James Mottram

Assayas and his team have created an indelible portrait of contemporary Russia, “a prison the size of a country” as it's called, one that perhaps only an outsider could ever get away with.

Adapted by director François Ozon, the script makes subtle adjustments to Camus's work without ever demystifying its more enigmatic elements.

While the Bride’s relationship with Frank isn’t exactly a tear-jerker, Gyllenhaal has made something unique and singular. An outlier in the Frankenstein canon, it’s both a thought-provoking re-assessment of Shelley’s work and a bonkers feminist call-to-arms. They don’t come much wilder and weirder.

A tender, decade-spanning love story, exquisitely told by director Oliver Hermanus, The History of Sound is yet another wonderful showcase for the considerable talents of Josh O’Connor and Paul Mescal.

If spending time in the bio-luminescent forests and turquoise oceans of an alien planet is your thing, then Fire and Ash does everything you’d hope. It’s a marvel of CG craftsmanship and of Cameron’s pursuit of perfection.

It’s a tender – and sometimes affecting – portrait of the artist, one that hopefully will allow modern audiences to remember the contributions Lorenz Hart made to popular culture.

Once again, Nathan Crowley’s production design is wondrous, a multi-colour extravaganza that truly brings Oz to life. Simply spending time there – with its fields of tulips and fireworks in the sky – is one of the great pleasures of this movie. A film that will surely satisfy Wicked’s extensive army of devotees.

Two actors, among the very best of their respective generations, come together for Dragonfly, a bleak but captivating study of loneliness and social care set in contemporary Britain.

This pleasingly madcap comedy-drama will no doubt satisfy fans of Lanthimos’s off-kilter take on the world around us.

A tender, thoughtful film that finally brings the legendary singer-songwriter’s story, or at least a snatch of it, to the big screen.

Writer-director Rian Johnson’s script isn’t quite the perfect box of tricks. It’s fairly tenuous that Blanc would turn up for this puzzler – apparently at the behest of Mila Kunis’ local cop. But it’s hard to punch down on a movie with such a riotously entertaining cast.

Perhaps it's hyperbole to call the film del Toro’s masterpiece – especially a story that has been told countless times. But this is a work that is the accumulation of three-and-a-half decades of filmmaking knowledge. Gory and grim it may be, but it is a tragic tale told in a captivating manner.

For sure, Bigelow has crafted a film that works both as nerve-shredding entertainment and as a thought-provoking anti-nuclear statement.

Operatic in its intensity and lush in its visuals (Anderson shot with old-school film format VistaVision), it’s a sometimes ragged, unwieldy experience.

Somehow Johnson’s sophisticated turn – the best of her career – will keep you on side. As romantic as Materialists is, it’s also realistic which makes it so watchable.

The Final Reckoning brings both the Dead Reckoning storyline and the franchise as a whole to a satisfying close. As ever, Cruise is in peak condition, front and centre amid some looney stuntwork. If only his antagonist Gabriel was a more worthy opponent.

Sinners really comes to life via the musical numbers.

Opus is as off-kilter as they come. Perfectly suited, then, to a man like Malkovich.

A road movie that really makes you think about the stops it makes, there is real pain inside this film; Eisenberg and his cast do well to ensure you’ll feel every moment of it.

True, Becoming Led Zeppelin is never going to do anything but celebrate, given it’s an authorised take on the band. But there’s warmth and good humour here.

A fresh spin on a difficult topic, it’s a high-wire walk that balances sensitivity and sensationalism. You won’t find a more compelling film this winter.

You’d be hard-pressed to call it moving, but at least there’s an emotional narrative that drags us through the grisly bits. Sick, dark and laugh-out-loud nuts.

What results is a film that both works as a finely-tuned thriller and a meditation on the Church’s place in today’s society.

Neville’s film is so forward-thinking, it’s easy to forgive the more superficial aspects of the production.

A Different Man is in essence a meta-movie, one that cunningly examines issues surrounding beauty and artistic creation.

Mielants, who brilliantly conjures a dank, oppressive mood (even a shot of childhood fave Danger Mouse on TV fails to lift the spirits) skilfully avoids any overwrought confrontations; the film’s understated power only grows as it goes on.

All the cast play their parts, but an off-the-leash McAvoy is a joy to behold, channeling the same twisted energy he mined for his addict-cop in Irvine Welsh adaptation Filth. Touching on issues of class and the rich-poor divide, the result is a top-notch British thriller that’ll scare the bejesus out of you.

Kravitz, making her directorial debut, knows exactly how to drip-feed information, until it dawns on you that it’s all about to get very bad indeed.