Ben Nicholson

Kelly eschews talking heads or expert testimony, and only rarely to characters flesh out the skeleton provided by occasional intertitles. When this style is employed for a single, short-term conflict, it can be incredibly powerful (just think of Sergei Loznitsa’s Maïdan) but Kelly’s film effectively drops the audience in situ at specific events within a much broader six-year framework without any context.

Di Giacomo doesn’t build sequences to heighten tension, although some is unavoidable. Often, the film follows the relatively mundane work of the Franciscan Father Cataldo Migliazzo, the film’s primary protagonist, and the otherwise everyday lives of those who come to him for help.

A compelling re-telling of the singer's story.

For all of the perfection of the period-detail browns and greys, Afterimage could have done with a touch more colour.

By focusing on the family, James makes Abacus about resilience and humility rather than the mechanics of litigation and in doing so underscores - perhaps more strongly than in other louder films on similar subjects - the injustice of the situation.

Like much of his recent scripted work, it's a mannered affair that's vague and clumsy.

The period atmosphere isn't alive with bold ideas as much as decay.

The story begins with the film's defining act and most accomplished sequence but, despite handsome execution, never hits those heights again in a plot where familiarity severely dampens the squib.

Striking a balance between the dark and combative religious humour and its more saccharine elements proves difficult.

For Herzog it is people that matter and he's just as fascinated by Elon Musk's gazing at the stars as those battering their keyboards or avoiding them altogether.

Louis Black and Karen Bernstein pay warm tribute to the filmmaker in what is a fitting ode to independent spirit more than a penetrating portrait.

The two stars stay on their game but their relationship is largely sidetracked in favour of fending off ghouls. While the heart rate may increase the creepiness dissipates, though The Autopsy of Jane Doe remains good genre fun - if little more.

It's not just some science-fiction about rodents preying on humans; it's a documentary about it. "They will literally kill us," explains a lecturer early on in what the filmmakers frame as a fully-fledged horror complete with jump-scares, an ominous score, and all manner of squeamish moments.

This is the fourth instalment in the Guest mockumentary 'canon' and it's evidence that the format has now solidified into a template that needs refreshing, as much gentle enjoyment as it might bring.

Gordon-Levitt is perfectly fine as Snowden, getting the voice and cadence fairly spot on and he looks almost right. The problem is that he's such an introvert and blank slate - that's pretty good for espionage but not especially compelling for a character arc.

It's an enjoyable jumpy imitation.

A drab and airless affair, it effectively ignores the substantial political commentaries inherent in its story, and fails to land the emotional punches of the one it's intent on telling.

It might seem unlikely that something so narratively simplistic and ultimately childish could sustain its runtime but the chaos and comedy of the haphazard gunplay is such that it only suffers from a handful of lulls.

Richard Wenk and Nic Pizzolatto's screenplay completely lacks the interpersonal vibrancy that a film like this needs and this is glaring given that it maintains the slow-build tension of the original.

Though it is clearly a work of great empathy and respect, Bobby Sands: 66 Days takes pains to offer alternative perspectives and as such makes for a richly textured and complex portrait of man, myth and movement.

Despite its claims to zaniness and colouring outside the lines, probably the most damning indictment of the silly Suicide Squad is that it's unrelentingly bland.

The political commentary feels far more explicitly pointed and widely integral than in previous incarnations which adds a bold new dynamic where perhaps the same re-inventive verve is lacking in the film's formulaic story. Fortunately, Greengrass and Damon are so in command of this material it's rarely too much of a concern. Even when little of substance seems to be happening, the narrative feels propulsive.

Shim directs well, but he lacks the verve for this to sail through on its visuals and although the denouement returns to the unconventional (discounting the unnecessary coda), the climax reduces the impact of what was otherwise an enthralling voyage.

There is meaning beneath the madness, but Men & Chicken is best recommended to those who are prepared to sit through the deeply sinister absurdity.

It's endearing, but unlikely to convert those that have previously resisted the director's charms.

As an entry into the Scandi police procedural genre, The Keeper of Lost Causes disappoints. As a TV pilot, however, it's serviceable yet unremarkable; the kind of thing that you'd probably give a couple more episodes in the vain hope that things will pick up.

The problem is that Apocalypse's highlights feel like moments of serenity amidst two-and-a-half-hours of lumbering, inconsequential chaos.

There's no doubt that the people that Fox singles out are worthy of his cameras attention, but it doesn't equate to a coherent feature film as much as an enormously wasted opportunity.

Husson sketches teenage ennui well, and crafts complicated and watchable characters around which to base the core of her drama. The slip-up comes in a final act that bows out of the previously constructed conflict in disappointingly obvious fashion.

Everything looks incredible, but the players are all just ciphers for ideas that Snyder lacks the wherewithal to execute.

For a film that vocally questions convention, it's perhaps a shame that Miller and co. played it so safe with a fairly cookie-cutter origin story, but it's really just there to give Reynolds ammunition to riff on. Whether the studio might be willing to push the character further into the leftfield in the future will depend on whether Deadpool warrants sequels.

The Hateful Eight is easily Tarantino's most fantastic film in terms of its visuals, its period detail and its award-worthy score, but it suffers from the director's common pitfalls while lacking the verve that so often carries him through.

Though there's an awful lot to be admired - not least an enormously impressive soundscape - The Revenant ultimately lacks the nerve-jangling thrills or the spiritual resonance that it strives for.

A deliberate almost-thriller that provokes many questions, but leaves answers equivocally out of focus right through to its conclusion.

It's impossible not to be sucked into, but it's equally impossible not to imagine how much more significant No Home Movie might have been.

