Beth Webb

Fennell throws everything at this fever-dream adaptation, which massages the senses while showcasing Elordi’s ever-growing star power. If only its electrically erotic energy was sustained to the end.

The execution doesn’t always keep up with the premise, but Fraser is an affable guiding light in this crowdpleaser about the complexities of connection.

Carmen Emmi compellingly mines thriller tropes to capture the fraught experience of suppressed sexuality, but it's Lucas and Andrew’s heart-rending, beautifully performed love story that endures.

Even when supercharged by Kirby’s unwavering star power, this distractingly muddled stab at social commentary baked into a hardboiled thriller lacks the momentum to make it to the morning.

Slightly chaotic plotting under-serves the story in places, but it’s saved by an endlessly entertaining Lohan and Curtis.

Unsurprisingly, HAVOC is at its best when we’re plunged into wall-to-wall carnage. It may not be for the faint-hearted, but this fist-flinging fever-dream sees Evans back near the top of his game.

Weird and wonky in the best way, this is a compelling character study that makes its joys, however fleeting, feel truly earned.

Compelling and excellently acted, September 5 is a shining study of journalistic integrity, even if it skips some of the bigger and more important questions raised by the event it documents.

An exploration of carnal desire that is at once fiercely erotic, nuanced and raucously funny, with Kidman charging into the breach, flaws bared, taking everything that Reijn hurls her way.

At once a frenzied fairy tale and a tender-hearted character study, Anora is an intoxicating pairing of director and star. Baker’s unique, humanistic approach to filmmaking is as riveting and rewarding as ever.

Its opening act may take some adjusting to, but succumb to the capable, captivating dynamic of these women and you won’t be disappointed.

With Edgar-Jones and Powell’s fizzing appeal at its epicentre, Twisters at once feels like a testament to a new generation of stars and a gripping old-school movie event. Fear it. Watch it.

More of a slow burn than a thrill-ride, this study of bygone motorhead mentality at its most visceral and violent is gorgeously shot — but only nicks the surface.

An eerie, beautifully executed study of duty, grief and wrestling, boasting an excellent cast, and a leap forward for its director. A heavyweight collective has just entered the ring.

By stifling Hart’s seasoned comedy-fuelled charisma, this overly stylised crime caper is a turbulent ride. Stay for Mbatha-Raw’s righteous action skills, which should propel her to bigger and bolder things.

With its woozy aesthetic and dynamic, beguiling cast, Priscilla is textbook Sofia Coppola: not breaking the mould, but a sublime continuation of her sad-girl sensibilities.

Critiquing the very thing it also sets out to do, Genie is the movie equivalent of a dog chasing its own tail, but is (barely) saved from the wrapping-paper pile by the amiable chemistry of its stars.

A corporate comedy of errors — but the film really shines thanks to Howerton, whose towering, shark-like performance makes him a villain for the ages.

Greta Gerwig delivers a new kind of ambitious and giddily entertaining blockbuster that boasts two definitive performances from actors already in their stride. Life after Barbie will simply never be the same again.

A touching and tender adaptation that does justice to a book which means so much to so many. An enduring, superbly performed triumph.

A remarkable ensemble of performers unite for this combustible, timely chamber-piece that hails the return of Polley as an ambitious and empirical filmmaker.

A daring, formally audacious yet messy ode to cinema from one of the most enterprising filmmakers working today. Bravura and baffling in equal measure. Strap in.

Rare and special is a film capable of summoning this much poignancy: a feeling which lingers well beyond the film’s final, achingly moving moments on screen. That Aftersun is the debut from British filmmaker Charlotte Wells only adds to its accomplishment.

Sidestep the somewhat over-egged stylistic touches and you’ll find a fun coming-of-age tale boasting three irresistible performances from Bella Ramsey, Billie Piper and Andrew Scott.

Elba’s performance as a lonely Djinn with a bottomless reserve of charm, paired with Miller’s unbridled energy, make this a modern fairy tale worth seeking out.

Weighted by a reliably mesmeric performance from Alan Cumming, this visually varied doc misses an opportunity to ask big questions, but still manages to pack a punch on a small scale.

Raiff’s assured and intelligent writing and direction, paired with the strength of its acting ensemble, make this an irresistibly charming, emotionally rich treat.

A compassionate and tenderly performed love story, with a musical current coursing through it. British cinema is lucky to have Clio Barnard.

An immersive and impassioned documentary from one of Britain’s most formidable filmmakers, which may be singular in its perspective but is as powerful to watch as it is painful.

The narrative here feels somewhat underdeveloped, but Campion remains a master of sensory storytelling, delivering a scorching study of masculinity rooted in fear.

A few flat ideas aside, this is a handsomely made horror film that expertly utilises the frightening talent of its young stars and draws Wright into a new, exciting chapter.

Though it doesn’t stray far beyond fan service, this is a comfortable extension of a beloved British show that delivers a reliable mix of quotable comedy and heart.

Lacking the boldness of originality and substantial character development, The Artist’s Wife nonetheless showcases Olin’s best performance in years and a brittle brilliance from Dern.

Spencer and McCarthy are the superheroes we deserve, but are capable of so much more than bowel-movement jokes in this tepid and formulaic buddy romp.

Another tenderly executed triumph from Francis Lee, and a captivating, serrated starring performance from Kate Winslet. Ammonite is a fine feat in British filmmaking craft.

Overused, hyper-stylised pop numbers aren’t enough to mask the catastrophic misjudgements that Sia has exercised here. Were Music merely hokey it could be forgiven, but its ham-fisted approach to sensitive issues make this a massive misfire.

Bolstered by Lee’s trenchant, intimate direction, Byrne reframes a peerless setlist of songs as a testament to hope and humanity that implores himself and his audience to keep going. A much-needed source of comfort and joy.