Stephen Whitty

although it’s far too fannish—this is not a movie that wants to dig deep into anything uncomfortable—it does give the rocker her props, while reminding fans of some modern rock history.

In a way, the film is its own genre – the found-footage documentary. There are no interviews with other people, no self-described experts. Just Hoon, who – adding to the film’s melancholy sense of waste – comes across as an unspoiled, charismatic and mostly amiable young man.

The movie...is a visual feast, one of the rare 3D films which was clearly designed with that extra dimension in mind.

It’s a deliriously silly, often preposterous movie...but director Susanna Fogel keeps things moving too quickly to leave much time for complaints.

Washington is terrific as Roman. The character may be unclear, but the actor’s commitment is focused, and his anger and indignation are sharp and painful.

The Hitman’s Bodyguard is a movie for anyone who just wants to see Samuel L. Jackson curse, Ryan Reynolds smirk and Salma Hayek kick butt while looking absolutely incredible. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

As a brief, brightly-coloured, virtual babysitter – lasting just long enough to keep the children diverted while you check in and out of that last Zoom meeting, and get dinner on the table – it dutifully fulfills its obligations. But anyone looking for much beyond that in this tale of a flying squirrel – well, they’d have to be nuts.

Going in Style has gone a little soft. The geezers-go-gangsta story is back, but in a remake that lacks the edge that made the 1979 original memorable. It’s cuddly when it should be cranky, nice when it needs to be a little nasty.

Jackson is terrific, of course, although he's the spice here, not the main meal. As Lysistrata, Teyonah Parris is a fierce, finger-snapping leader while, as her man Chi-Raq, a cast-against-type Nick Cannon, is surprisingly tough and moody.

A quiet, restrained drama, Louder Than Bombs works a little like a photographer itself, changing its focus, showcasing scenes from different points of view, rearranging the order of the images.

It's tasty at times, but feels like a very special episode of "30 Rock." Halfway in, you're still expecting Kenneth the Page to show up.

It's fun to have new version of an old Marvel favorite, and a storyline which adds some genuine mysticism to this ever-expanding franchise. But "Strange" is too often only odd when it needs to be truly magical, and Hollywood-safe when it needs to be brave.

Like the first film, The Secret Life of Pets 2 is at its best when it concentrates on the unconditional love offered by mankind’s best friends, or gently mocks familiar situations.

At its core, The Kill Team has one great performance, and some important things to say – about the dangerous appeal of the strong, and the easy malleability of the young. It’s well worth watching, and thinking on. It’s just a shame that that great performance isn’t matched by all the others – and that what the film has to say is said in such a dutifully by-the-book way.

The film barely lasts an hour-and-a-half. Maybe that’s the problem with the movie. There’s not enough movie.

Has the bare necessities, but not much more.

The result is a careful chronicle that, while staying true to its observational ethos, nonetheless, leaves plenty of questions – and, occasionally, its audience – behind.

It’s not a great movie, but it’s a good reminder of why Rockwell’s admirers have happily stuck with him for decades.

Director Stefano Sollima, who cut his teeth on Italian TV mob dramas, is good at building suspense. He fills the screen with striking images, too -- night-vision raids, heat-signature tracking, eye-in-the-sky surveillance.

Hidden Figures is an earnest movie, but not a very exciting one. The screenplay feels as engineered as a Gemini rocket launch, with every scene and line carefully calculated.

Despite some great effects, and one good performance, it never quite gets underway.

Although the story’s point is clear, the plotting is thin, and it can be easy at times for viewers to feel as confined as the prisoners. But the production design – all grey cement walls, with that platform cutting through the center of the screen like an infernal dumbwaiter – is superb.

The movie's no knockout, but at least it gives us one good performance, and one great one.

In the end, you get a Sunday morning sermon when what you really want is a Saturday midnight screening.

To its credit, even the film realizes how ridiculous it is. After one over-the-top hand-to-hand bout, Lorraine and her Boris Badenov opponent are left literally punch-drunk, swinging wild like a couple of stumblebums.

Marshall makes a good case for its hero as one of the brightest, boldest lawyers to ever walk into a courtroom. So why is it sometimes such a trial?

Unforgettable isn't.

For fans of this goofy sort of comedy, or of Atkinson’s similarly loopy “Mr. Bean,” it may be a gentle treat.