John Nugent

Just a solidly made cat-and-mouse thriller, with muscularly committed performances from its two leads. It’ll make you want to explore the Great Outdoors and simultaneously never leave your house again.

A defiantly avant-garde take on commercial chart-toppers. It’s not for everyone, but it deserves to be: a gorgeous fusion of film, fashion, faith, and certified bangers.

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.

The cinematic equivalent of being teabagged without your consent.

A cautionary tale against the dangers of excessive podcasting, this is a supremely spooky sonic ordeal. As an allegory for Catholic guilt, it’s haunting; as an auditory experience, it’ll fuck you up.

It’s thinner than the paper it’s written on, and full of questionable choices — but in a switch-your-brain-off kind of way, this will adequately activate your heist glands. Light the fuze!

It’s nonsense — but at the very least, well-meaning nonsense.

Van Sant’s previous historical fictions have been more incisive, but this is a tense crime thriller, with a solid new addition to Bill Skarsgård’s rogues’ gallery of scumbags.

A special sort of film, one which can be enjoyed as a dark climate-change allegory and a bright, colourful, emotional yarn on friendship and family. Fantastique!

With some genuinely shocking moments, this is a fascinating, frightening —  if frustrating — account of masculinity in crisis.  

A very watchable old-school blockbuster crowd-pleaser. Ryan Gosling and an alien made of rocks are the best space-based double-act since R2-D2 and C3-PO.

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

Don’t call it a comeback — but this is really strong stuff from Pixar: funny, thoughtful, sweet, making for a heartfelt paean to nature, and beavers in particular. Dam good.

An energetic, urgent and damning assessment of our prison crisis, Wasteman marks Cal McMau as an exciting new homegrown director.

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

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

A hugely impressive debut. Personal and political, this is a tender and spellbinding depiction of family in fraught times.

Essentially “Men will literally do stand-up rather than go to therapy”, in cinematic form. An appealing tragicomedy-drama, told with veracity and heart by Cooper, Arnett and Dern.

About as powerful as cinema gets. Its hybrid blend of documentary audio and devastating dramatisation is heart-wrenchingly, shatteringly effective.

A gripping, zig-zaggy potboiler, this is a crime thriller in the old-school tradition, with some enjoyable turns from Boston’s finest, Matt Damon and Ben Affleck.

Just lovely. Tourette syndrome has not been afforded its cinematic dues, but what an affable, funny character to explore it with in John Davidson — and what a performance from Robert Aramayo.

A true original: an impressionistic portrait of a lost life, recreated in multiple forms with a gorgeous soundtrack. Odd, but unique.

With strong performances in service to a clear, confident vision from Chloé Zhao, this is a wrenching contemplation of the “undiscovered country” of death and grief.

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

Haunting, serenely composed and beautiful, this is an elegy for a life and a country that America used to be. 

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.

Gothic, iconoclastic, engrossing, slyly excoriating of modern-day America and very funny to boot, it’s another solidly satisfying whodunnit from Benny B. Keep them coming, please.

Wicked: For Good, sure — but not quite Wicked: For Great.

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. 

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.

Edgar Wright’s biggest film yet feels like something out of both the future and the 1980s: a scathing satire that’s also a lot of fizzy blockbuster fun.

There’s trouble in this paradise: bleak without much of a point to make and bloody without any particular reason, this is an odd attempt at satire that takes a fascinating slice of real-life stranger-than-fiction history and somehow makes it less interesting.

Riveting, unhinged, and sardonic to its honey-soaked core, this is another Lanthimos-Stone winner. (With a great opening-title typeface, to boot.)

It has about as much depth as a floppy disk, but some lovely, shiny CGI and a stunningly ear-shattering score from Nine Inch Nails makes for a fun if forgettable bit of futuristic fluff. Bio-digital jazz, man!

Not quite vintage Black, and Mark Wahlberg is no Robert Downey Jr, but this is fast and funny enough to be worth a couple of your hours. Squint hard enough and it almost feels like you’re back in the ’90s.

As a newly solo director, Safdie summons a thoughtful and moving mood for this unconventional sports film; as a newly serious dramatic actor, Johnson is about to win some awards.

All Of You might only work for some of you, but the easy, insatiable fire between Goldstein and Poots is undeniable. 