It's a rancid cocktail of misogyny, homophobia, and much more besides, that never convinces as scathing satire as much as back-slapping celebration.

The Whispering Star may not be Sono at his most assertive - it certainly suffers in its middle section from the lack of thrust - but its imbued with tremendous resonance.

While there is hardship and anguish, Davies' deliberate and treatment of the source material ultimately lessens the dramatic impact even while it retains its splendour.

The visuals are undeniably impressive at times, as Henry parkours around the city or during a particularly tense shoot-out, but they also struggle with inevitable motion sickness of the frenetic handheld camerawork.

To suggest that One Floor Below operates at a simmer would be to exaggerate the level of heat being applied to the pot. This is one that Muntean is happy to let bubble intermittently, cranking the tension around on a scarcely-moving winch.

There are undoubtedly kinks to iron out - the film has a particular problem with pacing during a section that requires careful handling - but this is a handsome and assured feature and certainly suggests a bright future behind the camera for Portman, who also stars.

It's an undeniable hoot that plays very much to a specific audience but a word of warning: even those that are fans of this kind of ridiculous and farcical actioner might find themselves checking out of Yakuza Apocalypse before their stay is up. Again, with emphasis on the word 'might'.

The politics serves as footnote to the aesthetic for Wheatley and High-Rise is certainly style over substance. For fans of the British director, that may well be more than enough.

The Martian is ultimately a love letter to the spirit that saw humanity reach for the stars in the first place. When it's channelling that spirit via Damon and witty writing it lifts off, but then can't quite sustain its trajectory in orbit.

That Sy and Gainsbourg's love story never quite inflames the heart ultimately means that Samba remains a pleasant, rather than an enduring watch.

Woman in Gold is ultimately a worthy endeavour even when it is not entirely successful.

With no fun to be had, The Gunman also lacks essential thrills. If Sean Penn is winging for an action-hero renaissance like Neeson's, he'll be in need of material a lot more compelling than this.

There is a tender story about paternal love and the desire to do right by one's family within A Second Chance but, regrettably, Bier's brand of melodrama derails it before it begins.

Winterbottom's The Face of an Angel makes for compelling viewing, painting an arresting character portrait even if it avoids the direct engagement with the original (and much-discussed) crime that some people may have been expecting.

Araki does manage to give Kasischke's ending a subversive little twist, but the scenario has spawned numerous complex questions and while they may be given traction throughout, the rushed and forced conclusion leaves one simultaneously nonchalant and conflicted, much like Kat.

Neither player wins the audience's allegiance during the oft-strained game of seduction - much less convinces as a human being.

It is, after all, the Baymax show - and he is cute, cuddly, comedy gold. Fortunately, although Big Hero 6 has various flaws, he's generally on hand to patch them.

Despite a delicate handling of Kyle's internal struggles on home soil, deeper complexity appears to lie just out of frame throughout.

In only ever managing to skim the surface, the spirit of their crusade is never really evoked. What's left is ultimately a handsome, and at times heart-stopping voyage that never lives up to its classic forebears.

'71 is a pulse-raising actioner that stumbles a little in navigating the typically hazardous political terrain.

Certain sequences are handled exceptionally... but others feel overblown and some characters underwhelm. That’s not to say that Black Sea is not an enjoyable – and at times, enthralling – aquatic adventure, it just never quite thrills as much as it spills, and flounders during some of its more emotional beats.

With so many elements working on such a high plain, it is ultimately a shame that The Theory of Everything remains a formulaic biopic with a scope far narrower than its subject. Still, it broaches universal themes through the story of a man who studies the universe, and succeeds in being a life and love-affirming along the way.

It makes for entertaining viewing but its power is undermined by a ultimate lack of insight amongst the debauchery.

A sense of humour and nostalgia are both employed successfully to skirt the potential inertia of Paul's slowly declining career, and though de Givry's performance is quietly moving, one may have just hoped that Eden would get under its subject's skin a little bit more.

The sheer insanity of the premise alone is enough to make Tusk a surreal hoot.

Godard is not willing to sit back in his dotage but strives to push at the boundaries of the medium, resulting in this rich, witty and thoroughly baffling provocation. Less of a narrative or a thesis than an esoteric patchwork visual essay condemning our fallen society, it's intent on being as abrasive as possible in almost every way.

Taking Eastern watercolours as inspiration, the aesthetic is impressionistic and painterly with a fluidity that imbues the piece with an intrinsic magic.

Salvo ends up feeling like a very bright start for its creators but never quite finds a narrative or thematic drive to match its artistic verve.

Shock and awe are both present - as is Escalante's intense style - but Heli lacks the ideas or formal dexterity to constitute a state of the nation address in any but the most cursory of ways.

An uneven blend of melodrama and the horrors of civil war, it should be anchored by strong leads but instead remains listless and adrift.

Throughout, each of Ilo Ilo's performers give wonderfully naturalistic turns, providing the entire film with a heartening authenticity.

Although it fundamentally has many of the same issues as the first film, the strengths are enhanced in The Amazing Spider-Man 2 and it's certainly a step forward for the franchise. Now, let's give the web-head a villain worthy of his attention.

The main hook of The Long Riders is clearly in the casting, but this never feels gimmicky in a film that attempts to balance the pastoral and the brutal. It’s a noble ambition and one which works for the most part; there are occasions upon which it means a jarring switch of tone but largely the timbre remains consistently elegiac.

Stylishly shot and full of blood spraying from slashed necks, shoulders and stomachs, Lady Snowblood is a thoroughly enjoyable and arty exploitation flick which has deservedly gone on to become a cult hit.

Despite being lethargic at times, it's a rich portrait of people and place.