiresome sentimental streak or his sniggering, insulting stabs at "humor." (When Bay attempts to be serious I giggle, and when he tries to make jokes, I go numb.) But I'd be lying if I didn't admit to being reasonably entertained by The Island. Bay has hold of an intriguing story idea, and even if the movie eventually turns into routine action-thriller nonsense, at least that nonsense is delivered with speed, a few memorable images, and even something resembling humanity. Like all Michael Bay movies, The Island runs a good bit over two hours. Unlike the others, I barely noticed.