Ian Freer

Joining the ranks of Sphere, DeepStar Six and Leviathan as soggy Alien do-overs, Underwater finds a few tweaks to the monster play book, but not enough to make it live.

Despite the odd strong moment, this Bloodshot is anaemic.

Despite good performances and an interesting milieu, The Wedding Guest doesn’t deliver as an exciting genre piece or thought-provoking drama. Michael Winterbottom is a master in many areas but the thriller seems beyond him this time.

The leads work hard and there’s an attempt to add fun via cheesy music and Salma Hayek, but hackneyed dynamics, half-baked action sequences and saying “m#th&rf$ck*r” does not a Shane Black make.

There should be something fun in watching Academy Award winner Octavia Spencer drop C-bombs and go apeshit. Instead, Ma is an ersatz, misjudged exercise in psycho-horror that lacks the courage of its B movie convictions.

There is the odd funny moment, but The Art Of Racing In The Rain relies too heavily on the charms of its golden retriever. It might be built on the notion that dogs are the wisest of us all, but the end result winds up stupid.

Serenity is a genuine headscratcher, baffling on almost every level. Badly scripted, strangely acted and poorly pitched, there is so much to pick over it’s hard to know where to begin. Sometimes the best of bold intentions are just not enough.

A forced, over-ripe satire on the hunger for social media, bolstered by an engaging performance by Joe Keery. But if you really want to feel the real-life impact of the ’Gram on a young psyche, stick with Eighth Grade.

There is some nice insight into cycling-team practices, but overall The Racer lacks sufficient nuance, specificity and originality to nab the yellow jersey.

Despite the formidable talents of Timothy Spall and Vanessa Redgrave, Mrs Lowry & Son doesn’t really get under the skin of the artist or the man, resulting in a film as dreary as Pendlebury’s colourless skies.

Escape Room is like The Crystal Maze with more death. It’s fun at the start then loses its way, but it’ll do until ‘Flossing: The Movie’ comes along.

Boasting a powerhouse cast, The Last Full Measure has the best of intentions, to celebrate servicemen without condoning war, but winds up with little else.

Blue Iguana grates on pretty much every level, a misjudged hodge-podge of ill-defined characters, tired filmmaking licks and an air of general unpleasantness. It also contains one of the worst shootouts in recent memory.

This is probably worse than you’d expect, even from a sequel to a sequel to a sequel to a sequel to a sequel.

A risible attempt to modernise classic science-fiction by adding WhatsApp and political chicanery. This thin, frenetic, soulless adaptation is misguided moviemaking cubed.