It remains remarkable that, at the grand old age of 73, Bertolucci is still making films of intelligence and guile, let alone features about teenage angst and sexual maturation.

The script by Cronin and Stephen Shields blends the familiar with the eerie well and never allows silliness to take over. The performances all round are superb and Seána Kerslake creates a credible heroine – a woman on the edge but who is by no means fragile.

Delivering clear big screen moments, of which will leave audiences itching to return and experience it all over again, you simply cannot deny that this eccentric mix of ABBA and cinema still holds magic.

The acting throughout is supremely naturalistic, and the social milieu of both family life and the theatre are carefully observed and lightly rendered.

It must be said that Foster - who adhered to the actual doping program during filming - excels as Armstrong. Bearing an unnerving physical resemblance to the fallen cycling hero, he is a revelation in a remarkable tour de force - not France - performance.

Kahn floats the idea that it’s not simply God who has enraptured Thomas’ soul, but his desire to exist within a society that accepts him. Sadly the mechanical aspects of the film’s plotting mean these ideas never manage to bubble to the surface

The Kindergarten Teacher evokes sadness and horror in equal measure, but not always a great deal of understanding.

Booksmart has its undeniably crowd-pleasing moments, but it doesn’t stray as far from the status quo of the genre as it possibly could have.

Having constructed such a dramatically enticing set-up, it's thus disappointing to see Mackenzie fall back on familiar generic tropes with such a frustrating sense of inevitability.

The style, one senses, is overcompensating for a narrative slackness that has nowhere particular to go other than anti-climax. That's not to say that Manglehorn isn't a good film - it is. It's just that Pacino's seasoned performance deserved a great film.

It's all raucous, good natured fun and the laughs come thick and fast.

The King feels disconnected and unurgent. Despite some wonderful moments, it perhaps lacks the requisite majesty.

Sticking to documentary form for the most part with key talking heads, a barrage of headlines and ample news broadcasts, the co-directors are not afraid to shock with gruesome crime scene footage.

John Madden's The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel offers just as much joy, heart and chuckles as its hugely successful predecessor.

At times the whole film threatens to turn into a visual stream of consciousness exercise which is a real shame, as Greenfield’s aims are entirely admirable and with merit.

It's not just some science-fiction about rodents preying on humans; it's a documentary about it. "They will literally kill us," explains a lecturer early on in what the filmmakers frame as a fully-fledged horror complete with jump-scares, an ominous score, and all manner of squeamish moments.

Uneven, convoluted and laden with far too many twists and turns Creepy sadly struggles to balance both terror and suspense, with any intrigue dissipating long before the film's secrets are eventually unravelled.

The sheer insanity of the premise alone is enough to make Tusk a surreal hoot.

There are few documentaries that feel like wholesome family films (20 Feet From Stardom is a rare example) but this is one. Overly reverential perhaps, but Won’t You Be My Neighbor? is an uncynical tonic for a very cynical age.

No doubt many will find German’s approach pretentious and overly repetitive.

The Eternal Daughter is very much a minor film for Hogg: a small chamber piece which could be watched as amusing marginalia to The Souvenir diptych. It’s a hangout film for those among you who can’t get enough Tilda Swinton and an incredibly cute dog, and as such it works. It doesn’t really have anything to say, and the meta-ness feels a little tired.

Ultimately, Memphis is a bold and bewildering conjuring act, that might mean nothing at all, but the sleight of hand is worth the price of admission.

This is a heartfelt and charismatic teen movie that gives a platform to a promising young talent.

It’s all tasteful and non-sensationalist in approach. However, some will mistake an important topic for great filmmaking. Schrader’s film relies more on the former than displaying the latter.

Though it may not be one of Craven’s very best efforts, it does create a sense of tension seldom felt in horror cinema.

Whatever strange alchemy went into this film, nothing is so strange as how compelling it proves to be when you approach its premise with complete seriousness.

Efira is a dominant and compelling presence and Sibyl is frequently funny. Ultimately, it never quite squares the circle of the comedy and the pain, but Triet is a sophisticated filmmaker and this – her third feature – is further proof of great talent.

Nothing quite competes with the blistering opening scene, but The Salvation's cast of characters mean it's never less than a fun watch.

Chief in CODA’s achievements are the dynamics of the very close unit at its core. Coming away from the film, there is the sense that this could very well be a real family.

The Hateful Eight is easily Tarantino's most fantastic film in terms of its visuals, its period detail and its award-worthy score, but it suffers from the director's common pitfalls while lacking the verve that so often carries him through.

A meandering, almost impenetrable tale of sweaty strip joints and sleazy gangsters.

