Alex Flood

It’s not all wide-eyed insight and romantic misery though. Past Lives is also very, very funny.

Yes, we get footage of the alien glam god, Ziggy Stardust, strutting across stage and scrambling teen minds with his otherworldly rock and roll. But off-duty, Morgen portrays a quieter icon – deeply thoughtful, often isolated and with a quirky sense of humour.

It’s all properly violent and uncivilised.

For those who were there, the film provides a portal back to a golden age. For everyone else, it’s a reminder of those special teen years – when a plastic cup filled with warm lager and a sunny afternoon in a park makes for the biggest adventure of your life.

Scream movies usually follow the same, tried-and-tested format, but directors Matt Bettinelli-Olpin and Tyler Gillett should get credit for an attempt to reinvent their villain.

A really quite good film has been overshadowed needlessly. And that’s a real shame.

Hope, then, is the film’s lasting message. Hope that it’ll spark much-needed conversations. But also hope that they won’t be so needed in the future.

Radcliffe’s winning performance – like a goofy high-schooler who wins the lottery – is enough to keep everyone laughing. Top that off with an album’s worth of quirky cameos, including Conan O’Brien’s genuinely laugh-out-loud Andy Warhol impression, and you’ve got a cult classic in the making. M-m-m-myyy bologna

There’s more to Wilson’s film than dread though. In between the terror, the newbie director makes time for actual plot.

Director Scott Barber does well to present “the world’s sickest band” as a loving family of weirdos. Yes, they had issues. Yes, they fell out from time to time. Yes, they might’ve sprayed a little less sperm. But who amongst us can say any different?

There’s no big twist to speak of, but this is a white-knuckle thrill ride that’s up there with Shyamalan’s most gripping work.

This might not be what fans expect from an Exorcist movie, but they’ll be even more surprised that it’s actually watchable.

To say any more would spoil the film, but rest assured this is top-drawer MCU.

If you’re already a fan, the next few weeks will be spent making playlists of lesser-known B-sides or reading the lore around a scene you weren’t familiar with. And that’s why it was a good idea to make this film – a mad idea, but a good one.

Director Matt Reeves has mixed up gritty mob drama with film-noir detective thriller – and thanks to Dano’s ultra-creepy villain, some psychological horror too. Most of the time it comes off brilliantly.

Sprinkled throughout are marketing messages (“Barbie means you can be anything”) that sound like they come straight from a press release. Gerwig is clever enough to deliver these with self-awareness and some sarcastic jokes (Mirren thanking Barbie for ending misogyny is a highlight), meaning the balance between reality and commercial is never lost. For a movie that ostensibly exists to promote a doll, this is laudable.

The great storyteller has been careful in interviews to remind us The Fabelmans is only semi-autobiographical, but everything cuts so deep that you’re left wondering if Spielberg left any of the truth out at all.

Saltburn isn’t the most talked-about party of the year, but you shouldn’t miss it all the same.

Apart from the usual stylistic clichés, this isn’t your typical Anderson movie. Structurally, it’s unconventional.

It’s a familiar story, to be honest. But even if Bond seems the same as ever, the world he exists in isn’t.

Though it plays like a glitzy musical in the mould of Bohemian Rhapsody, Elvis also works as a much-needed lesson about America’s cultural history.

Denis Villeneuve’s new reboot thankfully ditches the silly, but it does take itself extremely seriously.

By the apocalyptic and slightly predictable ending – come on, another quasi-spaceship assault? – Johansson’s swansong has cycled through futuristic sci-fi, buddy comedy, escape adventure and teary drama.

A funny, action-packed and, of course, fast-paced adventure follows – with a surprisingly moving emotional centre.

If you loved Gladiator, it’s odds-on you’ll enjoy this too. It’s got all of the same exciting bits – swordfighting, rousing speeches, nasty poshos getting what they deserve. The problem is that’s all it gives you. You want to feel like you’re watching Maximus lift off his helmet and deliver that iconic monologue for the first time again. You want the thrill of a core memory being unlocked. You want to know you’ll be quoting Mescal’s lines to your mates in the pub for the next 10 years. Gladiator 2, piously respectful as it is, can only offer a faded memory of that experience. There was a dream that was Rome – and this is kind of it.

Dead Reckoning’s spectacular finale does well to bring things back on brand – seriously, the closing action tableau is as impressive as any you’ll see – but by then most will have stopped caring because their heads hurt.

Saving the day this time isn’t Poirot, but the city itself which Branagh captures in all its decadently crumbling glory.

There’s a bit of perfunctory plot to get past – Rake has repressed guilt involving his ill son and ex-wife that needs resolving – but character development is not this film’s strong point. In fact, it’s often baffling.