Jamie Graham

Trumpeted by Netflix as a ‘new-school western’, The Harder They Fall in fact takes the staples of old-school westerns (bandits, bank jobs, train robberies, rowdy taverns, shootouts) but blends them all together in a manner that feels fresh and vibrant.

The Hateful Eight brands the western with a big ‘QT’. All you’d expect from a Tarantino movie and more besides. Saddle up.

The Shining buzzes madness and malevolence from every frame.

This is also a Christmas horror-comedy – and one of the best since Gremlins.

Wan has fashioned a nitro-fuelled thrill-ride that forms a fitting tribute to its blue-eyed bro.

A retro science-fiction actioner with both brains and brawn – quite a lot of brawn, actually. Surely destined for cult status.

The best horror remakes are not afraid to push the source material in new directions – exhibit a) The Thing; exhibit b) The Fly – and while Watkins’ movie is nowhere near the level of those masterpieces (few are), it’s shrewd, engrossing and pleasingly nasty.

The doc-flavoured approach lends both urgency and tedium, while the blend of miniatures, stop-motion and CGI references the various looks of his 63-year history.

As time passes, a real sadness creeps in as we suspect that we might be witnessing the extinction of a species, though an inspired sight gag is never far away. This is a film that needs to be seen to be believed.

Among the blood, sweat and (ahem) salty tears are musings on desire, family and emasculation, but this is Kim at his most mischievous, the laughs drowning all.

What Fantastic Beasts lacks in wonderment it almost makes up for in scares and subtext.

Like Pacino’s Shakespeare rumination Looking For Richard (1996), Wilde Salomé is passionate and absorbing, though the insertion of lengthy clips from the film might irk viewers who’ve just watched it.

Glen Powell’s whirlwind ascent continues in a film that does pretty much all you could ask for from a Twisters movie.

A low-budget, highconcept WTF thriller that might have been conceived by Rod Serling in the heyday of his Twilight Zone series. Spread the word.

No small achievement. Alexander Payne re-confirms his position as one of US cinema’s premier filmmakers.

The plotting is tangled, the emotional undertow slight, but the action keeps on coming, including a blistering multi-player sword fight on speeding bikes.

It’s fascinating stuff, if all a little rushed.

The gleeful nastiness will be too much for many. Fans, meanwhile, will rejoice as Art wraps intestines around a Christmas tree like tinsel.

Far better than we had any right to expect. Thrilling set-pieces, spine-tingling iconography and a Han/Chewie bromance to savour.

Willow Creek is a movie to believe in.

Bleed for This is made with palpable commitment by all involved and there are scenes to jolt viewers out of their déjà vu.

Blending The Thing, Prince of Darkness, Hellraiser and Lovecraftian cosmic horror, this falls flat in suspense and characterisation, but ace ’80s FX – all liquefying latex – will delight genre fans.

Much more fun than Coming 2 America. Don’t be surprised to see a fifth film greenlit.

There are thrills and feels but this reimagination of the delightful animation doesn’t take flight often enough.

A decent adaptation of McEwan’s excellent novella. Forget Fifty Shades – this is sex to make your cheeks blush.

Think Luis Buñuel spliced with Hieronymus Bosch.

Sure, the core tale of personal redemption is standard stuff but Zak Hilditch’s breathless, batshit-crazy thriller tears through orgies, mass suicides and murderous rampages to conclude on a scene as moving and terrifying as the climax of Melancholia. Hold on tight.

The stalk ‘n’ slash sequences, though decent, can’t match Craven’s mastery of mood and mechanics, but the new guys understand that Scream movies are sick as well as slick.

Andy’s favourite sci-fi movie won’t be yours. But it’s a fun adventure with animation that sucks your eyeballs from their sockets.

We’ve all been waiting for Gadot, and it was worth it. A much-needed blockbuster full of humour, spectacle and optimism.

The Violators suffers from inevitable comparisons to Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, but is anchored by McQueen’s terrific performance in her feature debut.

An exploitation movie that, paradoxically, exhibits too much good taste. Still, expect “Saws all!” to become a 2018 catchphrase.

Watching these famous monsters share the screen for the first time since 1963’s King Kong Vs. Godzilla, in a series of expertly choreographed battles, packs real wallop, even if you can’t help wishing that screen was 30ft high at your local cinema.

Don’t overlook this spiritual sequel to "The Shining." But don’t expect it get close to Kubrick’s original, either.

