James Mottram

It’s a thoroughly enjoyable reunion – like being reacquainted with old friends.

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.

It’s just a shame the formulaic story feels about as paper-thin as you might expect from an adaptation of a ladders-and-levels video game. As is so common in these Hollywood animations, the ‘family is forever’ theme looms large, but never once feels sincere or authentic.

Like an inoffensive light ale, the result slips down more pleasantly than you might expect.

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.

The final act doesn't quite pay off, with characters' motives left frustratingly opaque, but the film is blessed with cast-iron performances, especially from Graham and Boon.

With so many of the gang now in the ground, this swansong doesn’t boast the same punk energy of the show’s early seasons. Only occasionally does it snarl and show its teeth, with flashes of the cold-blooded violence that gave it so much of an edge.

It’s a good exercise for Cooper in creating something more low-key, even if it doesn’t quite come off. Still, in the days where adult-skewing dramas are becoming an endangered species in movie theatres, this should be applauded for attempting the subject of divorce with a level head.

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.

Even if No Other Choice will leave you stone-faced, you can’t help but admire the invention on display, especially in later scenes, where Park dips into the surreal.

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.

Despite the odd flash of gore (this is a ‘15’ certificate, so expect minimal scares), the film’s biggest crime is that it’s utterly boring.

Devised by Brutalist composer Daniel Blumberg, the songs are spirited, and Mamma Mia! star Seyfried invests fully. But with characters often reduced to making declamatory statements, it becomes an increasingly vexing exercise.

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.

Powell is a very watchable everyman, convincingly demonstrating the man of the people integrity of his character. There’s great work too from Colman Domingo as the show’s slick presenter Bobby T and Michael Cera, who plays a loose-cannon contact that Richards makes during his quest for survival. Wright also handles the explosive action well, orchestrating elaborate, kinetic set pieces that throb with excitement.

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.

Certainly, this lacks the cheekiness of, say, M3GAN. With the exception of an amusing riff about Depeche Mode (better than Mozart, according to Ares), it requires a much-needed humour injection. In Tron terms, the future is less bright than po-faced.

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

It would be unfair to claim this closing film concludes on a whimper. But neither is it quite the grand finale the title would have us believe. More like a pleasant stroll with characters you know and love.

Johnson, looking radically different under a cropped black wig, takes this opportunity and wrestles with it. Not since his work for Michael Bay in Pain & Gain has he done anything this out of his comfort zone.

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.

This is a typically unsophisticated, heart-in-the-right-place comedy from Sandler, complete with Happy’s four sons mooning and making dick jokes.

Well made, but instantly forgettable.

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.

You won’t be able to shake the feeling that there’s a lack of heart and soul here.

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.

A few fights enliven proceedings, including one on a road lined with cherry blossom trees. But this is largely dull and disappointing.

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.

Is it scary? Rarely, to be honest. But it knows how to twist the knife, at least.

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.

A credible, if slightly limited, prequel that recaptures the atmosphere if not the originality of Rosemary’s Baby.

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.

For those looking for an easy-on-the-eye, brain-in-neutral-thriller, Wolfs still hits the spot.

It’s just a pity that the storytelling sprawls all over the place, with some plotlines (like the Beetlejuice/Delores discord) failing to pay off. But mostly Beetlejuice Beetlejuice is a fun afterlife frolic.

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.

Crafting a thriller that is tense and taut, Álvarez truly understands what makes an Alien movie breathe, while also expanding on the mythology of the series.

But as the film lurches into the final third, there’s little emotional sustenance to keep you going. Just one yawn-worthy twist and some dud CGI. Avoid.

Schoenbrun’s film never feels derivative; instead, there’s something fresh and exciting about it, despite the almost deliberate slow-burn feel to its pacing.

Sharply observed with a top-notch cast and a pleasing old-school vibe, The Instigators is tremendously entertaining.

Perkins ensures everything services a story that comes armed with at least one almighty twist. Measured in pacing and tone, his film also feels extremely moody thanks to the overcast skies captured by cinematographer Andrés Arochi.

Murphy’s youthful cheekiness has long gone, stripping this sequel of some of its verve. But this is still an enjoyable, affable reunion: the heat is just about back on.

A rigorous and handsome drama, finely hewn by Costner and his cast, this is an absorbing ride into the Old West.

The final act loses its way, but in the main West wraps his slasher trilogy in satisfying style, putting a blood-soaked, Hollywood-branded bow on his eras-spanning saga.

To be fair, Blood and Honey 2 is actually a notch above its predecessor, if only because the production values are (relatively) higher. But despite a watchable turn from Chambers, this is largely Neanderthal filmmaking, even with hospital janitor Simon Callow offering up a Scottish accent and a lot of pointless exposition.

The cast is given a boost by the star power of Vanessa Hudgens, Alexander Ludwig and Paolo Núñez all reprising their roles as members of AMMO (Advanced Miami Metro Operations), plus Better Call Saul’s Rhea Seehorn joining as the ballsy US Marshall daughter of the accused Captain Howard. It’s just a shame they’re all woefully underused in a story that feels so same-old-same-old.

Linklater is a master of pacing and he times this story to perfection; you’ll be aching with laughter by the end.

As ever, Cronenberg leaves you with much to chew on, but dramatically The Shrouds feels rather inert, as if it can’t get out of second gear

Baker controls the narrative with real aplomb, crafting a time-bomb mix of physical comedy and high drama. Better still, the final third alights on real pathos.

This is an assured, blackly funny, and outrageous horror that will leave you roaring with approval.