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 heck of a debut from first-timer Shawn Simmons, and another powerful argument for A-list status for Samara Weaving. Bring on the sequel, which is obliged to be titled Miny Moe. 

An audacious, farcically funny digest of where we are now, and how we got here: the cinematic equivalent of pandemic primal therapy, a mad scream into the void.

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

A hugely accomplished horror achievement, and a significant step up from Barbarian: tense, sad, hilarious, unsettling, ridiculously entertaining, and ultimately oddly uplifting.

The result is a film that has a better chance of producing a belly laugh than any in recent memory: one that deserves, as Drebin would say, “20 years for man’s laughter”.

Adam Sandler goes back to his Happy place for this unashamedly stupid sequel. What it lacks in precision or panache, it makes up for in sheer goofy, golf-y geniality.

A big old pile of Smurf.

M3GAN 2.0 is more absurd, self-aware silliness: a riot of timely tech paranoia, with almost no horror but a ton of successful comedy. Slay, queen!

A different beast to Past Lives, this is a razor-sharp look at the competitive marketplace of dating: both rigorously honest and idealistically romantic.

Killer Of Killers looks the business and comes with all the gory kills and human heroes you’d hope for, but like most anthologies it is a little hit-and-miss.

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.

A tense, knotty opening act yields to some of Tom Cruise’s most impressive stunts yet, ending the film — and perhaps the series — on a high.

With a committed, crazed, brilliantly calibrated performance from late-Renaissance Cage, this is a feverishly good thriller: surreal and strange and sticky.

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.

It won’t win points for originality or sophistication, but this is another muscular, well-pitched heist thriller with strong character work from Butler and Jackson Jr. We wait with bated breath for The Further Adventures Of Big Nick.

It doesn’t always land, but it dares to be different, from the title to the team-up. Fresh and thoughtful in a way recent Marvel efforts haven’t always managed.

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.

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

A largely painless viewing experience — but it could have been far more pleasurable.

At once awe-inspiring, jaw-dropping, eye-rolling and head-scratching, this is animated cinema on a scale rarely seen. It doesn’t always hang together, but on its box-office achievements alone, Ne Zha 2 has earned a place with the immortals.

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.

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.

Its pleasures lie in the dialogue, the twists, the reveals. It all leads to a delightful Agatha Christie-style drawing room denouement, in which the rat is exposed, their best-laid plans laid to waste. Like the film as a whole, it’s deliciously, lip-smackingly satisfying.

A mesmerising, wondrous example of animation’s potential; a thoughtful allegory about ecocide and death; and an adorable ode to four-legged (and two-legged) friends. No ebbs here: Flow is the real deal.

A solid bit of high-concept B-movie fun, establishing Josh Hartnett as a credible action hero, and James Madigan as a genre director to watch.

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.

Funny and shocking, Get Away is not always a successful holiday-gone-wrong, but its bloody bonkers final act makes it worth the trip.

More unsubtly crowd-pleasing, Burnley-based ebullience, which gets by on its unimpeachably virtuous message — and a gloriously garrulous performance from the always-reliable Rory Kinnear.

La Diva Eterna lives in Jolie, with a performance as towering as it is understated: sad and soulful and heartbreaking. She has never been better. Brava!

Reassuringly formulaic, this is a straightforwardly inspirational-by-numbers sports movie, made watchable thanks to Jharrel Jerome and Jennifer Lopez.

Anyone looking for a revelatory portrait of an iconic artist might be a smidge disappointed. But as conventional as it is, this is still a strikingly well-made musical drama with pitch-perfect performances. Don’t criticise, as Dylan once sang, what you can’t understand. 

It never scrapes the heights of Jackson’s trilogy — few do — but amid a messy meeting of worlds, there are stirring moments.

Its wackier moments sometimes feel like they have more bark than bite, but as an uncommonly honest and authentic depiction of motherhood, Nightbitch will come as sharp relief to mums everywhere.

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.  

A solid if fairly derivative attempt to steal Disney’s thunder. There’s enough pep and vigour here to keep kids interested, if not quite enough for the grown-ups. 

A touch less fresh than the original, but this is still bursting with energy, emotion, warmth and imagination. It knows the way.  