Hopefully, Soderbergh’s film will raise more awareness as well as a chuckle.

The film can't be faulted for its attempt to argue for some kind of humane kinship and reconciliation, even if this attempt ends up dissolving the enmity in a sentimentality that, given what has come before, strains credibility.

Displaying an exemplary commitment to knuckle-biting tension, director Serra has made a riveting B-movie.

Babyteeth is a funny, vibrant and deeply moving piece of work. Its flaws are the flaws of youth, overcompensating for boredom with frenetic hyperactivity.

The film itself is utterly uncontroversial, solid, occasionally stolid, and perfectly fine.

This is pop-punk filmmaking – vibrant, disposable, and shallow. Still, it’s difficult to care about the nutritional content of your confectionary when it tastes this sweet.

There’s little here to surprise anyone with a passing familiarity with the story, and its creepiest elements sometimes feel neutered. It may be heresy, but the body-horror of the Land of Toys and sublime terror of the whale were imagined far more viscerally in the Disney version.

Despite its lunkish, ludicrous – and frankly cynical – qualities, this entry retains much of the appeal of previous entries.

It is, after all, the Baymax show - and he is cute, cuddly, comedy gold. Fortunately, although Big Hero 6 has various flaws, he's generally on hand to patch them.

This is heartfelt, inspiring stuff and there is no doubt that this is a true story that absolutely merits wider recognition.

There is much to enjoy here - especially at the beginning - and Östlund's ambition and vision are to be applauded. However, The Square would have been greatly improved had the director taken his scalpel and his demanding critical eye and applied it to the film itself.

Besides the overt journey for Christopher Robin of rediscovering some childhood joy, this film is a poignant exploration of the way in which we sideline important friendships at the behest of professional advancement.

Pearl is notable as a pandemic film, situating itself in the middle of the Spanish flu outbreak, though much like its engagement with sex, violence and entertainment, and its treatment of women, the film sets the table for a discussion but doesn’t quite make a full meal of it.

The Founder is a solid biopic but not one that will go down in history - unlike the multi-million dollar-making fast food chain at its core.

The Guardians is a subtle, beautifully made and quietly feminist work about the fortitude of women during wartime.

Colossal possesses some real depth in its acting and its description of human relationships, it's just a shame that when it sinks a few beers and gets up to do the monster mash: things get a little too silly.

Captain Fantastic is a slickly made comedy with a witty, politically articulate script and some wonderful cinematography by former Jacques Audiard regular Stéphane Fontaine.

A Woman's Life is a modest chamber piece, a series of sketches revealing a life of quiet desperation, which eschews melodrama and, for the most part, platitudes but exhibits great tenderness and sensitivity.

With God Exists, Her Name Is Petrunya, Mitevska has fashioned yet another bleak satire about Hegemonic masculinity in the Balkans.

The tributes paid to Yauch throughout by both Horovitz and Diamond are genuinely touching, and it’s here that Beastie Boys Story breaks through its inherent – often distracting – staginess. While there is still a definitive, impartial Beastie Boys film in the offing, devout fans should be more than satisfied by this nostalgic oddity.

Respect and admiration for her work and carefree nature is in plentiful supply but this is not an exclusively glowing retrospective.

As far as dramas of this kind are concerned The Panic in Needle Park is, in my view, without doubt one of the most thought-provoking ever committed to film.

It's as if Wiseman has taken his cue from the old style librarians and has wanted to give a portrait of a community but without the inevitable noise that goes with it, issuing one long "shhhhhhhhh".

Sid and Nancy rages with a vitriolic fury which eventually becomes tiresome.

Cruise rides the Breaking Bad and Narcos train, only not as well as either.

This is a rich portrait of not only Mapplethorpe, but also the history of the New York art world in the latter half of the 20th century.

Despite being lethargic at times, it's a rich portrait of people and place.

The US-born, Kenyan-raised director’s feature-length debut is told with honesty, determination and grace.

Collins' revolutionary-lite rhetoric has become unravelled by the commercially driven decision to split the final novel into two films - ultimately lessening the satirical bite and reverting to the very gender archetypes it originally sought to challenge.

Aside from the film’s more immediate pleasures, what is perhaps most intriguing about Why Don’t You Just Die! is Sokolov’s almost visible attempt to find his own voice: among this melange of film-school influences, it’s undoubtedly there, though perhaps it hasn’t quite formed yet.

Were it not for these overwrought provocations The Golden Glove could have been Akin’s most accomplished work in years. Aesthetically speaking it remains a marvel.

While the premise of Rafiki is well-worn, the context of the film is not and Kahiu brings fresh zest to a familiar story which is told with spirit.

