John Nugent

This is not the messiah. Nor is it a very naughty boy. There was an opportunity for a truly original spin on the so-called Greatest Story Ever Told here, but The Carpenter’s Son pulls its punches to make a rather rote horror that amounts to little.

Despite some dazzling animation, this is a mess of celebrity and corporate cameos that fails to capture the weird spirit of the ’90s original, or the ’40s heyday — more ‘suffering’ than ‘succotash’.

A disappointment. A premise with much promise has been turned into a bland retread through YA’s most familiar faults — despite some bold efforts from Holland, Ridley and Mikkelsen.

This collection of tired jokes is enough to prompt the question, “What day did the Lord create Spinal Tap II: The End Continues, and couldn’t he have rested on that day too?”

A bit of an odd one, an action-comedy throwback that doesn’t quite know what it wants to be. Still, it bodes well for Pierce Brosnan’s new phase as a grey-haired action star.

Hugely impressive musical and dance performances from the two young men playing Michael Jackson cannot shake off the uncomfortable fact that there is an entire other side to the pop star’s story which is entirely conspicuous by its absence here.

In a crowded marketplace, new superhero movies need a lot to stand out; despite some solid work from Sylvester Stallone, it’s not really clear what Samaritan is bringing to the table.

Beautifully animated, and about as faithful and affectionate as a corporate cash-in is possible to get — but it still doesn’t come close to the experience of actually playing the games.

As that Ronseal title suggests, Plane is rarely on the good side of trash. But at least Gerard Butler and Mike Colter offer some solid action-star appeal.

An all-too conventional look at an unconventional man, Big George Foreman is, alas, a swing and a miss.

Quan is typically charismatic in a film that underserves his talents: an action-comedy with a solid amount of the former, but not much of the latter.

Statham is as gruffly convincing as he usually is (though it’s 20 minutes before he’s even allowed to kick any ass), but the action scenes are horribly inconsistent: fine in the hand-to-hand stuff, sloppy elsewhere.

Strictly-for-fans-only. Bono is a charismatic chronicler of his own life, but the self-conscious storytelling concept is a harder thing to stomach for non-enthusiasts.

This latest attempt to adapt the world’s laziest cat for the big screen just feels plain lazy: pure kids’-movie-by-numbers. The cinematic equivalent of a Monday.

Deeply forgettable and disposable, this is the kind of action-comedy you will feel like you have seen before. But Halle Berry and Mark Wahlberg are good fun, at least.

It purports to celebrate the pursuit of science, but this film may have single-handedly set the space programme back a decade.

Cleaner has good people behind it but this British attempt at a Die Hard ends up just being a bit of a mess. Yippee-ki-nay.

Parochial pub-based piffle — like a pint that’s gone a bit flat. But you can’t doubt its sincerity.

Well-meaning but unfortunately misjudged, this clichéd melodrama is a minor stumble for Harry Styles’ continuing conquest of cinema.

An odd, messy, misjudged shambles. You can’t fault the earnest tone or the plucky performances, but you can fault almost everything else.

A weak shadow of Eddie Murphy’s action-comedy yesteryear, The Pickup would be better off being left unpicked.

Standard-issue late-stage Netflix-era Sandler stuff: not exactly good, but goofy and charming in its own boneheaded, stick-it-on-if-there’s-nothing-else-on kind of way.

This is simply more fairly generic and forgettable family fodder.

A typically formulaic seasonal sugar rush that’s only blandly mediocre, rather than so-bad-it’s-good. But Lindsay Lohan’s romcom-dominance cannot be denied.  

Lovely visuals, but this is a rare miss from Sony Pictures Animation. Watch KPop Demon Hunters again, instead.

Despite some warm performances, it’s very hard to ignore the feeling that this is largely just two hours of product placement.

It’s always nice to see Illumination outside of its Minions comfort zone, but Migration is mostly generic. A bit of a flightless bird.

An instantly forgettable, paint-by-numbers romcom, despite the obvious charm of Witherspoon and Kutcher — worthy of watching neither at your place nor mine.

Now You Three Me, as it should be called, offers ample 2010s nostalgia, but not quite enough brainless fun lands successfully. Put this rabbit back in the hat.

Not a total catastrophe, but perilously close to being one. Is it too obvious to say Imaginary is simply lacking in imagination?

An unremarkable and quickly forgettable B-movie. Jessica Alba makes a decent stab for John Wick’s particular brand of movie vengeance, but she needs better material than this.

Gorgeous to look at — but this is simply not looney enough to stand alongside the Looney Tunes greats of old. Needs more anvils.

Some likeable performances — and solid Irish accents — can’t save a dreary parade of clichés. Pray that the Lord forgives these cinematic sins.

This is sadly unsuccessful as both an eat-the-rich satire and a schlocky B-movie. Not even Paul Rudd and Jenna Ortega can rescue Death Of A Unicorn from expiring on arrival.

Despite a fun voice cast, this is a lazy effort that squanders its characters, and will likely bore anyone over the age of ten.

Gurinder Chadha’s Dickens do-over is a typically original perspective on a canonical classic, if let down by its stretched production values and unlikable songs. But it aims only to be a crowd-pleaser, and may yet become one. 

Mark Wahlberg is convincing and committed as a foul-mouthed Father, but this is ultimately just religious propaganda — preaching exclusively to the converted.

As a fairy-tale romantic rendering of Ireland, Irish Wish is almost offensively bad; as another rung on the ladder for Lindsay Lohan romcom supremacy, it is almost, somehow, beyond reproach.

Godzilla Vs. Kong mostly delivers on its promise of a big monster fighting another big monster. It just depends whether you’re willing to sit through the toe-curlingly bad set-up that surrounds it.

Like a parody of a Jason Statham film, without any of the joy that might imply. This Working Man just doesn’t work.

The cinematic equivalent of being teabagged without your consent.

Incompetent and mostly just quite boring, Assassin Club doesn’t even have the good grace to be so-bad-it’s-good. Rough, rough stuff.

An absolute shambles of a fantasy folly. Overlong, undercooked, and clogged with enough clichés that even its teen target audience will feel disrespected.