Dan Jolin

Blue Beetle owes a lot to the sheer wit and warmth of its supporting cast, which will earn it far more approval than its so-so CG antics and origin-story familiarity.

With Hercules, Brett Ratner and Dwayne Johnson are out to entertain you — no more, no less. And that is just what they do.

A fiendishly effective holiday-gone-wrong thriller that's better at cranking up the agoraphobic action than fleshing out its characters. Still, it'll find few fans at the Mexican Tourist Board...

Geoffrey Rush and Judy Davis, predictably impressive in the roles of abusive, alcoholic dad and troubled-but-tough mum.

A coming-of-age story which thoughtfully and heartfully tackles the repellent practice of conversion therapy. Moretz is excellent, but this summer camp/institution drama cocktail could have done with a little more fizz.

The film is let down by an approach that goes for impact over insight, but Last Breath is a worthy entry to the ‘hostile environment’ documentary subgenre.

This is unlikely to win Kathryn Lansky's antipodean owl fantasy any new fans, but even the bemused (and confused) can luxuriate in some grand-scale visual storytelling.

A compelling curio from Werner Herzog, who investigates a strange real-life phenomenon through a fictional lens. It's worth watching, especially if you enjoy Herzog's lateral take on life, but it's hard not to wish he'd just made it as a straight documentary.

Domestic chills, body horror, paranormal scares and gore-drenched action combine in a very distinct but rather uneven — and at times contentious — take on a classic monster icon.

Despite an occasional burst of self-mocking glibness (mostly via Robbie, who skirts but never quite tilts into the manic-dream-pixie playground), this is a movie that isn’t afraid of sincerity, and it brings a bit of silver-lining energy to our overcast world.

A decent, cogent, greyly atmospheric thriller with something to say about War-On-Terror America.

With Ember's hydro-electro-punk charms, Kenan's convinced us he's one of Hollywood's most exciting (and excited!) visualists. But on the evidence of this, his storytelling skills still need honing.

A solid, straightforward biopic about a fascinating individual and his destructive relationships, with strong performances and a healthy sense of naffness.

It also benefits from some engaging supporting characters.

While it proves an all-round well-mounted distraction, Ant-Man And The Wasp undeniably lacks the scale and ambition of recent Marvel entries.

Despite grasping for topicality and insight into human nature, Tron: Ares doesn’t have anything new or interesting to say.

Less Tales Of The Unexpected, more Tales Of The Unconvincing, this uneven comedy horror fails to handle its ambitious structure, or deliver on its promising premise.

Lacks the ‘ick’ factor of the earlier Bay-directed efforts, and Fishback and Ramos do a great job as the token humans, but this is still just silly and derivative.

Marginally better than Part One, but still a weird, messy and humourless sci-fi that gives you little reason to cheer the potential continuation of this Snyderverse.

Unless you pine for second-tier Mel Brooks, you'll find more laughs in the Old Testament itself.

The building may be taller than The Towering Inferno and the stakes may be higher than those faced by John McClane in Die Hard, but in comparison to both, Skyscraper is little more than a cinematic bungalow.

A handsome murder mystery with a neat literary twist and an impressive turn from Harry Melling, but which is overcast by the gloominess of its protagonist and the implausibility of its revelations.

Occasionally fun, always pretty, completely a mess, Casanova never quite finds its footing.

With a better story, director and support cast, Martin could have made Clouseau his own. Still, it's not as bad as the one with Roberto Benigni.

An opportunity to exploit childhood nocturnal fears is missed in a second-rate horror.

If you crave Emmerich-esque disaster-porn with a mega body count, there’s plenty here to OMG at. But when it comes to character depth or plotting, San Andreas is a sadly familiar wasteland.

Belying its title, this is a pretty flaccid offering which fails to gel the comedy stylings of Hart and Ferrell.

On the Ferrellometer, Talladega Nights sits just above "Kicking & Screaming," when it should be redlining it up there with "Anchorman."

Not the return to form you might have been hoping for. Its story might cover all the same beats as the 2003 original, but there’s little of that film’s spark or spirit.

