Amongst the swearing, past gripes and resentments exhibited by wearying central players there is humour, compassion and a great deal more heart and soul than we have come to expect from the rote, by-the-numbers dialogue of Marvels past.

Effective in articulating how relationships work as a way of transferring and understanding the unspoken and unseen feelings that lay dormant within us all, Netzer's intelligent portrait of a ticking time-bomb relationship sadly lacks the warmth and tenderness required for it ever to ignite.

There's a measured, almost clinical precision to how On Body and Soul is shot that, while in keeping with Mária's great fragility and terrible need for affection, prevents the film from really delivering.

Félicité is an emotionally effective heart-tugger, thanks largely to Véro Tshanda Beya's dignified lead performance.

It's a curt, nasty and deftly acted chamber piece high on laughs and savagery about frustrated idealism and how little it takes to make society fall to pieces.

Sadly, Schroeder lacks the confidence required to elevate this average drama into something more substantial.

Unsurprisingly, Jackman is as perfect for Wolverine as he was when he first played the character 13 years ago. Convincing whether going berserk on a troublesome ninja or showing Logan's inner turmoil, he's a commanding presence throughout and, as you might expect, is the film's engine.

Using comedy to chase away the despair of modern life, The Other Side of Hope is a thoroughly satisfying and distinctively lovable film.

It's how the film handles grief and alienation which makes Marina's story so compelling.

Dean doubles as cinematographer and his ability to unobtrusively capture moments of village life is matched for an eye for the natural beauty the tribe lives amidst. But it's a beauty which never drowns the film. There's also room for jokes and gossip, nastiness and fun.

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.

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

An empathetic depiction of two marginalised ways of life; God's Own Country is a deeply felt romance that harnesses the primal relationship between people and place.

Capturing the agony and ecstasy of young love, Call Me by Your Name is a major addition to the queer cinema canon - a deeply felt movie that's bittersweet, tender and true.

Bold in ambition and delicate in execution, it will break your heart and then piece it back together.

A mood piece first and foremost, Abbasi takes the intense feelings of early adolescence, and watches how tragedy transforms them.

A low-key yet complex family drama, My Happy Family is a quietly devastating portrait of what it means to be a woman in a man's world.

An exquisitely rendered study of entitlement and millennial dissatisfaction.

An ornately mounted story marked with tints of antiquarianism, The Lost City of Z is perhaps Gray's most accomplished film to date.

Blending and bending genres to highlight the elusiveness of the truth, Green's avant-garde documentary presents the audience with a wealth of interviewees, each giving their own account of how the murder was reported.

Bright light and dazzling colour dominate, as befits the Santa Barbara setting, while every scene is packed with moments that are in turn engaging, amusing, poignant, awkward, heart-warming, heart-breaking and profound.

With its depth and power, Wilson's play is a blue-collar Death of a Salesman and the music of the dialogue, with Davis and Washington at the peak of their powers, makes the whole thing sing.

Covering depression, grief and pregnancy as body-horror, the end result is a palpably unusual mix of comedy, pathos and gruesome violence

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.

This is a sequel that advances on its predecessor in a way that's incredibly satisfying - and not only for the body count and beautifully constructed action scenes it delivers.

It's as if the writers have set out with the most basic plot imaginable, hoping to cover the cracks with distractions and colourful set pieces. It works, but the lack of depth and emotional heart is noticeable when the film hits some of its less than spectacular moments.

Given the alarming rise of far right xenophobia, a film that portrays this memorable defence against fascism and the rewriting of history, feels exceptionally timely. There are more than a few parallels to be drawn between the swagger and deviousness of Irving and another well known falsifier, President Trump.

There is something reassuring and enjoyable to the familiarity of such a joyous, uplifting and uproariously funny affair and it must be said that the vocal talents of those on show is quite remarkable

Stylistically it is an indisputable triumph.

A luscious, strangely enchanting watch and terrific fun for those who'll launch themselves into it.

Boyle has made an admirable effort that captures the melancholy of being right back to where you started from. But it's not what it used to be - or what it could have been.

It mostly holds together, but you'd have to hope that David Brent: Life on the Road represents the farewell tour.