A feverish, quietly sad exploration of longing and infatuation. Its lack of focus stifles the experience, but Daniel Craig has rarely been as compelling a watch.

Piece By Piece’s very existence is baffling, and the Lego of it all is never entirely justified, but as an unconventional documentary of a maverick musician, it works — just about.

Jacques Audiard’s outlandish musical thriller is a little jumbled, and a little misjudged in the treatment of its characters. But you can’t doubt its audaciousness.

If this is to be a swansong, it’s a fitting one: a thrillingly watchable legal thriller about truth, justice and (for better and for worse) the American way, as told by an all-American icon. 

It’s a very straightforward story, but there is no doubting the heartfelt nature of the telling — and the subject matter is unimpeachable. John Williams was the best to ever do it, and this film is a good reminder of how, and why.

An ingenious, wildly stylish new take on the body-swap movie, this deserves to be a Gen-Z cult classic. 

This is a film about nothing less than the future of America and the history of mankind. It is brash and bonkers and doesn’t always hang together, but 85-year-old Francis Ford Coppola has rarely been as audacious.

An affectionate road-trip buddy-movie, featuring an unseen depth to Will Ferrell, this documentary is illuminating, timely, and gently funny.

Wolfs has all the practised professionalism of its two anti-heroes, if not quite their spark. But there are few movie stars as straightforwardly enjoyable to watch as Clooney and Pitt.

As sweet and beguiling a musical romance as it’s possible to have between two murderous psychopaths. Its kooky approach won’t suit all stripes of comic-book fan, but it finds a strange, tragic hopefulness all of its own.

The film is strongest when it remembers it’s a Tim Burton film and has licence to get weird. While it’s slicker and less homemade-feeling than the 1988 vintage, there are still flashes of B-movie brilliance.

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.

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.

Alien: Romulus plays the hits, but crucially remembers the ingredients for what makes a good Alien film, and executes them with stunning craft and care. It is, officially, the third-best film in the series.

This is not a perfect film, but it handles the important stuff — abuse, trauma and recovery — unexpectedly well. If its reception is anything like the book’s, it will be a powerful vessel for people with similar stories of their own.

This is probably not the film you would expect it to be. But its unexpectedness is its biggest asset, a moving and very eccentric feathered fantasy about life, death and everything in-between.

Guy Ritchie’s defiantly ahistorical romp is part derring-do spycraft, part bullet-riddled action, part impish comedy, and all-parts silly.

An unorthodox romance that will leave you sweaty-palmed and tearful, in equal measure. It doesn’t quite reach the heights it could, but there’s a hell of a view at the top.

The 4.5 hour-plus runtime might put some off, but that massive canvas only allows for the deepest of deep dives into a monumental achievement in cinematic science-fiction. Another glorious day in the corps!

This is a bold, unusual and gorgeously realised take on the very familiar slasher template — even if it doesn’t quite live up to its innovative promise.

Kill lives up to its name, and then some: this is a breathless, ferociously gory action film, on a level rarely seen before in Indian cinema.

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

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.

A devastating, urgent reminder that art can be dangerous and important and political and powerful — especially in ten-inch heels.

Sasquatch Sunset is a gloriously vulgar film about made-up monsters from children’s stories — but it is also a terribly melancholy adult story about the violence of progress. What a remarkable, unique, sad little cult oddity it is.

Ron Howard’s genial account of the legendary Muppeteer plays it safe, with a fairly traditional documentary-making approach — but it still manages to be adequately inspirational, celebrational and, yes, even Muppetational.

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 chassis may look familiar but there is a very different engine driving Furiosa from that of Fury Road: it’s a rich, sprawling epic that only strengthens and deepens the Max-mythology. It shall ride eternal!

A solid, old-fashioned Irish Western about what it means to hang up your rifle. It isn’t especially deep, but it’s good to see Liam Neeson find some character depth among the usual shooting and grumbling.

Scoop is not quite the prince that was promised. But there are some gripping moments, and some extraordinary performances — especially from Sewell and Piper.

As a political statement, Civil War is provocative and occasionally exasperating; as a purely cinematic experience, it is urgent, heart-in-mouth, extraordinary stuff.

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.

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.

A gentle, odd little Australian fable. Warwick Thornton’s film has a lot of thoughts to process, and while they don’t always cohere, the performances from Blanchett and Reid keep it interesting.