With stellar songs by French singer Camille, a highly original score by Clément Ducol, and striking choreography by Damien Jalet, Emilia Pérez shifts effortlessly from musical extravagances to a gritty underworld milieu.

Delivering her first narrative feature since 2016’s American Honey, Arnold initially seems to be retreading familiar social-realist ground, delving into poverty-stricken working-class lives. But in its second half Bird crosses into fable-like territory, with impressive results.

It’s entertaining to a point. ... But whether the filmmakers truly get under Trump’s skin is debatable. Do we learn much new about him? Perhaps not, but it’s an absorbing journey all the same.

You’re left with the feeling that the film could have been made under another title, with no brand recognition, and be no less successful. Still, that’s Hollywood for you; at least the result emerges as a fine tribute to the unsung heroes of the movie business.

A competent if occasionally clunky biopic, enlivened by a superb Marisa Abela, who truly inhabits Winehouse and brings those songs to life.

Wingard does try out something different here, creating long dialogue-free sequences where it’s just the monsters going toe-to-toe. With Wingard relying on gestures, grunts and groans from his alpha-beasts, it’s like watching the most expensive silent movie ever made.

Too many characters and callbacks plus a formulaic plot means Frozen Empire doesn’t touch the original movies, but it’s a likeable-enough brand extension.

In the end, Road House is a solid actioner, a frolic that Liman marshals competently. This is a fun Friday-night fight-fest, best enjoyed with a few bevvies – brash, loud, knockabout and liable to leave you with a cauliflower ear or two.

Throughout, there’s a tendency to descend into farce, which yields laughs, but ultimately hampers these Letters’ potential to say something more profound.

Certainly, it’s not for those looking for fist-pumping sporting triumphalism. But in this age of franchise vapidity, it’s still a film worth grappling with.

A neat mash-up of high-school comedy and horror tropes. Pity it flounders in the final third, though.

Despite the slightly uneven pacing, Wright’s sturdy performance keeps things on an even keel. The result is a fiendishly sharp poke at questionable notions of Black representation in the modern world.

While its oddball nature won’t be to all tastes, the championing of female guile over insufferable male idiocy will surely leave many with a big smile on their faces.

A damp-squib horror with zero thrills. Russell and Condon deserve much better.

Blending OTT gore, devilish humor and on-the-nose satire, this is sick, twisted and hugely enjoyable.

For a while, the film seems unsure which direction to take. But a darker third act sees Paul’s benign personality begin to warp in people’s dreams, impacting his entire life. Meanwhile, echoing the work of Charlie Kaufman (Being John Malkovich in particular), Dream Scenario morphs into a wickedly funny satire on the pernicious nature of social media.

But while DaCosta’s Candyman reboot was thrilling, this never musters the same level of engagement, despite a script that is chock full of good lines and a cast of willing participants. More meh than marvel, you might say.

Bell is as low-key brilliant as he always is – that ominous, gravelly voice gets a great workout, while his withered, grey-haired appearance lends the film real gravitas. And yes, there is enough Saw iconography here to keep the bloodthirsty on-side.

Eschewing melodrama for a more low-key register, it may not satisfy those looking for quick thrills. But this slow-burner is a stylish look at a bygone era, when all that mattered was having enough money to put petrol in your tank.

At least Scream star Matthew Lillard brings some creepiness into his little screen time. Otherwise, Five Nights At Freddy’s is moribund.

With a quality cast (which also includes Lena Olin as Winton’s wife and Jonathan Pryce as his friend), this is a finely crafted film that unfolds with great care, building towards a cathartic climax.

Admittedly, the film’s oddly paced, elliptical middle section may leave you scratching your head. But then the twisty third act pulls it all together, sending shivers down the spine.

Even in a crowded AI-movie market, Edwards’s stellar sci-fi is a terrific achievement. See it on the largest, loudest screen possible.

Sly and Statham are always watchable – not least when the latter takes a job as security for an odious social media influencer. But they can’t save this mission from going painfully pear-shaped.

Director Craig Gillespie (I, Tonya) tells this pandemic-era David-and-Goliath story energetically.

As ever with Anderson, the design is meticulous. Some can find this style cloying, but it suits this glorified short perfectly, never outstaying its welcome.

It’s a big old mess of a movie, in other words: flawed and (sometimes) fun.

As summer blockbusters go, it’s only ever really mildly diverting. But bringing us a first Latino superhero in a DC movie, ably played by the charming Maridueña, is still to be applauded.

Sadly, a generic script doesn’t aid the film’s overall ambitions. A little less than the sum of its parts, Run Rabbit Run is ultimately more intriguing than outright terrifying.

A notch above its predecessors.

A sweet-natured love story, well-intentioned, animated and acted, but lacking the depth of some of the studio’s greatest triumphs.

Anderson and co-writer Roman Coppola have great fun with the idea, channeling 1950s B-movie vibes. Like all of Anderson’s work, it’s very affectionate, even if every camera move appears to have been calculated with the precision of a mathematical equation.

A terrific thrill ride. With Ford in fine form, Indy’s last stand is a highly satisfying blend of action, humour and emotion.

An impish Peter and an enjoyable Hook shine in this comfy, occasionally inspired take on J.M. Barrie’s classic.


Smartly walking that line so that newcomers to this fantasy world and old hands who spent days playing the game can both enjoy, Honour Among Thieves is a satisfying romp. It’s a little formulaic in places, but on the flip side, it pulls some really weird moments out of its sack.