Ian Freer

What The Phantom Of The Open lacks in ambition or dramatic oomph, it makes up for in easy-going appeal. Anchored by an impish Mark Rylance, it takes its cue from the story’s hero: a bit ramshackle, very amiable, always watchable.

Isn’t It Romantic had us at hello but loses its spell when it has to develop its plot. Not as smart or sharp as you’d hope, it still delivers a lot of fun for those who can’t resist a bad Katherine Heigl flick.

Eastwood is in good, if not great form, Bridges steals the whole show, and Cimino displays a sense of unpretentious fun and appealing grasp of character.

Although sometimes it gets bogged down in the details of drilling, The Hummingbird Project extracts enough entertainment value from an unpromising premise, greatly helped by Jesse Eisenberg finding the humanity in his hustler.

Joe Wright brings fun and imagination to an oft-told tale, even if the story beats offer few surprises. Still worth seeing for a compelling Peter Dinklage turn.

What it lacks in freshness and depth, The Gentlemen certainly makes up for in cartoon-y bluster and fun details.

An upgrade from Prometheus, Alien: Covenant amps up the thrills but doesn't deliver a memorable crew member or the full-on onslaught of the series at its height.

Dear Evan Hansen gives enjoyable, tuneful voice to important modern-day concerns but lacks the dramatic and cinematic chops to really take flight.

22 July takes a helicopter view of a terrifying, unthinkable tragedy, perhaps flying too high to capture all the nuance, complexities and emotion. Still it has great stretches and a terrific performance by Anders Danielsen Lie.

Well played and well shot, Run’s idea of relocating Springsteen’s America to a rain-swept Scottish fishing town is interesting, but sadly it runs out of gas and road before it hits the horizon. Less baby we were born to run, more baby we were born to drive around in circles for a bit.

In the Insta age, this paean to body positivity and living your own truth is more than welcome, but you just wish UglyDolls’ message could be more charmingly argued, adroitly assembled and just plain funny.

Slightly better than its predecessors, Sonic The Hedgehog 3 works hard to entertain — it has the odd bright moment — but overall lacks surprise, freshness or anything to set the heart racing. It’s a Saturday-morning cartoon writ long.

It has its pleasures but after the nuance and emotional hits of Love Is Strange and Little Men, Frankie is a disappointment. Not even la Reine, Isabelle Huppert, can elevate this one.

The astonishing true life story of The 33 deserves a better movie than this. Trite above and below ground, it is not suitable for miners. Or anyone else really.

Neil Marshall’s return to his homegrown horror wheelhouse doesn’t reach the heights of Dog Soldiers and The Descent. Instead, it’s a witch-hunt thriller that lacks the texture to be realistic and the no-holds-barred energy to be pulpy. Sean Pertwee has fun though.

In a month of "A Monster Calls" and "Manchester By The Sea," Collateral Beauty serves up a hollow portrait of grief. Despite its quality cast and slick visuals, the result is sombre and saccharine rather than uplifting.

Mark Felt is a lacklustre staging of a fascinating episode in recent US history. Despite Neeson’s strong presence, this is a deep throat that never finds its voice.

Despite the all-star trio and the rare joke that lands, Going In Style never hits its stride as a warm-hearted crime caper.

Let Him Go starts languid and builds to a tonally at-odds finale, with its stars looking curiously unengaged. This is what happens when slow burning never really catches fire. Still, Lesley Manville is on fire as a memorable backwoods-y crime boss.

A strong cast and impressive action sequences can’t find subtleties or surprises to enliven a rote period disaster movie. It hits the right points, but mechanically.

23 Walks is romance of the gentlest kind. Steadman and Johns are likeable but the writing doesn’t deliver characters that compel and convince. But for dog lovers, it’s pooch porn.

Not even Halle Berry’s presence can enliven this stale sports film-family drama mash-up. By the end of it, the barrage of clichés leaves you black and blue.

Despite good moments and an ambition to reach for the profound, Life Itself settles for trite, sentimental and patience testing. A killer cast deserve better.

It’s tastefully shot and Crowe commits to the horrors of Jake’s illness (his seizures are upsetting) but the writing lacks depth, the character psychology is dime-store Freud and the performances are variable.

Despite the odd fun bit of bloodshed, Halloween Kills is mostly tired, tedious and an insult to everything John Carpenter got right first time round.

A slight improvement on Expendables 3, Expend4bles still works better as character posters than a movie you have to actually sit through. To paraphrase the tag line, old blood meets new blood equals tired blood.

As a last hurrah for a once great action icon, Rambo: Last Blood is a damp squib. Put your headbands at half mast and remember him from his glory days.

Wrong Turn has some decent booby-trap business but can’t find enough that is different to enliven the weary concept. But for the horror hardcore, keep watching once the credits roll.