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

As furiously funny as it is helplessly horny, this lesbian road movie simultaneously feels exactly like a Coen brothers film — and entirely its own thing, too.

This is a garish, frequently insane, diamond-encrusted fantasy trip into the mind of a superstar, and we should be grateful to have even limited access.

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

It might look at first glance like another goofy CG distraction-fest, but this is that rare family-friendly film bursting with ideas and challenging concepts. It’s Charlie Kaufman’s introspective existential dread — for kids!

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.

It’s never quite as satisfying an experience as Schitt’s Creek — but thanks especially to a sparky trio of actors, Daniel Levy’s directorial debut is strong when it comes to the heartache of grief and the importance of friends.

John Woo’s first American film in 20 years is not the filmmaker at his peak — but it has its moments, with energetically filmed action enough to distract from a melodramatic tone and sometimes silly concept.

The obvious chemistry and charm of Sydney Sweeney and Glen Powell counts for a lot, yet not quite enough, in a romantic comedy severely lacking in both romance and comedy.

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.

Absolutely batshit, utterly filthy and a true original: Poor Things is as good as Yorgos Lanthimos and Emma Stone have ever been.

Silly, witty, extremely British — this is a family film made with a very Aardman-y kind of craft and care. A good egg.

Moving and musical, this is a striking portrait of courage and creativity in the face of some horrific odds chucked at you by life’s lottery.

This welcome spotlight on a lesser-known civil rights hero doesn’t escape the usual biopic clichés — but Colman Domingo’s impressive, deeply layered performance does this corner of history justice.

This might not be the venerable animation house at its very best, but it is a reminder of why they have endured for so long. Why change a formula when it’s a winning one?

It might follow a linear storytelling path a little too strictly, but Sylvester Stallone is a bracingly honest documentary subject, and fans in particular will take much from this look at a life and career well lived.

Silly, strange, and very funny, Dream Scenario is a psycho-comic-drama with a peak Cage Renaissance performance powering it. Don’t sleep on it.

A classic American sports movie, with all of its triumphs and clichés — kept afloat by two brilliant, warm lead performances from Annette Bening and Jodie Foster.

A very silly, sporadically serious hood spoof, with some surprisingly frank discussions of mental health — and a welcome redemptive arc for the multi-talented Adam Deacon.

A riveting revenge riot, with gobsmacking levels of film craft, and a performance from Michael Fassbender to make your blood run cold. It’s not quite top-tier Fincher, but it comes damn close.

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

Monumental stuff: a story about the deadly legacy of America’s colonial sins, both vast and intimate in scope. Exceptional filmmaking, by an exceptional filmmaker.

A fitting — and frustrating — end to an extraordinary career. Ken Loach’s powerful, poignant storytelling is occasionally stymied by his less subtle impulses.

A close encounter of the wordless kind, this is a smart and splendidly scary horror sci-fi, with a brilliantly brittle turn from Kaitlyn Dever.

With a brisk, biting comic tone and a nice line in righteous anger, Dumb Money skilfully picks up The Big Short’s baton for cinematic-economic takedowns.

A visually arresting new entry in the Dracula canon; if only the satire was as biting as its unlikely vampire star.

The rare teen movie that recognises crushes are never as important or powerful as BFFs — and one that marks an intriguing new direction for Adam Sandler’s Happy Madison productions.

An exuberantly bad-taste ode to our poochy pals. Dumb & Dumber, but for dogs.

Gerard Butler proves he has more in the tank than just thoughtless action with this Middle East-set thriller, which is unexpectedly interested in the people and politics behind the usual explosions.

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

Inventively animated, giddily funny, and a surprisingly authentic take on the outsider experience: it is virtually impossible not to be charmed by these reptilian bros.

Tense, stressful and savagely staged, this is a scarily good debut from YouTubers Danny and Michael Philippou. Be sure to hold someone’s hand while watching.

Sometimes the storytelling can feel like a stretch, but this is mostly a lively, well-told account of a bizarre toy craze gone wrong, and the big personalities behind it.

Madder than a bag of cats. Quentin Dupieux’s latest is even more absurd — and more pointless — than his film about a sentient car tyre. But it’s cheering to know he is still being allowed to make this sort of bollocks.

