John Nugent

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.

Despite its wild premise — Chris Pratt goes to the future to fight aliens! — and considerable talent, The Tomorrow War is mostly just bloated blockbuster business as usual.

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

There’s much to chew on in Cherry, and not all of it works. But a never-better performance from Tom Holland, and some bold directorial choices, make it a mostly compelling watch.

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.

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.

Waititi’s shtick runs thin, and there are badly misguided moments, but this is still a warm, heart-mostly-in-the-right-place portrait of a momentously poor sports team.

All is very much what it seems from another one of these all-is-not-what-it-seems thrillers — but there are fun, enjoyably unhinged performances from Edebiri and Malkovich.

Paul Feig is mostly back on form with a likeable, frantic, murderous, madcap money-grab of a high-concept comedy. It could be funnier, but it rarely stops for breath.

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.  

Moonfall is precisely what you’d expect a film called Moonfall to be: deeply, defiantly, sometimes exasperatingly daft. It’s Roland Emmerich on apocalypse-autopilot.

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.

An old-fashioned disaster B-movie with a slickly presented sci-fi premise, 65 holds few surprises — but like Adam Driver’s resourceful, humane hero, it gets the job done. More dinosaurs, please, Hollywood!

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

Spiral makes an admirable stab at defibrillating an old franchise — but ultimately wastes its stars, caught in the same bear-trap of a formula that befell earlier sequels.

Peter Farrelly’s latest semi-serious effort is light, goofy and sometimes perilously frivolous. But like sharing a few beers with your buds, you soon warm to it.

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

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.

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

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.

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.

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’.

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

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.

Judd Apatow’s broadest film yet is a patchy collection of Covid-themed comedy cock-ups — but a talented ensemble of performers means you’re never too far away from your next laugh.

A big old pile of Smurf.

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.

The Electric State loses some of the quiet profundity of the original text, but as a breezily watchable retrofuturistic jolly, it has just enough juice.