My Father, Die's pummelling violence and existentialist leanings would be too absurd if set in County Kerry or County Mayo, but the doom-filled lyricism - its bloodied, weary soul - might best be described as Beckett with gunplay.

Its lasting resonance and wider humanitarian message is diluted by a second half that drags it down.

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

Starless Dreams is a fascinating and humane view of the marginalised and forgotten. The girls' voices rise as a startlingly powerful chorus, questioning, challenging and demanding we listen.

Though Anna and Otto's story is undoubtedly a fascinating example of the necessity of resistance and Perez is clearly a skilful director of actors, there's something anticlimactic about Alone in Berlin.

Fares' film doesn't ever quite hit the same high-octane levels as its petrol head subjects but it is nevertheless a very unusual and encouraging representation of social change, defiance and self-determination.

A chilling expose of state-sponsored cyber warfare and the enemy within.

Challenging, daring, provocative, disgusting - We are the Flesh is all those things and then some, but also superbly crafted and always visually compelling.

The Son of Joseph is nothing short of marvelous. A modernised tale of literal Biblical proportions that will make viewers reconsider what defines paternity, family, and their place in the world. But don't worry: that's a good thing.

Johnson is pushing the audience to see these images as a dialogue between herself and these subjects, both in the frame of her representation of them and their impact on her.

Molero's film is a challenging and truly contemporary work: a forceful, if imperfect, look at the shifting sands of digitally-mediated reality and the people balancing on its surface.

It's a film swimming in symbolism, transgressive eroticism and perplexing details that will infuriate some audiences but for others will add to its irresistible allure.

This is a punchy and promising debut from Pront.

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.

Szabolcs Hadju's It's Not the Time of My Life is an engrossing, poignant and often very funny study of marriage, family and child rearing.

Behemoth is a stunning and moving denunciation of the situation in Inner Mongolia, where the mining industry is permanently changing the landscape.

A minor miracle in and of itself, Edwards' Rogue One somehow delivers on almost all of its weighty pre-release promises whilst at the same time besting The Force Awakens for sheer spectacle and world-building.

If we allow ourselves - as Scorsese asks us - to place ourselves in the shoes of these priests, then we have a graceful film of stoic power, which wrestles with the very nature of faith.

Abattoir doesn't have a jaw-dropping...shock scene, but the ending does pack an emotional punch, of a type so few and far between in the annals of horror cinema.

[Miles Teller] does dogged, unerring determination very well and makes Younger's film an engaging rollercoaster ride.

Striking a balance between the dark and combative religious humour and its more saccharine elements proves difficult.

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.

The film itself is fairly conventional given the wildness of its subject matter and Jim Jarmusch's pedigree.

A United Kingdom is a solid, competently made and gorgeously photographed film, but its exploration of complex issues - race, gender, politics and affairs of state - feels rather safe throughout, their full impact and import somewhat dialled back.

Not only is the film a compellingly told tale of suspense and terror, but it's crafted with such precision and sense of timing that one can cry "Masterpiece!" without being shamefaced or wondering if a hyperbole-induced crime against all good sense has just been committed.

You don't have to like a piece of art to appreciate the artists vision. Terrence Malick has created a beautiful and ambitious meditation on memory, childhood and the nature of being.

Evolution more often chimes aesthetically with a European arthouse drama, but that is only until it voyages into more fantastical territory. Then this haunting and esoteric work manages to seduce and repulse in uncanny harmony.

Littered with keen observations about modern life and gentle moments of dark humour, this tale of how we live now masks a tender exploration of the human body as the last refuge in a world of binary oppression.

A great deal of love, intelligence and effort have gone into crafting a more mature rendering of the Wizarding World, where pertinent themes of segregation, racism, international politics bubble in the narrative cauldron.

A unique and beautiful boxing movie.

A handsomely crafted, yet overacted revenge tale with a broken moral compass, Prisoners fails to build upon its taut atmosphere of suspense with anything of particular social value.

Zootropolis is a real delight - an entertaining and endlessly inventive comedy and something with more insight than anyone could have anticipated.

Biller is an eccentric talent - always a plus in the world of film - and The Love Witch is a triumph of form and style.