Delivers as a Friday-night actioner, with some smart moves and good banter. Smith and Lawrence are on crackerjack form.

A mix of the intimate and cosmic that shoots for the stars. You’ll float… and sometimes bump back to earth.

This funny, touching adap of Shrabani Basu’s 2010 biography has its own chemistry, withering wit and unsentimental message of acceptance. A royal treat.

Hits all the routine beats but is plenty entertaining, with Pacino rediscovering his enviable pizazz to headline a quality ensemble.

No ray guns, no tentacular beasties, just gravitas in a film that goes boldly about its business but never quite lands.

Pioneer features underwater sequences so breathless they’ll thrill even James Cameron (director Erik Skjoldbjærg made the original Insomnia) but Petter’s truth-chasing is at times too frantic and melodramatic.

Some of the vibrancy has worn off but this Rock-solid sequel has enough giggles and gasps to attract herds of viewers.

Jarrold struggles to sweep things along with quite enough vigour – budget constraints crowd the edge of the frame – but Gadon is intoxicating as Elizabeth.

Occasionally potent but mostly risible, this tale of the occult sees Rob Zombie cast a weak spell. Disappointing.

It's overlong and laboured in places, but worth a bite for the money-shot set-pieces. Plus... zombie tiger!

It’s no Parenthood. It’s tonally messy. But Instant Family’s made with excellent intentions and chunks of it work.

Neeson’s knees hold up in an oddball thriller that’s more interested in smirks than smashing things to smithereens.

A very big, exceedingly dumb thrill ride.

OK, so enough time is spent on the fairways to put some viewers off, but Tommy’s Honour scores a hole in one with its unpacking of the class wars at play.

Not without glitches but an energetic study of one woman’s refusal to settle for anything less than her share of the American Dream.

It’s a bonkers, ballistic, brain-numbing ride.

Wahlberg finds his most interesting role since The Departed in a film that’s heavy on atmosphere and suspense but shy of a full deck when it comes to characterisation.

No Badlands, but the best of the recent minor Malicks. And it features Val Kilmer with a chainsaw.

Kim Jee-woon's riff on the western is an entertaining frolic back-loaded with gore and guffaws. Arnie's back!

Handsomely shot but rather inert adap of mid-19th-century play A Month in the Country.

Despite its 95-minute running time, Banks’ wild adventure feels drawn out. Never sure if it wants to conjure real suspense and scares (it fails) or embrace riotous comedy in a full-on bear hug, Cocaine Bear also suffers from moments of cartoonish CGI.

Not quite magnificent but certainly Fuqua’s best since "Training Day" and a rare remake that actually delivers. Yee-haw!

The Soska sisters’ feminist ‘T Is For Torture Porn’ has the most to say but everyone will have their own favourites (D, K, T, X and Z, since you asked).

This is Malick turning graceful, ever-decreasing circles, though there’s a thrill to seeing him traverse hotel rooms and studio lots, nightclubs and strip clubs, after a career wrapped up in the period and pastoral.

Tries to fit in so much it threatens to tear apart at the seams, but ultimately rises to the impossible occasion.

While it hardly stays with you like The Invisible Man, Renfield is a fun Friday night at the movies.

A propulsive thriller that’ll appeal to die-hard fans and newbies alike.

One of the more solid ’70s horror remakes, but it lacks the verve and potency, romance and heartache of the original. Still, the haircuts are a vast improvement...

It’s no "Heat" but the niggles are easily forgiven given the virtuosity on show and the mood oozing from every frame. No one shoots faces, architecture and gunfights like Mann.

Kenneth Branagh finds interesting ways to grease the wheels of this new take on the oft-filmed novel.

Scott operates on a suitably Biblical scale and grounds the spectacle with rock-solid turns from Bale and Edgerton.

This is the anti-Heat: no sheen, no shimmer, no obsessing over highly grandiose themes and precise compositions; just grime and desperation.

After a first half that suggests franchise fatigue is setting in, Fallen Kingdom zooms in for some scarily good set-pieces.

A shallow, slow-burn horror that takes an age to get to the strong meat but looks good doing it.

Don't expect glamorous outlaws, sunny locales and exotic masterplans – this low-key thriller lifts the rusted lid off an all-too-real world of despairing criminality.

Misses the energy and vitality of Gregg Araki’s best work, but there’s more going on here than immediately meets the eye.

