Branagh has done a sterling job, full of energy and colour, and although some of them might balk at his modern interpretation of the story, his Magic Flute will no doubt attract aficionados, if not the popcorn crowd.

Anyone fascinated by artistic follies will take an academic interest in its excesses, and it's certainly loopy enough to build a cult following. But this pretentious, portentous curio will test the patience of everyone else.

At times it's as if the film itself was stitched together from the parts of other movies, but collecting all those bits and pieces is a sign of Gyllenhaal's huge scope and ambition.

The film is fun enough in its chaotic, grungy, rough and ready way. It may not propel Smith back to the top of the A-list, but it proves that he can get through a B-movie. At this stage in his career, that counts as a win.

The film has its entertaining, off-the-wall comic moments.

It might be best to watch Cocaine Bear at home, where you can skip past the rambling sections and go straight to the laughs and screams. In the cinema, most viewers will wish that it was wittier, faster, and more willing to fulfil the gonzo potential of its in-your-face title. It's definitely better than Banks's last film, Charlie's Angels, but you can't help feeling that she has done the bear minimum.

The main feeling it instils in the viewer is a renewed respect for the imagination of Lucas. The Rise of Skywalker has been lovingly crafted by a host of talented people, and yet the best they can do is pay tribute to everything he did several decades ago.

This remarkable collaboration between legendary Japanese animator Leiji Matsumoto and Parisian techno gurus Daft Punk is a visual and aural treat of intergalactic proportions.

Whether the film excites you or not, it does excel with some glossy art direction that looks suitably slick in a quality picture transfer. Clear and sharp, this is a pleasure to watch.

A flimsy but pleasant enough comedy.

Tommy Lee Jones wisecracks his way after the Black Moon supercar in this intriguing action film that was to prove highly influential for the later "Die Hard".

Renfield is worth watching for Cage, Hoult and Awkwafina's entertaining performances, and not much more.

Writer and director Sam Levinson, who also created the audacious and enthralling HBO series Euphoria, gives the familiar story a makeover with dynamic, sensitive performances from its hugely talented stars, and a story that broadens to include race and the new Hollywood.

Eternals is more serious in tone and more deliberate in its pacing than the average Marvel movie, with less of the usual banter and no cameo appearances by other superheroes. But, if you're looking for the humanity and originality of Zhao's other films, you won't find much of it here.

While Channing Tatum is charismatic, and there are a few flashes of wit in the script, the latest Magic Mike sequel is 'tepid'.

It's refreshing to see a grown-up Hollywood film that takes on contemporary issues: feminism, cancel culture, identity politics, and the generation gap. But After the Hunt is more of an admirable project than an engaging drama, because it never stops reminding you of how clever it wants to be.

Mulholland Falls is a period thriller that is distinguished by an excellent cast, even if most of them seem to be outdoing each other in deep gravel voices.

Despite its shoddy script it does benefit from superior art direction that looks a million dollars.

If you can't improve on Spielberg – and really, when it comes to this kind of film, who can? – better to try something bold to prevent any waning dino-interest.

The Hunt is a smart satire that uses genre tropes to explore volatile social issues.

The story is cluttered, the tone is muddled, and the pacing is off. Again, that doesn't make the film a disaster. In some ways, the identity crisis is what makes it worth seeing. But this muddled production will be enjoyed more by politics and cinema students than by children who are hoping to be enchanted by Disney magic.

The deepest flaw in My Policeman is that we grasp too little of the characters' inner lives.

Blonde is less preoccupied with building a faithful portrayal of the real-life figure than with translating the brutal ruthlessness of celebrity, holding an uncomfortable mirror up to the people who enjoy dabbling in voyeurism neatly packaged as entertainment.

The Russos clearly couldn't decide which tone to go for, so they made a zany farce about cheerful super-spies, and then they made a cynical conspiracy drama about death and trauma, and they kept cutting between them. The result is a film that never seems to know what it's doing, or why.

Neil Jordan's re-working of Michael Curtiz's 1954 film We're No Angels is a woefully shoddy, misfiring, and mis-conceived affair typical of the director's frequent forays into Hollywood.

Almost entirely free of context or comment, it’s like watching a grim, sordid and in fact rather dull porno flick, where the director documents the sexual demands of a number of ‘imaginative’ businessmen and then – unlike the prostitute herself – does nothing with them.

The combination of Depp and Maïwenn may have seemed like a dangerous one, but on this occasion they're playing it safe.

Bill Murray has a single scene as Lord Krylar, an amalgam of all droll Bill Murray characters. William Jackson Harper is wry as a sympathetic telepath, who unfortunately disappears for much of the film.