The story of how Flamin’ Hot Cheetos came to exist barely demands to be told (if it is even true). But like all good junk food, there are still some guilty pleasures to be had here.

Thick with sharpened scissors, and barbers with barbed tongues, Medusa Deluxe is a unique take on the whodunnit mould, and a hell of a debut from British filmmaker Thomas Hardiman.

Truly delightful. Wes Anderson leans into his trademark eccentricities for a trip to the desert that won’t win any converts but will keep the Anderson faithful content.

No Martinis in sight, but this is still an extremely watchable look at a unique naming phenomenon — with surprisingly profound results.

Indy’s final date with destiny has a barmy finale that might divide audiences — but if you join him for the ride, it feels like a fitting goodbye to cinema’s favourite grave-robber.

A film that recognises there is no single answer to questions like ‘who are you?’ or ‘where do you come from’. Stirring, constantly surprising stuff — with an arresting debut turn from Ji-Min Park.

By turns heartwarming and heartbreaking, this is a fascinating and funny twin portrait of a Hollywood rise-and-fall, and the realities of living with Parkinson’s. It only confirms what we already knew: Michael J. Fox is one of the greats.

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

A gripping, well-told, incredibly watchable thriller for a new generation of TikTok sleuths — and a compelling argument to up your average screen-time.

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.

The reach of this avant-garde comic meltdown sometimes exceeds its grasp, but this is still a consistently jaw-dropping joyride through one man’s terrible, very bad, no good week.

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.

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.

A children’s film for pensioners, 80 For Brady is an absurd, silly mess. But in spite of itself — and thanks to the warm, genuine chemistry of its legendary leading ladies — it is sweet, and difficult to truly begrudge.

Ridiculously charming, immensely funny, and shot with an unusual zestiness, Rye Lane is purely joyful company — and a shot in the arm for future romantic comedies.

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!

This documentary feels too stuffed and not insightful enough to be the definitive article — but few skinny-jeans-wearing Millennials will be able to watch without getting nostalgic.

Christopher Landon dials down the blood and dials up the feels for a fun, heartfelt horror-comedy enlivened by David Harbour’s accomplished apparition-acting.

A storming debut from writer-director Saim Sadiq: emotional, tender, and quietly radical. With any luck, it will herald a new era for Pakistani cinema.

Funny, profound, weird, sad, and gorgeously constructed — Marcel is a true original, liable to melt even the most cynical heart. A very special shell indeed.

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

It isn’t always subtle, but Blue Jean is a gorgeously presented, stirringly performed slice of British queer history that announces director Georgia Oakley and actor Rosy McEwen as major talents to watch.

It hardly breaks the romcom mould, but You People is funny and thoughtful on how race can still divide a relationship. As the in-laws from hell, meanwhile, Eddie Murphy and Julia Louis-Dreyfus are the undeniable highlights.

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.

Mesmerising and mystifying, in equal measure. Enys Men confirms Mark Jenkin as one of the most exciting, original cinematic voices in the UK right now.

It doesn’t quite successfully balance its warring tones, but a winningly grumpy performance from Tom Hanks — and a winningly sunny one from Mariana Treviño — ensures for a very watchable take on the ‘giving life another shot’ subgenre.

It’s hard not to get swept up in some evocative, gorgeously staged filmmaking here. But Empire Of Light often seems a little confused about what it is trying to achieve.

It’s a simple but artfully effective debut feature from Irish filmmaker Colm Bairéad, with a remarkable, heartbreaking debut performance from Clinch, whose face betrays anxieties she doesn’t yet fully understand.

Though somewhat flawed and less artistically daring than it could be, Charlotte still makes for an emotional, humane viewing experience.

An emotional, incredibly intimate portrait of one man’s final days. Ondi Timoner’s documentary avoids the political aspects of the process, focusing squarely on the personal impact. The result is moving, humane, and cathartic.

A sweetly pitched — and appropriately unorthodox — tribute from a movie megastar son to his filmmaking legend father.

Emancipation can’t avoid the well-trodden hallmarks of slavery stories, nor offer a particularly fresh perspective on them. It’s best when it leans into other modes — and when it centres on Will Smith’s outstanding, understated performance.

A strange brew. While the family dynamics and capitalist satire work a little better than the outlandish spectacle, White Noise at least appears to herald an ambitious new phase in Noah Baumbach’s career.