Director Alan Taylor handles the big action adeptly as he did in Thor The Dark World, but the script is an ever-decreasing cycle of tool-ups, chase sequences and daft monologues.

Violent, silly, embarrassing, clumsy, confusing, juvenile, occasionally offensive, occasionally a little bit fun.

A handsome period drama with the occasional impressive flourish, but despite its rich subject matter, it's Affleck’s weakest film yet as a director.

An occasionally interesting but over-stretched attempt to recount Putin’s rise to power, best appreciated for the few moments in which Jude Law appears.

Bitty and frustrating, its bigger laughs are set against some off-balance storytelling and crude comedy. Not one to take your nan to.

A throwback thriller which brings nothing new to a crowded genre, and has little to say along the way. They don’t make ’em like this anymore, and, to be honest, they probably shouldn’t.

An initially cool premise that goes nowhere interesting as it heads off somewhere else too quickly. Hartnett does his best, but director Shyamalan seems more interested in trying to convince us of his daughter’s pop-star credentials.

Who Framed Roger Rabbit meets Meets The Feebles, in a disappointing adult comedy that never lives up to the promise of its premise.

The grave tone makes it stiff and leaden, the digi-saturated look is a turn-off. Damnable and disordered.

To be fair, pulling off complex action sequences in such unforgivingly high definition is a ballsy move—it’s much harder to hide the joins between what was captured in camera and what was added later. But as impressive as the action is—and a Smith-vs.-Smith motorcycle chase in Colombia is a superb sequence worthy of peak Bond—the high-definition format just doesn’t work.

Another summer threequel, another case of slipping standards – not so much in the visuals, which remain predictably impressive, but in the all-important gag rate. To waste both Donkey and Puss is a crime…

Bond without the style and Team America without the bellylaughs. The moronic script and nonsensical plot are good for a snicker, though.

Like Guy Ritchie’s King Arthur, this tries hard to do something new and exciting with an old formula. It quickly makes you wish for something more traditional and straightforward.

Despite Fischbach’s arguably admirable intent and exertion, this low-budget sci-fi horror makes Event Horizon look like 2001: A Space Odyssey.

All the boys might love Mandy Lane - discerning horror fans, however, will not.

The Merlot to "Sideways" Pinot, this is one of those middling movies that, while never terrible, also never really impresses.

A wildly ambitious space opera, but also a self-indulgent narrative morass. Sometimes, it seems, creativity can benefit from a few limitations.

It’s breezily fun at times, in a what-the-hey way. But, lumbered with a story that struggles to find resonance beyond its improbable plot devices and preposterous MacGuffinry, Justice League isn’t about to steal Avengers’ super-team crown.

Valiant though this low-budget attempt to reclaim Hellboy may be, it sadly lacks the storytelling and stylistic savvy to rise above its all-too-obvious budgetary limitations.

Writer/director Peter Landesman has turned out a film that nonetheless remains desperately conventional and never communicates that sense of inspiration.

An otherwise mundane rom-com that doesn’t know how to handle its one point-of-difference; and even that isn’t as much of a big deal as its writers think it is.

A hyperactive hot-pink mess of a movie, which fails to elevate its cubic source material and revels in that failure like it’s achieving something.

A botched Guardians wannabe that isn’t half as fun as you’d hope from the punky sci-fi promise of its video-game source material and the presence of Blanchett at the top of the cast list.

A muddled Wicker Man-inspired horror that has bursts of style, but fails to find depth beneath its blood-spewing surface.

This year's Dodgeball? Not a chance. Ferrell admirably tackles the so-so material, but it soon defeats him.

Fans of Moon and Source Code be warned: Mute is sadly, almost tragically, not worth the wait.

Too long, arduous, lecturey and patience-testing for even the all-new Matthew McConaughey to rescue. Director Ross is apparently so swamped by a sense of historical righteousness he hasn’t noticed he’s smothered a decent story.

A twist-burdened techno-thriller that would be by-the-numbers if it could count.

Better avoided unless you're doing a study on vaguely titillating rubbish 80s animation.