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

Neither player wins the audience's allegiance during the oft-strained game of seduction - much less convinces as a human being.

It's a muted affair all in all; the script thin and relatively drama-free, which proves irritating considering the assured performances and flashes of brilliance that do flair up.

Red Joan is unlikely to appeal to younger audiences and many may find the wartime plot, setting and slow-paced romance old-fashioned, but it will win fans because there is much to admire: The solid acting, Lindsay Shapero’s deft screen adaptation, Zac Nicholson’s evocative cinematography, accompanied by George Fenton’s original score.

It may be stuck in the past, with its hoary clichés about the call girl with the heart of gold and the incurable romantic, but the whole thing fizzes with such joie de vivre that the anachronisms only add to its overwhelming charm.

A rollercoaster ride of tongue-in-cheek cliché, there's plenty of fun to be had with this cheekily reverential horror; yet, a dependence on the sexualisation of the female form anchors the film firmly within 'knowing' horror misogyny.

Postman Pat: The Movie is a disappointment; a modern-day reinvention of a traditional, much-loved classic that differs so far from its comfort zone that it'll have a difficult time winning audiences, let alone maintaining there attention.

Like much of his recent scripted work, it's a mannered affair that's vague and clumsy.

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.

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

A super sweet, affecting comedy with a magical premise and a terrific central performance from Larson herself.

Grimsby fails in its satirical mission due to a hodgepodge of generic action and ill-advised comedy.

Rape scene aside, Nowhere is stunningly beautiful to watch. There’s not one frame that hasn’t been intricately stylised. Araki brings his trilogy to a head in a bundle of celluloid confusion that encapsulates nihilistic teenage mentality and delivers an expressionistic banquet for your eyes to devour (and your brain to decipher). It’s a wild, enjoyable teenage riot.

Hotel Transylvania 2, much like its predecessor, never aims too high, so the fact that it comes as such a pleasant surprise makes it all the more entertaining.

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.

When you're pining for Bill Paxton and the relative emotional realism of Twister, you know you're in trouble.

Everything looks incredible, but the players are all just ciphers for ideas that Snyder lacks the wherewithal to execute.

San Andreas' whirlwind of action and devotion to the disaster movie playbook will satisfy those looking for a loud, effects-filled ride. Those inspecting it any closer will find a cookie cutter studio blockbuster which stretches disbelief to its limits.

A grandiose title which suggests some kind of a smutty coming-of-age epic, but in reality only manages to deliver the grubby goods sporadically.

A drab and airless affair, it effectively ignores the substantial political commentaries inherent in its story, and fails to land the emotional punches of the one it's intent on telling.

Doremus doesn't appear to take the world he has created at all seriously. The rules shift and bend, are observed - or aren't - according to the exigency of the narrative, which ultimately renders the whole exercise fundamentally unconvincing and fatally irksome.

The Girl in the Spider’s Web demonstrates how uncertainty is a detriment, just as it proves Alvarez will always be a stylist worth watching.

Vita and Virginia is a remarkably chaste and safe film given its wealthy subject matter.

While not entirely successful, the film’s sense of finality gives the main players space to grow, unhampered by the usual carousel of upcoming sequels and spin-offs.

Despite its myriad issues, Glass is often a hoot to watch – particularly once Elijah comes out of his self-induced fugue to wreak havoc on the facility, with Jackson hamming it up with infectious relish, bouncing off the gurning McAvoy.

In an age where many horror franchises attempt to adhere as close to the original film’s formula as possible, Hooper’s The Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2 is a fun reminder of a time when makers were able to rewrite their own rules and go for broke. This was never going to top what had gone before, and by acknowledging that, the filmmakers have crafted a wonderfully demented alternative in its place.

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.

A dry and surprisingly dull film, it is a comedy which doesn't induce a single laugh and a drama that doesn't engage emotionally or pull on the heartstrings at all.