Jordan Bassett

That title wrongly suggests the work of an artistic visionary scaling new heights of elevated horror; instead, this is a fun, dumb thrill ride that breathes powerfully fetid air into the ongoing string of mummy movies.

There are some entertaining showdowns and Weaving again excels as the funny and fearsome Grace, one of modern horror’s toughest protagonists.

Inside the Manosphere is a meta masterpiece that tackles the algorithmic poison being served to young men, but also says so much about the battle between new and old media, as well as the toxic battleground of social platforms, contemporary conspiracy theories and the parasocial relationships that make some influencers rich.

EPiC: Elvis Presley In Concert is a kaleidoscopic mix of documentary and concert movie, replete with a behind-the-scenes peek at the rehearsal process, much of it narrated by Elvis himself. Forget talking heads: Luhrmann has described his tribute as a “tone poem”.

At one point, he insists he’s not a workaholic but a “playaholic”, which might be the ultimate Macca-ism. In fact, that quip sums up his depiction in Man On The Run: goofy and a little corny, but always endearingly himself.

It is a film about living fully and without fear, a cynicism-free zone where, for all their fast-talking, people love each other so much it makes your heart feel like it’s about to burst. Talk about a smash.

There is some good stuff here: it looks beautiful, the score is flesh-crawlingly creepy and there are individual shots that will stay with you for weeks. . . Alas, these qualities are all but lost in a slush of nonsensical narrative, unintentional (or so it seems) laughs and characters who are introduced only to drift away like flotsam.

This is a horror that’s in love with scary movies; a post-modern remix of genre classics filmed through an arthouse gauze that never obscures its goofy sense of humour.

For at least half of its runtime, Last Rites is as handsome, solidly made and jumpy as the original. It’s never actually scary but Chaves . . . has been generous with the popcorn-flinging set pieces that make these movies perfect date-night fodder.

If Caught Stealing’s not quite a home run, it is a nail-biter that’ll have you hooked until the final play.

Ironically for a film about AI-powered killer dolls, M3GAN 2.0 has lot of heart.

If it sounds like Boyle and Garland have been smoking some super-strength Cali weed in the writers’ room, you’ve heard nothing yet.

Final Destination Bloodlines is even more self-aware than its predecessors, with hugely enjoyable results.

It’s a shame the movie has such a goofy name, which throws a shroud over a powerful and unique cinematic experience.

The film lacks narrative drive and genuine comedy, then. As it barrels towards its inevitable conclusion, though, a funny thing happens. Out of the chaos emerges a rather inspiring ode to making it up as you go along, living in the moment, saying ‘yes’ and hoping for the best.

Wolf Man isn’t quite as creepy or emotionally charged as its predecessor. Some of the dad trauma stuff is laid on a bit thick and the whole enterprise runs out of puff in its final third, partly because the titular creature doesn’t actually look very scary (at times, you sense a strong coffee and a fry-up would sort him out).

Dodgy depictions of real-life celebs (such as Liam Gallagher) clash with the film’s fantastical tone, which itself can’t support Gracey’s attempt to address serious topics.

Maria is both winningly camp and a little too po-faced for its own good, apparently unsure if it’s meant to be tongue-in-cheek or deadly serious.

With scenes of harrowing violence, the film often feels totally unsafe: no adult’s motives are beyond reproach. In true Andrea Arnold style, though, it’s also a life-enhancing tale that soars with unexpected grace, optimism and faith in humanity.

Unfortunately, its intriguing conceit is also hampered by comatose chemistry, a claustrophobic setting and a slew of dead one-liners.