(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31.)

PIRANHA (1978). The years following the gargantuan success of 1975's Jaws found studios releasing an endless stream of copycat flicks of the "When Nature Strikes!" variety — ripoffs included Grizzly (dubbed Claws by industry wags) and the X-rated spoof Gums — but it's generally agreed that producer Roger Corman’s Piranha remains the best of the bunch; even Jaws director Steven Spielberg counts himself among the film's fans. The first screenwriting credit for future Oscar nominee John Sayles (Lone Star) as well as an early assignment for director Joe Dante (The Howling, Gremlins), Piranha sports a sense of humor to go along with the grisly critter attacks, as a boozy woodsman (Bradford Dillman) and a private investigator (Heather Menzies) stumble across a crazed scientist (Kevin McCarthy) who's experimenting on a pool full of mutated piranha; along the way, the couple accidentally release the ferocious fish into a nearby river. This was remade in 2010; other variances in recent times include Piranha 3DD, MegaPiranha, Piranhaconda and Piranha-Man Vs. WereWolf-Man: Howl of the Piranha. Trivia note: The in-name-only sequel, 1981's poorly received Piranha Part Two: The Spawning, marked the directorial debut of no less than James Cameron.

(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31 Here are the films that were selected Oct. 1-7. Click on the title to be taken to the review.)

Oct. 1: Day of the Dead (1985)

Oct. 2: Brotherhood of the Wolf (2001)

Oct. 3: The Thing from Another World (1951)

Oct. 4: Count Dracula (1970)

Oct. 5: Cat People (1942)

Oct. 6: Homicidal (1961)

Oct. 7: The Phantom of the Opera (1925)

(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31.)

THE PHANTOM OF THE OPERA (1925). One of the landmarks of silent cinema, this adaptation of Gaston Leroux's novel was also the film that firmly cemented Lon Chaney's reputation as a superstar as well as set the stage for Universal Pictures to continue producing definitive horror classics throughout the 1930s and 1940s. If it wasn’t quite the match of the fright fests that were being made over in Europe during this decade (Nosferatu, The Cabinet of Dr. Caligari), it was certainly one of the most epic American undertakings this side of D.W. Griffith and Cecil B. DeMille, with the Paris Opera and surrounding streets beautifully recreated on the studio lot and populated with that literal cast of thousands. There have been approximately a dozen screen versions of the story, but not one of the subsequent actors to essay the role of the Phantom — among them Robert Englund and Gerard Butler — came close to matching Chaney's brilliant portrayal. (Best among the runners-up was Claude Rains in the 1943 interpretation, largely playing up the tragic rather than horrific dimensions of the character.) Chaney, who also created his own makeup, is mesmerizing as Erik, the disfigured underground dweller who won't let anything stand in the way of his love for a singer named Christine (Mary Philbin). The picture admittedly suffers whenever Chaney's not around, but his string of remarkable sequences — including his unmasking at the organ and his entrance at the costume ball — make up for any shortcomings.

(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31.)

HOMICIDAL (1961). Producer, director and consummate showman William Castle clearly was influenced by (and often mimicked) Alfred Hitchcock, and Homicidal is such a blatant rip-off of 1960's Psycho that a lawsuit probably wouldn't have been without merit. Yet while traveling along similar lines, Castle and scripter Robb White manage to include enough originality that the shock ending still has the power to catch many viewers off guard. Unlike Psycho, this film's central blonde (played by Joan Marshall) is villain rather than victim, yet there's still a squeaky-clean heroine, her dullard boyfriend, a crotchety old woman in a wheelchair, and a soft-spoken young man. To reveal more would be criminal.

• Sony
• Looper

Click on the link to be taken directly to the review.

Butter

Frankenweenie

Hotel Transylvania

Looper

(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31.)

CAT PEOPLE (1942). The first of producer Val Lewton's series of acclaimed horror films from the 1940s, Cat People remains a small masterpiece of the genre: No less than Martin Scorsese has stated that the movie is "as important as Citizen Kane in the maturation of the American cinema." It was a commercial bonanza for RKO, earning a whopping $4 million return on its $134,000 shooting budget and paving the way for Lewton to retain creative control on his followups. The alluring Simone Simon stars as Irena, an Eastern European immigrant who meets and marries an American architect (Kent Smith). Forced to remain celibate because of an ancestral curse that will turn her into a panther if her emotions are aroused, she grows jealous of her frustrated husband's attention toward a pretty co-worker (Jane Randolph); this in turn leads to the movie's two classic set pieces, one involving Randolph's walk down a dark city street, the other focusing on her nocturnal swim at an indoor pool that's surrounded by menacing shadows and an even more menacing growl. Simon's Irena makes for one of the most tragic heroines ever seen on screen — a woman who, through no fault of her own, is deprived of the love she hungrily seeks. The movie's strong sexual currents and adult subject matter (when you get down to it, this is a film about impotence), amplified by ace director Jacques Tourneur and scripter DeWitt Bodeen, further lift it above the realm of the usual spook show.

(In anticipation of the coolest day of the year, this month-long series will offer one recommended horror flick a day up through Oct. 31.)

COUNT DRACULA (1970). While far from the upper echelons of the numerous Dracula films, I’m including it as a tribute to character actor Herbert Lom, who passed away last Thursday (Sept. 27) at the age of 95. In some respects one of the more faithful screen adaptations of Bram Stoker's Dracula, this English-language co-production of Spain, Italy and West Germany finds the prolific Jess Franco (with nearly 200 directing credits to his name) toning down his commonplace sex 'n' gore to present a stately version of the vampire classic. It's a good effort by all, even if it does fall short of complete success. Christopher Lee, who spent many years playing Dracula in Hammer Studios' successful franchise, here forsakes the animal magnetism and portrays the Count as a stuffy aristocrat who becomes visibly younger the more he drinks the blood of innocents. Franco provides an appropriately somber atmosphere for the proceedings, but an obvious low budget (the pack of wolves patrolling the terrain outside Dracula's castle is played by a pack of German shepherds) and wretched performances by the no-name actors in the supporting ranks seriously damage the picture's pedigree. Lom, best known as the twitching Chief Inspector Dreyfus in The Pink Panther series, was an interesting choice to play Professor Van Helsing (Franco originally tried to snag Vincent Price), while it's amusing to see Klaus Kinski as the insect-munching Renfield, nine years before he graduated to the role of bloodsucker in Werner Herzog's Nosferatu remake.