Nair gets the very finest from her cast and although like Phiona we can see a number of moves ahead, the director's graceful, heartfelt retelling of this miraculous story makes Queen of Katwe a wondrously uplifting film.

There's something deeply unsettling about the unstoppable, magma-like flow of Werner Herzog's Into the Inferno.

For Herzog it is people that matter and he's just as fascinated by Elon Musk's gazing at the stars as those battering their keyboards or avoiding them altogether.

We can all look forward to Hollywood completely dropping the ball with its inevitable remake, but until then, Train to Busan is the year's best genre offering by a zombie mile.

The Ivory Game depicts humankind both at its deplorable worst and at its best. Its burning images will sear through conscience and consciousness but there is faint hope in the lasting hoof-print they leave.

Louis Black and Karen Bernstein pay warm tribute to the filmmaker in what is a fitting ode to independent spirit more than a penetrating portrait.

This is a timely and necessary reminder of Trump's practices, but like Michael Moore's Michael Moore in Trumpland, this seems like another missed opportunity, a wry exasperated sigh, when we desperately need some full on rage.

With 12 Years a Slave, McQueen has not only created his finest work to date, but also a potential modern masterpiece.

Once beyond the babble of the Mindfulness merchants, the latter half of the documentary, however, is far more interesting and compelling as Shen has his experts round on the noise pollution that so disrupts our lives.

Beneath the veneer of fake tan, rippling muscles and feigned ecstasy lies a striking amount of heart, soul and sincerity of emotion.

While it hardly pushes the envelope in terms of developing Marvel's homogenous narrative conveyor-belt, it does do so in other areas, suggesting that the MCU can see beyond the confines of its first two phases.

Rarely has China's explosive economic growth been captured with such grace and with such a heavy heart.

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.

Greene seeks a deeper truth amidst the fragments of arch drama and investigatory reportage; artifice and reality bleed into one another with ease, the transitions smoothed by Sean Price Williams' photography.

Like The Da Vinci Code and Angels & Demons before it, Inferno stumbles into the same pitfalls of convoluted plotting, kindergarten art history and conspiracy theories of the daytime-slot-on-the-Discovery-Channel sort.

Hosting's film is not for everyone; it is unforgiving and it is relentless. But for those of a certain disposition, The Greasy Strangler offers a great deal of distressing pleasure.

Under the Shadow is not only perfectly paced, the storytelling and plotting is emotionally gripping. The director also uses setting and location, composition and framing like a master of horror.

The Girl on the Train engages more than it rivets and brings goosebumps to skin more than chilling to the bone.

For the most part Swiss Army Man is a visually unique gas and only feels bloated when it tries to hitch its wayward originality to some sort of real world application.

Southside with You doesn't leave a lasting impact because it plays all elements altogether too safe.

The two stars stay on their game but their relationship is largely sidetracked in favour of fending off ghouls. While the heart rate may increase the creepiness dissipates, though The Autopsy of Jane Doe remains good genre fun - if little more.

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.

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.

Zlotowski's Grand Central is a fascinating film on an urgent and seldom-explored situation.

The Untamed is an examination of the strange otherworldly nature of desire, the way sex is often out of joint with our desires and expectations, even with our identities.

Few of Planetarium's many strands are neatly tied together. There's an ambition to almost every shot as Zlotowski creates a rarified version of nighttime Paris.

This is the fourth instalment in the Guest mockumentary 'canon' and it's evidence that the format has now solidified into a template that needs refreshing, as much gentle enjoyment as it might bring.

Diaz's From What Is Before is an enthralling, thought-provoking, elegant and tragic wonder.

Its specific frame of reference sees it build to a bleak and powerful conclusion, if one devoid of much hope.

It is Hall for which this film will be sought out and remembered, and she elicits such a great deal of empathy as to make the inevitable climax all the more gut-wrenching.

Ozon's Frantz is, sadly, an underwhelming tale of a European union that didn't quite make it, its chocolate box sheen belying the emptiness at its heart.

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.

31 is a horror show delivered in hammer blows, or 'Whitechapel-style'. You either dig it or you don't.