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.

Whilst the tone is off, and the talented cast wasted, Exodus is, at times highly entertaining, albeit unintentionally.

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

The problem is that Apocalypse's highlights feel like moments of serenity amidst two-and-a-half-hours of lumbering, inconsequential chaos.

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.

Triple 9 becomes a victim of its own inane script. All the usual cop tropes are there - and that's part of the problem. Rarely does screenwriter Matt Cook throw anything at the page that hasn't been done better elsewhere.

The trajectory of success and excess followed by last act redemption is familiar to the point of parody, and the ploys with time come over as gimmicky attempt to inject an element of surprise into the otherwise predictable narrative.

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.

Your appreciation or otherwise of the film is going to be greatly influenced by whether or not you’ve seen the original, and as such Final Cut doesn’t really elbow its way to the front. However, if you can stand the slight whiff of decomposition then this deconstruction is fun and clever.

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.

Even Lavant's brief cameo as a roving theologist towards the finale can't spark the disappointingly bland Michael Kohlhaas into life - surely the most damning indictment of all.

The fact of the matter is that Refn has now become so predictably shocking that the truly shocking thing for him to do would be to make a film without attempting to shock.

Some actors can play anything, but asking super-posh and glamourous Seydoux to play dirt poor is an ask too far.

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

Led by a trio of tremendous performances from its female leads, Wright, front and centre as Jamie, is the stand-out.

Actor Daniel Brühl makes his directorial debut with this delightfully taut, blackly comic satire.

Though an entertaining-enough stab at a new kind of orgiastic extravaganza, Noé's Love is so mired in its own hang-ups and conservative gender views that it never gets past the first stroke.

Whishaw is utterly compelling and committed to this performance, and we watch the slow-motion car crash unfurl with mouths often agape, but Surge needs more depth to really leave a lasting mark.

There is no soul, and no heart to the story. A good sci-fi is never merely about the effects, it's about the plot, character and thoughts they bring to life, all of which Valerian lacks in abundance.

Slattery does at times struggle to bring anything new to the impoverished blue-collar, working-class trope. Relying heavily on several top-drawer character actors to lift his occasionally flat, even nihilistic story of love and death amidst urban decay, it's Hoffman and Jenkins that deserve the largest proportion of praise, while other characters quickly fall to the wayside of our interest.

The Man Who Killed Hitler and Then the Bigfoot is a thoroughly enjoyable and sneakily touching oddity which is entirely worthy of a big screen outing.

The dénouement when it comes doubles down on the madness and 11 Minutes is never boring, but neither is it quite as revolutionary as it thinks it is.

Woman in Gold is ultimately a worthy endeavour even when it is not entirely successful.

With some seriously fine performances and a simple but effective visual style that helps establish the film as a believable period piece, O'Connor's film is a solid adaptation of Michael Morpurgo's novel.

The comedy is never hearty enough to be truly enjoyable, only managing a chain reaction of titters at best.

Araki does manage to give Kasischke's ending a subversive little twist, but the scenario has spawned numerous complex questions and while they may be given traction throughout, the rushed and forced conclusion leaves one simultaneously nonchalant and conflicted, much like Kat.

With Yves Saint Laurent, Lespert has played it safe but stylish, and pulls it off thanks to some canny casting choices and a refreshing focus on mainstream appeal.

An uneven blend of melodrama and the horrors of civil war, it should be anchored by strong leads but instead remains listless and adrift.