There’s just enough thrills and gills here to satisfy both monster-movie junkies and advocates of multi-million dollar US/Chinese co-productions.

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.

Hotel Artemis is a bold, loud, ambitious film, far cleverer than the bog-standard summer blockbuster fare, and with sharp humour and driving suspense it makes this pulpy-sci fi thriller a very fun watch.

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.

With well-balanced humour, and a heartfelt father/daughter narrative, Ant-Man and The Wasp makes for refreshing viewing after the gasp-inducing drama of Thanos clicking his fingers. Sometimes, focusing on the smaller stories is just better.

With some subtle commentary on class, as well as gender politics, The Escape is an impressive portrayal of existential angst and the disintegration of self, and Arterton’s performance is breathtaking.

Not only is Fallout the best Mission: Impossible film by a considerable margin, it is also undoubtedly the best action film of the year.

MacDonald’s Whitney is compellingly told with compassion and style, showing just how great a gift Houston was blessed with, but also the demons that pursued her all her life to its tragic end.

Calibre is a thriller, but one that’s rooted in reality rather than the fantastical or absurd; edgy and tragic.

Despite all this, Sicario 2 remains highly watchable thanks to what it does preserve from the original: its mood of constant dread and impending doom.

This Is Congo is an angry film, yet one which is never blinded by its anger. McCabe offers no solutions – the UN Peacekeeping Force are rounded on at one point by furious locals – and no grounds for optimism. Yet even in its attempts to understand and to communicate that understanding, there is a defiance against the easy fallback of despair.

In a film about resurrected dinosaurs, suspension of disbelief is mandatory, but the script’s illogical nonsense and flat, cartoonish characters compound on each other until any audience goodwill has evaporated.

Kelly eschews talking heads or expert testimony, and only rarely to characters flesh out the skeleton provided by occasional intertitles. When this style is employed for a single, short-term conflict, it can be incredibly powerful (just think of Sergei Loznitsa’s Maïdan) but Kelly’s film effectively drops the audience in situ at specific events within a much broader six-year framework without any context.

There’s nary a memorable shot in the whole film. As for Ehrenreich’s performance, it’s honestly difficult to tell how good he is. Remarkably for a film called Solo, with so many characters each one nibbling at the scenes, he hardly has room to shine.

Gonzalez can be masterful in conjuring sexy imagery, febrile moods and erotic frissons, but his grip on the storytelling here is weak. Knife + Heart struggles to regain its initial momentum, falling flat until a lively climax.

Once we start to understand Ayka’s life and reasons for behaving how she does, the film gains tragic dimensions and its humanist voice grows into a desperate cry.

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

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.

Makes for a generally powerful statement on human misery and grotesque inequality, though some third act creative decisions and maneuvers cause a wobble or two.

The Wild Pear Tree isn’t a showy or boldly radical work, this is still Ceylan’s brand of poetic landscapes and intimate dramas, but it does represent an intriguing artistic progression, so any claims of ‘more of the same’ are redundant.

Yomeddine is an accomplished appeal for empathy and an entertaining journey of discovery.

Serebrennikov...has a great eye for composition and crafting a set piece, but the meandering pace and loose approach to storytelling makes his second feature akin to an album front loaded with banging tunes and the rest is filler.

Everything seems designed to disturb or perhaps infuriate the viewer.

Husson’s film is first and foremost an appalling account of stomach-churning misogyny and the sickening horrors Kurdish women met at the hands of their vile captors.

Girl is an extraordinarily moving film.

The film’s displays of humour give away to harsher scenes of brutality and intense moments where rural calm is suddenly disrupted by mortar explosions and transformed landscapes dotted with corpses.

Border is a piece of modern gothic, a far out midnight movie which delivers on the WTF-ery while maintaining a surprisingly big and generous heart.

The final moments veer too far towards the melodramatic, especially when the rest of the movie has exhibited a preference for the intellectual powers of argument, logic and reason, however the sense of desperation and accompanying symbolism is tragically potent.

Mitchell’s third film feels like a script that was locked in a drawer after numerous rejections but now can be brought out and pushed through with clout earned from the success of It Follows.

Put simply, the adaptation doesn’t work and the movie is instantly forgettable.

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

After all is said and done, ‘The House that Lars Built’ is an impressive construction for an obnoxious purpose. In fact, the best criticism comes from Talking Heads and their song Psycho Killer: “You’re talking a lot but you’re not really saying anything.”