Vesper is throughout a gripping post-apocalypse fable. Despite its mythological derivations, Buozyte and Samper’s world, grounded in blood, mud and viscera, is often uncomfortably close to our own.

An unnecessarily loud ending is an unwelcome jolt that will likely divide audiences down the middle, but Chronic is an otherwise unique character study of endearing depth.

Ash Is Purest White is a fascinating chapter in Jia’s ongoing chronicle of ordinary lives affected by unprecedented change in China.

Involving and well made, rather than something flat-out great and essential.

The political commentary feels far more explicitly pointed and widely integral than in previous incarnations which adds a bold new dynamic where perhaps the same re-inventive verve is lacking in the film's formulaic story. Fortunately, Greengrass and Damon are so in command of this material it's rarely too much of a concern. Even when little of substance seems to be happening, the narrative feels propulsive.

Tom of Finland is imbued with playfulness but not the cutting edge, and bravery, of its eponymous leading man.

Cult of Chucky is by and large a gory hoot, with Jennifer Tilly stealing every scene she’s in.

Franco has a hardlined style and a kind of story that play like an apprentice Haneke. However, as each film arrives, the power diminishes, because the stories are now easily predictable.

The nighttime tungsten orange of the street lighting and the urine-coloured neon of the interiors makes for a grueling visual experience which is why the daylight of the latter-half offers precious relief.

It’s an enjoyable but static viewing experience, where even the tales of wild parties, disco dancing and sex become worn out through overuse.

Impressive for the most part without being awe-inspiring, the film's two timelines converge in a much more satisfying and thrilling ways towards the end, where the emotional stakes are considerably upped.

When You Finish Saving the World is fine. It’s well made, witty, and Wolfhard and Moore are effortlessly convincing in their roles; Wolfhard shucking off his Stranger Things image in the process. The problem – if there is one – is in the smooth snark of the title. There are sharp edges here that never bite.

So much is thrown at the wall that some of it's got to stick - comedy for comedy's sake, if you will - and while that doesn't make for a great film necessarily, it certainly doesn't make for a bad one.

An uncategorisable odyssey of sub-Freudian nightmares that goes hard on suffering but soft on narrative intrigue.

When everything comes full circle, Marguerite is an enjoyable comedy with hints of dark satire and tangy melodrama.

Irony has a wearying effect after a while, ultimately leading to a flattening of the ethical landscape so that by the end of it we can’t help but feel they’re all as bad as each other.

Proceeding with a linear chronology to the present day, Castro’s Spies does justice to the long trials and many tribulations of its engaging subjects without ever flying too far off the expected route.

At its very best his Venus in Fur is a clever and often comical two-hander, with Amalric and Seigner both giving tour de force performances.

A clever, daring and unusual piece of cinema which fans of thinking outside the box will appreciate.

Watching the goofy boy develop into a man, we share in his experiences and root for him each step of the way.

In only ever managing to skim the surface, the spirit of their crusade is never really evoked. What's left is ultimately a handsome, and at times heart-stopping voyage that never lives up to its classic forebears.

The choice soundtrack, accompanied by the candyfloss aesthetic make for moments of fun, but it ultimately lacks the originality of the first.

Like many of the films from that era, Coffy hasn’t aged particularly well, but it’s still an entertaining snapshot of the shifting sociological changes of that time wrapped up in crowd- pleasing B-movie.

In its surreal rendering of space and character, Fingers in the Wind offers enough ambition, intelligence and unvarnished authenticity to warrant recommendation.

With its surprising narrative twists and handsome visuals, Black Souls ends up being a far more original take on the Italian organised crime drama than first thought.

Deladonchamps and Lacoste make for engaging leads and there is warmth and humour here too.

With Blood of My Blood, Bellochio has made a film about how resilient evil, corruption and human stupidity really are.

A mess then, but a mess that deserves to be indulged.

Dark, lurid, sadistic and powerful, it is at the least a fascinating and bold debut, and promises better to come.

There are numerous delights for the patient and the two leads give prize-worthy performances but at just under three hours this is one drawn-out gag that almost outstays its welcome.

While Sirk didn’t believe it to be his greatest work, it’s perhaps best-known for being his most personal, ambitious and starkly cynical film; far removed from the more distinguishable, Technicolor-infused melodramas of that peppered his career.

The story begins with the film's defining act and most accomplished sequence but, despite handsome execution, never hits those heights again in a plot where familiarity severely dampens the squib.

Shazam!’s candy-floss sweetness rarely fails to hit the spot.

It's endearing, but unlikely to convert those that have previously resisted the director's charms.

Films about teens looking for love and acceptance may be well-trodden ground, but Paper Towns finds a fresher path to get there.