A fizzy, gaudy, joyfully entertaining couple of hours. If there’s any right in the world, Rian Johnson and Daniel Craig will continue making films in the Benoit Blanc Cinematic Universe forever.

Part arthouse-Twilight, part John Hughes-ian coming-of-age romance, part Bonnie And Clyde cannibal remix, part dreamy Wim Wenders-esque road trip. This is gorgeous, gruesome work from Luca Guadagnino.

If you liked Enchanted, this is a dependably familiar serving. In an era where Disney is constantly raiding its archives for intellectual property to remake, this is a sequel that feels unusually original by comparison.

Bardo sees director Alejandro González Iñárritu looking at the man in the (hall of) mirrors; the result is visually sensational but sometimes lethally patience-testing.

Another smash from Cartoon Saloon, at once heartily funny and heartfelt. With this and The Breadwinner, director Nora Twomey is now two-for-two.

Really quite something: a rare remake that only augments and enriches the original. For Bill Nighy, meanwhile, it feels in every sense like the role of a lifetime.

Like any good “Weird Al” song parody, Weird takes the music-biopic template and transforms it into something utterly absurd. The result is a polka-popping, piss-taking joy.

Solid, but understated to a fault. Causeway’s biggest appeal is seeing Jennifer Lawrence and Brian Tyree Henry act up a quiet, powerful storm.

An absurd, iconoclastic riot. Ruben Östlund’s point may be blunt — yep, rich people are bad — but his telling of it is hilariously, breathlessly entertaining.

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

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

A thoughtful, meditative thesis on humanity’s relationship with nature, filmed with the kind of cinematographic beauty most fiction filmmakers can only aspire towards.

Another stunning adaptation of the classic anti-war novel: epic and horrific, in equal doses. War has rarely felt this wretchedly, desperately pointless.

A brilliant, bizarre, occasionally grotesque, horror-inflected cinematic delicacy. Sounds like a Peter Strickland film, then.

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 apt tribute to a major figure in film history. The talking heads and archive clips do the job — but hearing it told by Sidney Poitier himself is the real treat.

It doesn’t always work, but an unexpected, perfectly pitched bad-guy turn from national treasure Hugh Bonneville makes I Came By just about worth stopping by for.

Remember the name Nana Mensah — as an actor, writer and director, Queen Of Glory is a hugely impressive calling card.

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.

An old-fashioned, B-movie creature-feature with some CG gloss. Beast is as predictable as anything but it’s a fun, silly, well-made film about a man punching a big cat.

A slow-burn, sluggishly surreal horror, The Feast takes its time getting to the point — but the bloody final act is something to really sink your teeth into.

The action is well-shot, and the buddy dynamic is fun. There’s plenty here that’s familiar, but it’s actually not a terrible way to spend a couple of hours with your Familiar.

If you can stomach the wobbly lessons, the sometimes clunky writing and the offensively bad Irish accents, this is a perfectly fine thing to pop your kid in front of for a couple of hours.

It doesn’t always successfully balance its comic and poignant tones, but yet another powerhouse performance from Olivia Colman makes Joyride a disarming experience.

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

Tinkering with the spy-action wheel rather than reinventing it, this is a pacy, ruggedly entertaining romp, with a punchy pair of lead turns from Gosling and Evans.

Made with genuine affection and innately British whimsy, this is really just an odd-couple comedy about two lonely blokes — one of whom has a “washing machine for a tummy”.

Though not always as profound as it aims for, Swan Song is a tender, warm-hearted reflection of a life well lived. If it’s possible for a prolific septuagenarian to be a revelation, Udo Kier is exactly that.

A remarkable film about a remarkable life, from a remarkable director.

An effective and unsettling allegory for growing up, this is the kind of low-key horror that will make you look twice at cherub-faced youngsters.

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

It follows the rules of the genre as unwaveringly as its hero follows orders, but despite that, there’s a tense, tightly constructed thriller here — and Chris Pine makes a decent play as a neo-Bourne.

A remarkable, first-hand insight into how a modern-day police state operates, and how any kind of meaningful opposition can exist — as terrifying as it is hopeful.