Infinity War will likely be first choice for the summer season crowd, but Deadpool 2 wins hands down in terms of personal stakes and visual flair.

Panahi keeps everything as softly spoken as his own onscreen presence and yet some of those quiet observations are devastating.

Birds of Passage is an enthralling, powerful statement and lamentation on the drugs trade’s inevitable encroachment upon on indigenous peoples and how gangsters casually destroyed them.

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

Far from breaking the mould of the survival drama genre, Arctic nonetheless offers thrilling moments and entertains throughout, mainly thanks to Mikkelsen’s muscular performance as the grizzled Overgård.

The art direction, cinematography and costume design are superb.

Arguably, this is the Iranian’s most mainstream film to date, and lacks the subtlety of his early work, yet he still shows he has the ability to deliver devastating blows that leave you stunned. While not on top form, Faradhi demonstrates he is still a master craftsman, albeit in a more conventional mould.

Racer and the Jailbird is a stylish, often promising film, but sadly one that never coheres into genuine drama.

Beast is rough around the edges but as a feature debut marks out its director as one of the most intriguing new talents in British filmmaking.

Journeyman is not a pleasurable watch, but as a quietly devastating and heartfelt approach to trauma and those affected by it, it’s a winner.

Ghost Stories is uncomfortably timely, reminding us the haunted past is always haunting the present.

It’s the impeccable performances of its central quartet and delicious premise that makes A Quiet Place such an exhilarating watch.

Sweet Country is a hoarsely angry film, a powerful denunciation of the racism and violence on which modern Australia was eventually founded.

Spielberg asks audiences to fondly remember their childhood, and to fall back in love with characters, songs and stories long forgotten. At the same time, there is a didactic notion that reality is always better than a synthetic replication. You can’t comfortably have both.

Fiennes doesn’t do anything radical in her handling of the footage or the approach, but with a subject like Grace Jones a simple approach is still spellbinding.

Despite paying no attention to events beyond the trenches, Journey’s End is nonetheless deeply political in its depiction of the class tensions that characterised the war.

The film ultimately ends up feeling like a shaggy dog story – a metaphor for Ted Kennedy, perhaps – engaging, charismatic, but ending with a whimper.

Jones has great talent as a director, but even with good performances by the cast, Mute is let down by a weak and bland script.

An adroit, and trashy thriller leached of all its significance by a plot that spirals uncontrollably into lunacy, Unsane takes the feverish temperature of a country enraged by sexual harassment and decides to turn up the heat.

The Green Fog is part city symphony, part playful tribute; but primarily an example of pure, unadulterated cinematic delirium.

Other than a sinking feeling, there’s not much else The Chamber is going to give you.

The film is packed with laugh-out-loud moments, full of deadpan observations – a quintessential Anderson touch – and exciting sequences.

Ryan Coogler’s Black Panther is the film that will change everything. When you see it, you know that from here on in, everything will be different. Whilst a Marvel story through and through, fitting perfectly into the MCU post-Captain America: Civil War, Black Panther stands alone as a masterpiece of filmmaking.

It’s an assuredly thought-provoking film that’s earnestness doesn’t drag it into the weeds, concluding with a wholly deserved, humanely warm resolution.

As moving and timely as The Final Year is, it doesn’t quite hit these marks.

Thankfully, some typically rich voice-acting and a plethora of visual gags help to gloss over a number of uncharacteristic stumbles.

A slow-burning drama about slavery in all its forms, this austere, visually striking film combines a harrowing period of Brazilian history with devastating accuracy of emotion.

Rian Johnson’s film is the real deal, a bold, risky venture unafraid to tell its own story, freed from the weight of nostalgia and formula.

Though Mudbound represent a period of injustice consigned to history, its examination of a toxic, racist masculinity stuck in the past could hardly be more relevant today.

Where Snyder’s previous film at least tried to consider the ramifications of Gods living among us, Justice League is about nothing other than the vapid, commercial need to make a Justice League film.

It is told with characteristic precision, compassion and determination by its prolific director.

It's triumph is its determined optimism, even if it admits that is probably a fantasy. It's a tale of the fallen who, like Moonee's favourite tree, keeps on growing regardless.

The pacing of Meyers' film sometimes drags a little but like a slow-moving training heading for the end of the line we can see the danger ahead and are powerless to prevent it. This frustration, and a gripping central performance, make My Friend Dahmer a film you can't pull your eyes away from.

The first Paddington was a joyful and somewhat unexpected treat, and the sequel is no different.

