For fans of samurai cinema, 13 Assassins ranks right up there with Yôji Yamada's The Twilight Samurai (2002) and Takeshi Kitano's The Blind Swordsman: Zatoichi (2003) as one of the finer additions to the sub-genre in recent years.

Though it is clearly a work of great empathy and respect, Bobby Sands: 66 Days takes pains to offer alternative perspectives and as such makes for a richly textured and complex portrait of man, myth and movement.

Up for Love lacks tact and substance but its leads make it a watchable, albeit bite-size, jaunt.

Being 17's great strength is the two utterly engrossing performances given by its leads and their exhilarating chemistry is conveyed with equal sensitivity during their tussles, as it is in every small glance and gesture.

This is a rich portrait of not only Mapplethorpe, but also the history of the New York art world in the latter half of the 20th century.

Respect and admiration for her work and carefree nature is in plentiful supply but this is not an exclusively glowing retrospective.

It's a little messy, like life, but it's also beautiful to experience.

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.

Displaying an exemplary commitment to knuckle-biting tension, director Serra has made a riveting B-movie.

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.

There is much that is inexplicable and remote about Sun Choke, but those should not be read as immediate negatives, but held up as virtues. Cinema too often gives the viewer everything on a plate and then spoon feds us with details until 'we get it'.

The Wakhan Front's script is finely-balanced, allowing the possibly supernatural to slowly impinge without resorting to genre clichés.

The resulting film is an exemplar of fine balance, managing to be both a humane character study and issue-driven polemic, looking at the ongoing personal and social repercussions and contextualising the events.

The political commentary feels far more explicitly pointed and widely integral than in previous incarnations which adds a bold new dynamic where perhaps the same re-inventive verve is lacking in the film's formulaic story. Fortunately, Greengrass and Damon are so in command of this material it's rarely too much of a concern. Even when little of substance seems to be happening, the narrative feels propulsive.

The film doesn't simply work, it trumps expectation and lingers long in the mind.

If you go out into the furthest reaches of Star Trek's filmography today, you're in for an unsettling discovery: the final frontier looks oddly familiar. It's brightly coloured eye-bait, Jim, exactly as we know it - outpacing your visual field in an attempt to convince you that something exciting is going on.

The attempt to make an intimate, multi-stranded story out of this royal episode is appreciated, especially given its subplots which effectively compare with Kristina's own struggle between independence and duty, but the gripping central performances lack a proper foundation.

The Violators bravely paints a vicious circle without pulling any punches and shows real promise in a new female British filmmaker.

Shim directs well, but he lacks the verve for this to sail through on its visuals and although the denouement returns to the unconventional (discounting the unnecessary coda), the climax reduces the impact of what was otherwise an enthralling voyage.

Lacks both the iconic heft of its predecessor's imagery as well as any sense of character development.

Notes on Blindness raises fascinating questions about our reliance on visual memory aids and the amount to which we truly experience the world around us.

Maggie's Plan is over-educated satirical skewering at its finest - to be enjoyed at leisure, between symposia perhaps, or other perambulatory Manhattan-style discussions of crypto-narratives in the modern family unit.

There is meaning beneath the madness, but Men & Chicken is best recommended to those who are prepared to sit through the deeply sinister absurdity.

Despite a promising concept and strong production values, Summertime's poor execution makes it one to avoid.

Riccobono neither condemns nor sympathises, maintaining a commendable neutrality, as his subjects frank testimony paves the way to jail cells.

Russell is the magnetic epicentre of a much broader contemplation on the nature of being, creation and self-truth at a time of peace and love.

The pacing is methodical but breakthroughs in the case and anxious moments where all is feared lost generate real tension.

Hooligan Sparrow is a chilling reminder of the extent of state repression and corruption in China.