It’s hardly fresh, but the spectacle is decent and the relationship dynamics absorb just enough to fill the lengthy run time.

Performances pop as Earth gets the chop, with US politics, big business and social media going up in flames.

Favoring charisma over character, this action-espionage thriller hangs lots of action – some solid, some ace – on a threadbare plot.

The arid landscapes are handsomely shot, the set-pieces punchy and intimate, and the performances robust, with Portman reminding us just how good an actress she is as her no-nonsense Jane gets on with the business of survival.

It's a rocky, at times patience-testing ride that plays something like a screwball riff on The Plot Against America, but Amsterdam is ultimately worth the trip.

Some entertaining bicker-banter, but you may feel like Venom craving human heads: undernourished and angsty for what could’ve been.

Never sure if it wants to be a hard-edged character drama or pacy action-thriller, Son Of A Gun has plenty to admire between the tonal wobbles.

An absorbing thriller that favours vivid characters, profound ideas and Old Testament morals over propulsive plotting and set-pieces. With lots of blood.

Vikander packs a punch but this Tomb Raider is a long way off the Holy Grail of the first three Indy movies.

With few words and the odd squint, Cruise hard boils all of his charisma into a clenched fist, but is more than happy to let a dynamic Smulders take the lead in many scenes.

Fans, naturally, might simply want what they came for, and leave licking wounds. But they should be partially sated by some grisly kills and nods to Carpenter classics Christine and The Thing. And besides, let’s not fool ourselves that it really ends here. Friday the 13th: The Final Chapter was followed a year later by Friday the 13th: A New Beginning.

Don’t be put off by the long wait. This is a little slimline but a lot of fun.

By the beard of Zeus! Brett Ratner delivers fast, fun thrills to score a sound victory over Renny Harlin’s laborious The Legend Of Hercules.

The scuzz-chic visuals, sleaze-synth score and deep-cutting gore are effective, and shooting from the killer’s POV proves a valid USP. But Wood, despite giving his all, cannot match Joe Spinell’s unhinged turn in the original: nightmares in a damaged brain indeed.

A grindhouse mix of "Wild Things," "Killer Joe" and "Streetcar Named Desire," The Paperboy won’t be for all. But it boasts a soupy atmosphere and Kidman’s best turn for years.

The Crooked Man is at its best in a flavoursome first half that serves up crepuscular, shallow-focus photography (take a bow, DoP Ivan Vatsov) and backwoods dialect as tangy and prickly as wild gooseberries.

Marking Harlin’s trumpeted return to a genre in which he established himself as something of a journeyman (A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, Exorcist: The Beginning), The Strangers: Chapter 1 makes decent use of its contained setting – the house itself, to wheel out the cliché, is its own character – but can’t cut through the sense of fatigue.

A murky mishmash of a movie, with the lightest smattering of glorious moments.

This is a tonal misfire, its characters cut down by a blitzkrieg of whip pans, CGI and thunderous percussion. And with Ritchie again rummaging in his increasingly threadbare bag of tricks, the result is a movie more jaundiced than jaunty.

Frustratingly, [Marcel's] movie maintains the issues of the first two films – ropey effects, muddy night-time action scenes, a determination to be family friendly at all times – and then undoes any goodwill its more successful components have inspired by including a mid-credits sting that renders the previous 109 minutes obsolete.

While some viewers may want more explosions and twists, there's no denying Michael B. Jordan makes for a riveting action hero in Without Remorse

As in director Alexandre Aja’s Horns, the action alternates reality/fantasy to middling effect.

Starts off flavourful, turns rather bland. This Injustice League jaunt proves that DC is still a long way behind Marvel for on-screen action.

Fans will find just enough heart-swelling moments involving friendships and family to enjoy one last group hug.

Come for the technical innovations, stay for… hmm. Two Will Smiths for the price of one just ain’t worth it.

The requisite training montage is half-decent, and the split-screen end credits replay Van Damme’s infamous dancing in the original, with Moussi mirroring his every bad move.

The action’s routine (as is the norm for this sub-genre) and the spy plot skimps on mystery and twists. But Bautista and Coleman maintain their winning rapport from the first film, and Schaal’s inappropriate comments never fail to amuse. It’s just about enough.

Fun enough, but not the lightning-bolt-to-the-heart update we hoped for. For a far superior update of the Frankenstein myth, read Stephen King’s Revival.