Delighting in the ancient tradition of storytelling as a means of education and understanding as well as entertainment, Nora Twomey's The Breadwinner is a richly animated jewel.

Di Giacomo doesn’t build sequences to heighten tension, although some is unavoidable. Often, the film follows the relatively mundane work of the Franciscan Father Cataldo Migliazzo, the film’s primary protagonist, and the otherwise everyday lives of those who come to him for help.

As with Kaufman's own stunts, it's difficult to know what to take seriously.

Impressively, Waititi manages to retain his unique brand of humour while fulfilling his obligations to the franchise with Thor: Ragnarok.

Blade Runner 2049 is not a perfect film. The pace occasionally puts the plod in the procedural and some story elements are introduced only to drift away to the land of possible sequels. But Villeneuve has created a genuinely thoughtful piece of sci-fi which escapes the gravitational pull of its inspiration to become something - to paraphrase Dr. Eldon Tyrrell - more Blade Runner than Blade Runner.

Though Day may remain silent behind his camera, an omnipotent narrative voice lends The Islands and the Whales a folkloric, ethereal quality that alludes to the importance of legend and tradition for the Faroese people who for 1000 years, since the time of the Vikings, have "relied on the seas for its livelihood."

There's a lot that's wonderful about Andrei Konchalovsky's Holocaust drama Paradise and yet there's something fundamentally wrong with the film.

Una is undoubtedly a difficult watch, and its moral ambivalence may be beyond the pale for some. But the sensitivity with which it treats its subjects and the nuance that the film brings to the most incendiary of debates is admirable.

A deeply felt, loving tribute to a truly remarkable woman.

The Leisure Seeker is dry-eyed even at its most moving and a celebration of love even as it reaches its end.

It is difficult to work out what to dislike most about Victoria and Abdul: the literal foot-licking or the cliché-ridden plot, but the greatest shame is the waste of a genuinely fascinating piece of history and a world-class Judi Dench performance.

What keeps Green's film just about on the right side of rote is a trio of solid performances, a sensitive, fair portrayal of Jeff's relationship with Erin with some standout scenes between the two, and a focus on the personal over the political.

With Sorkin's signature whip-crack dialogue driving an astonishingly assured directorial debut, Molly's Game is an exhilarating, superbly crafted crime drama.

A lovingly observed, pitch perfect coming-of-age comedy, Gerwig's warm, astute account of the end of adolescence is a stunning solo debut.

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".

The ingredients of a quality film are all here. It just could have done with being a bit shorter and a bit snappier.

The Work is a rousing, arresting and ultimately cathartic call-to-arms for the power and value of rehabilitation.

Three Billboards Outside Ebbing, Missouri is a multi-layered piece with such swathes of great dialogue that it will no doubt reward - if not demand - multiple viewings. It's also another item of evidence pointing toward a filmmaker getting into his stride.

With its epic scale and global reach, Human Flow is a powerful testament to a shameful crime against humanity.

Yes, it is pretentious. But pretension is also about ambition and this is cinema that is willing to kick out the lights.

Clooney only shows flashes of comic moxy, and everything is drowned in a now tiresome fetishizing of the 1950s aesthetic, with gizmos and supermarkets, office furniture and hairdos glossily remade.

It's witty, smart and brilliantly played, plumbing the sub-aqueous depths of our psyches, our histories and desires.

This is Payne's most political film since Election and refreshingly eschews the gentle social realism of Sideways and Nebraska for something much more subversive. The pointillist normalcy of those films is used well as a context in which to embed the craziness of his Kaufmanesque high concept.

It's an offbeat narrative, and it demands patience, but it's so worth the wait in the final moments of the film, proving to be a graceful examination of love found and lost.

Inspirational and moving, Step is full of heart, with a kicking beat: highly recommended.

A little overlong and lacking the thematic clout to justify its knotty plot, Atomic Blonde is nevertheless an exhilarating, visceral actioner, more than making up for its flaws with a surfeit of verve and style.

Escalante is a master filmmaker when it comes to creating atmosphere.

There are the occasional moments when Bushwick lets on that it knows that this is all truly awful.

Logan Lucky is satisfying on the simplest of levels, but if you peel back the layers it becomes evermore rewarding.

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

In its determined avoidance of sensationalism, it finds itself stranded in an empty space so understated, it is genuinely difficult to understand what, if anything, it is saying.

Anderson's comic slasher doesn't quite earn its wings as a potential future classic, nevertheless it's very funny and another welcome indicator that antipodean genre cinema is where it's at right now.