Sadly, In Secret's script is so loaded with dud lines that any of the more successful elements are quickly erased from memory.

It's been some time since a drama has tackled the moral complexities of revenge quite so brutally - and so well - with each character offering a different perspective on China's crippling corruption and ethical decay that's depressingly common, yet rarely reported.

The film feels like yet another product of the recent studio appropriation of mumblecore as a commodity, ultimately removing any semblance of individualism and feeling like just another product off the factory conveyor belt.

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.

Though not without merit, Cold In July finds Mickle happily stalled in front of the drive-in cinema screens of his youth. Let's just hope he can find the exit.

Shock and awe are both present - as is Escalante's intense style - but Heli lacks the ideas or formal dexterity to constitute a state of the nation address in any but the most cursory of ways.

The Punk Singer is a rewarding and positive experience. Anderson delivers a fascinating account of the grunge era and an influential story of a role model who has the guts and spunk to hopefully inspire a whole new generation of Riot Grrls and Boys.

Although a couple of narrative twists late on threaten to drum us into melodrama, Chazelle never misses a beat and the film builds to a cathartic crescendo.

By interchanging bawdy gaiety and a ponderous attitude to emphasise the film's spiritual message, Calvary feels extremely disjointed, struggling to balance its dualistic tone on top of its oversized ensemble cast.

Impressive for the most part without being awe-inspiring, the film's two timelines converge in a much more satisfying and thrilling ways towards the end, where the emotional stakes are considerably upped.

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

The human drama isn't always as compelling as it wants to be, but at its best Godzilla is a hugely entertaining blockbuster that starts strongly and finishes with a mighty roar. The king of the monsters has returned, and it appears he's here to stay.

The fraternity versus parents premise is a decidedly simple one, but the surprising amount of depth to the characters helps mine it for all its worth.

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

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.

A nefarious misadventure that's technical prowess and heartbreaking lead performance belies its economical pedigree, Saulnier's farcical tale is punctuated with irregular scenes of dark, bumbling humour whilst a wanton disregard for the bellicose testosterone of similar tales successfully constructs a tense and naturally opaque mood that broods with the clammy tension of an impending storm.

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.

Throughout, each of Ilo Ilo's performers give wonderfully naturalistic turns, providing the entire film with a heartening authenticity.

Featuring two outstanding lead performances from bright young talents Lika Babluani and Mariam Bokeria, Ekvtimishvili and Groß immerse their audience in the detritus of a country in tatters, whilst at the same time delicately nurturing two intertwining female maturation tales - with all that entails.

Paths of Glory undoubtedly succeeds in both foreshadowing the bravura auteurism that was to come as well as lampooning the abhorrent bureaucracy that destroyed the lives of so many brave young men in Europe's trenches.

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

Binoche's potent performance [cuts] to the quick of the struggle to balance a passion for work with a commitment to family.

It soon becomes difficult to dismiss the suspicion that Goldthwait had set out to make a comic horror but forgot to insert any laughs.

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.

It's in Wasikowska's confident performance alone that it's more gratifying to acknowledge any motives. The Australian actress appears to come of age in by far her most assured role, every bit believable as a tough but introverted city girl making her way in her country's Outback

While the core concepts of Transcendence and the questions they pose are inherently interesting, the manner in which the themes are explored feels extremely superficial.

Locke never shies away from from thrusting 21st concepts of masculinity into the full glare of the high beams, exposing its morally complex protagonist at his most vulnerable before triumphantly rebuilding him from the foundations upwards. Don't miss it.

Rio 2's Amazon adventure finds its wings clipped by more tired and unnecessary subplots than you can shake a feather at.