Though occasionally undone by its Sunday-teatime tendencies, this is a spirited and gently entertaining slice of wartime espionage, with sharp, wry performances from the ensemble cast.

A funny, filthy, iconoclastic riot. Paul Verhoeven’s latest erotic satire won’t be for all creeds, but it is bursting with enough ideas that even doubters can find something to believe in here.

This unconventional love story — which plays like a Richard Linklater film set in the Arctic circle — is a total charmer, and will have you reaching for an Interrail ticket immediately afterwards.

A smart, compelling, pared-down thriller for grown-ups, anchored by a pair of stunningly charming performances from Chris Pine and Thandiwe Newton.

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.

With some gorgeously stylised animation and sharp comedy making up for its somewhat lightweight storytelling, The Bad Guys is... not bad.

A dreamlike time capsule of a historic event, told from a kid’s perspective and rendered in beautiful animation — only Richard Linklater could have made this film.

This is simply more fairly generic and forgettable family fodder.

Michael Bay’s tribute to the emergency services (which involves blowing several of them up) is noisy, messy and frequently absurd — yet still somehow his most gleefully entertaining effort in at least a decade.

Short, sharp and mostly satisfying, this is a thriller that sticks to the stripped-back fundamentals of the genre — no more, no less.

Bruising and beautiful in equal measures, La Mif is an impressive slice of social realist drama that feels rooted in something real — because it is.

Matt Reeves’ arrival in the Bat-verse is a gripping, beautifully shot, neo-noir take on an age-old character. Though not a totally radical refit of the Nolan/Snyder era, it establishes a Gotham City we would keenly want a return visit to.

The kind of heist movie that will steal your affections from under your nose. An Ealing-esque comedy with its heart exactly in the right place, it proves a fitting farewell for the multitalented director, Roger Michell.

It’s not trying to reinvent the romcom wheel, and its final bow could be predicted by anyone with half a brain — but I Want You Back is sweeter and more sensitive than you might expect from this kind of broad mainstream romp.

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.

Looser and funnier than his recent efforts, sharper and more formally assured than his earliest films, this is Paul Thomas Anderson operating at full capacity. A master at work.

Director Chloé Zhao’s entry into the superhero world is assured, ambitious and told on a dizzyingly cosmic scale — but even it can’t escape the clichés of superhero storytelling.

As a sensitive portrait of what college is like for the awkward lonely types — and an ode to just staying up late and shooting the sh*t — Freshman Year is a funny, tender treat.

This is Bond film that dutifully ticks all the boxes — but brilliantly, often doesn’t feel like a Bond film at all. For a 007 who strived to bring humanity to larger-than-life hero, it’s a fitting end to the Craig era.

A rivetingly weird and exceptionally beautiful fantasy film that offers no easy answers but ponders the biggest questions — through myths, mysticism, and men in crisis. This is major stuff from David Lowery.

More family-friendly than for-all-ages-friendly — but lively work from the thriving Sony Animation makes this energetic Lin-Manuel Miranda musical mostly worth your time.

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’.

The most terrifying fashion film since The Devil Wears Prada, Deerskin is a deliciously ridiculous farce played largely straight. This is a jacket you will feel the benefit of.

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.

Is this what Studio Ghibli’s future looks like? Probably not. But what Earwig lacks in animation elegance, it makes up for in sparky, kid-friendly adventurousness.

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.

Army Of The Dead is best when Snyder leans into the fun, and allows himself moments of pure silliness. When he aims for more emotional territory — like the rather trite guilt-to-redemption arc between Scott and his estranged daughter, played capably by Ella Purnell — we start to feel the weight of that running time.

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.

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.

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.

A bold, brave first effort behind the camera for Viggo Mortensen, elegantly distilling some painful truths for anyone who has ever had a complicated relationship with a parent.

While it doesn’t quite boast the bullet-train speed or slickness of the original, it’s not a cheap replacement bus imitator, either.

A treat. With astonishing craft and visual storytelling that howls from the screen, Cartoon Saloon have surely secured their place in the animation hall of fame.

Uneven, immature and a little derivative — but entertaining performances from Olivia Cooke and Alec Baldwin keeps Pixie watchable.

Thoughtful, emotional and often surprisingly funny, Terence Davies offers a rich if inconsistent portrait of a unique poet long deserving of a big-screen study.