Director's Cut and Paste, Revisited, Part 2

When a stranger calls, the shining city lights die hard behind enemy lines. I walk the line out of the past roots, where the red fern grows in cold blood of mice and men. The thin red line short cuts a nightmare on Elm Street. The searchers don't look now within these walls. In the heat of the night, the illusionist cast away titanic cries and whispers. The silence of the lambs never cry wolf while you were sleeping. (Each line is a separate movie title.)