Spall and Redgrave are both magnificent, rising above the material in a way only talented actors can. One wonders what they could have done with more interesting and passionate material.

Directed by Sean Anders, the film goes out of its way to contrive its central masculinity crises in ways that quickly settle for lame, lowest common denominator jokes.

This is the kind of oddball midnight movie that could easily gain a cult following and there are delights to be had in the midst.

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.”

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.

There will be those for whom Angel of Death provides precisely what they are after, but a couple of brief flashes of quality aren't capable of making the film anything close to creepy enough.

Pompeii make tick all the necessary movie checkboxes, but its execution is unoriginal and uninspired.

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.

Arnie completists will enjoy seeing the Austrian Oak in good form, but as a whodunit thriller Sabotage is found severely wanting.

The only thing Joffe's Before I Go to Sleep has going in its favour is that it's too brief to really lull you into slumber - despite its best efforts,

Horrible Bosses 2 is by no means an atrocity, but it's tired and unexceptional, which is perhaps worse.

Maniac Cop deserves to be re-evaluated as a quintessential 80s B-movie – low on brains but high on charm – and lucky viewers should keep an eye out for cameos from The Evil Dead (1981) director Sam Raimi and the Raging Bull himself, Mr. Jake LaMotta.

Despite its claims to zaniness and colouring outside the lines, probably the most damning indictment of the silly Suicide Squad is that it's unrelentingly bland.

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

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.

Double Impact is a perfectly fine film, and is easily one of the best to come out of Van Damme’s back catalogue. If you want a film to have whilst drinking some ‘manly’ beers with ‘manly’ friends, then you could do much worse than .

Ultimately, though it hints at moments of wit, Cuck never feels serious enough to be a convincing character study and not garish enough to head into genre territory. Ultimately, this sordid tale feels both real and inconsequential.

Budgetary restrictions offer a narrow visual scope which isn’t helped by the plodding, stagy pace (maddeningly slow at times).

It's essentially a collection of shoddily edited action sequences, underpinned by a monotonous narrative that has no purpose, let alone moral heart to reward viewers' waning attention.

Sculpture is the art of turning lifeless stone into something that looks alive, flesh, living bodies and movement. Jacques Doillon's Rodin, in competition at Cannes, does precisely the opposite, turning living beings - passionate artists, no less - into lumps of lifeless clay.

With no fun to be had, The Gunman also lacks essential thrills. If Sean Penn is winging for an action-hero renaissance like Neeson's, he'll be in need of material a lot more compelling than this.

It's hardly original nor necessary, but it's a fun and absorbing escapade on the Seven Seas.

Terminator Genisys' ambition overrides sense and depth in the pursuit of a new direction, and then unwittingly proves how little life there is left in this franchise.

It is dull, cynical and utterly mirthless.

Not great, not hilarious, but not terrible or awful either.

Were it not for these overwrought provocations The Golden Glove could have been Akin’s most accomplished work in years. Aesthetically speaking it remains a marvel.

In an almost impressive display of ineptitude, Dominion combines the very worst vices of its predecessors in addition to a few new ones for good measure. As well as non-existent characterisation or thematic coherence, quaint concepts like comprehensible scene geography and narrative tension have all but disappeared.

Like most of Howard’s films, Hillbilly Elegy is perfectly watchable, unchallenging and largely forgettable awards fodder.