The superb editing of news footage, the home video recording of the King beating and a dizzying amount of imagery from the heart of darkness during the riots throws us into the unfolding disturbances with minute-by-minute immediacy.

What Keeps You Alive is a gorgeous rural revenge featuring two strong lead performances, a blood-stained, thicketed idyll, and some moments of dark humour – or cathartic victory – depending on how you view your current or past relationships.

With Avengers: Age of Ultron, Whedon doesn't merely hit it out of the park, he Hulk-smashes it.

Captain America is simply awful. It is another hour and a half of prologue to the film people are apparently waiting for - The Avengers.

Told with tenderness and honesty, Cicada is a treatment of trauma that does not judge or preach or take sides, but, in building to its breathless crescendo, goes to show just how much courage it takes to confront the past in order to look to the future.

As a historical account it is unvarnished without feeling dry or academic, and as a coded satire of the contemporary British political climate it is urgent and deeply impassioned.

Rocky has always lived and died on its direct, unsubtle sincerity. It’s in these heartfelt moments where Creed II flies, underpinning its thoughtful climax and one of the series’ most surprisingly moving endings.

Aside from its unremarkable presentation, Ben Is Back’s major hurdle, and the one that it never manages to clear, is that it’s yet another story of a rich, white young man wasting his future.

Throughout, Solondz never allows a situation to get too serious. Something clownish or ludicrous is always peeking round the corner. At times, as with the very finale of the film, this works brilliantly: generating something darkly hilarious and cutely uncomfortable.

An earnest, forensic examination into the slaying of the Israeli Prime Minister.

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.

As a neo-noir Holy Spider offers a tightly-woven procedural crime thriller, bolstered by a superb central performance from Amir-Ebrahimi and gorgeous, lurid aesthetics. A steadier hand marshalling its themes and a more disciplined third act might have tipped Abbasi’s third feature into being something truly special: as it stands we are left a very solid, smart and satisfying thriller.

For the most part, Dinosaur 13 is highly absorbing - some of the decisions that come against Larson are truly shocking - but it does lack in places as a piece of documentary journalism.

Crimson Peak is locked in by a somnambulist, formulaic vibe and comes off as contented to go through Gothic 101 motions without recourse to reinvention or refreshing vigour.

Amini has proven his narrative acumen before and will undoubtedly do so again, but his inaugural stint behind the camera offers only fleeting glimpses of Highsmith's seductive, satirical prose that old hands such as Clément, Hitchcock and Minghella have so notably put to good use.

The Great Museum is a beautiful love letter to obsession and eccentricity, the love is given and received in equal measure. This, at its nature is what art should do, and what cinema strives for and rarely achieves, with this poetic discourse about the difficult question of what to do with the art of robber barons in relation towards a finality that befits such a collection.

There are moments of real wonder and delight and Quentin Blake's original illustrations are occasionally glimpsed in the set ups. This isn't an epic of visual wizardry and there's zero irony or clever wit. Rather, Spielberg's latest is an old-fashioned children's tale told simply and with plenty of heart.

The Danish Girl is as handsome yet disappointingly flat as a painting on a chocolate box. It should certainly be applauded for bringing to light an unsung hero of the transgenderism, but in its unremitting tastefulness and sentimentality - even a beating has beautiful setting and a lovely bit of blood - it ultimately left this reviewer as cold as a dip in a Danish bog.

A neat little thriller which unfortunately never achieves plausibility.

Wedding Doll may be a small film, but it's deftly executed and built on two remarkable leading performances.

If you can forgive the cardboard villains and suspicious editing, there is plenty here to hold your interest.

In drawing on a melange of influences, Ho’s film succeeds in using fractured time as way of puzzling together the essential drives that move a city and its inhabitants.

There are glimmers of a more complex, empathetic film here: the main cast do fine work with what they’ve got and the film’s apparent detachment from its characters mirrors the empty indifference that often characterises depression. But any potential for complexity is undone by the film’s tacky reveals, mawkish speechifying and its often spiteful approach to its own characters.

Though the farce is occasionally funny, it's as bloated and windy as its comedy policeman Inspector Machin.

Short but sweet, Advanced Style goes some way towards reclaiming high fashion for all ages and backgrounds - not just the young, privileged and white.

This could be seen as a smug, empty exercise in satirical excoriation – and as a smug, empty exercise in satirical excoriation, it’d be one of the best – but there is a genuine heart to the film, as well as intellect. Cheadle, Gerwig and Driver are all superb, while Sam Nivola and Raffey Cassidy give their smart-mouth, role reversal kids an impossible likeability.

Whilst King of New York isn’t, as many have claimed, Ferrara’s masterpiece, and while it may seem muddled and even unspectacular when viewed as part of the genre, it leaves a vinegary taste in one’s mouth that is both brilliant and unpleasant.

Just as we feel that we have grasped the truth behind the image, it vanishes into thin air: The Real Charlie Chaplin is a Sisyphean task of the directors’ own making.