The creatively gory fighting and amusing — if shallow — characters just about compensate for the paper-thin story. But at its best, it’s a lot of dumb fun. 

A sequel that serves its characters with a fresh story instead of relying solely on the tropes of its predecessor. This high-fashion tale could have benefited from higher stakes, but Streep and company remain as in vogue as ever.

It is a committed ensemble that sells this flock’s love for their shepherd, and while the tale often treads on familiar ground, it is in the bond between these animals and their owner that the film finds its woolly heart.

Cox evidently harbours a profound love for his homeland, and it’s nice to see Alan Cumming and Shirley Henderson speaking in their native Scottish accents for a change. But while it may inspire you to book a Highland holiday, there’s little else to take away from such a soppy passion project.

Hugely impressive musical and dance performances from the two young men playing Michael Jackson cannot shake off the uncomfortable fact that there is an entire other side to the pop star’s story which is entirely conspicuous by its absence here.

A daring reimagining of an oft-told story, Kiss Of The Spider Woman features some sensational musical moments that nicely hark back to classic Hollywood, but struggles to reconcile two very different worlds.

More shallow than The Shallows, and lacking the depth of even Deep Blue Sea, this has chuckle-worthy moments but will be forgotten roughly 47 metres down in the lower-echelons of shark cinema.

Parts of Outcome work a treat (see: Martin Scorsese). Shame, then, that long stretches give in to blunt parody, leaving the feeling there’s a much better movie in here somewhere.

Domestic chills, body horror, paranormal scares and gore-drenched action combine in a very distinct but rather uneven — and at times contentious — take on a classic monster icon.

Charming performances from Bailey and Page can’t make up for the crushing levels of cringe. More an underwhelming pasta ready-meal than a fine-dining experience.

It’s thinner than the paper it’s written on, and full of questionable choices — but in a switch-your-brain-off kind of way, this will adequately activate your heist glands. Light the fuze!

The moments of fan service might keep the hardcore happy, but for everyone else over the age of five it’s just a succession of loud, bright things happening without any real point.

Blood-drenched and gore-splattered, anchored by a hard-as-nails performance by Beetz, this is a thinly plotted but immensely fun horrorfest. Best watched with a strong stomach.

A bitter howl at the injustice of the modern world, intellectualised through one of literature’s shrewdest figures. Powerful and eye-opening, but Orwell himself might have preferred a less partisan approach.

It’s nonsense — but at the very least, well-meaning nonsense.

Its magical denizens too often look and feel like out-of-season pantomime characters, but there’s just enough heart and humour to make this enchanting.

It’s easy on the eye, and indeed the brain, but this is nowhere near as sharply written or plotted as it should be to bring these characters to life.

Van Sant’s previous historical fictions have been more incisive, but this is a tense crime thriller, with a solid new addition to Bill Skarsgård’s rogues’ gallery of scumbags.

Round two’s double-or-nothing approach means there are fewer surprises this time around. Yet as Weaving’s endlessly watchable bride gets even bloodier, it’s hard not to crack a smile at the relentless fun.

With some genuinely shocking moments, this is a fascinating, frightening —  if frustrating — account of masculinity in crisis.  

WALL•E director Andrew Stanton weaves together three different stories across three different eras of human history. The result is a streaming epic as painfully sappy as it is structurally ambitious.

Mamoru Hosoda’s continuing experiments with animation are passable enough. But it’s not enough to uplift this loose adaptation of a literary classic with its rather clumsy thesis on cycles of violence. 

This game and glitzy American redo of a British comedy great contains some fun and thrills but never quite explodes into brilliance. One to consider rather than run to.

Parochial pub-based piffle — like a pint that’s gone a bit flat. But you can’t doubt its sincerity.

A brainless, bombastic, bomb-tastic action romp, this is absurd on almost every level, and far more fun than it has any right to be.

With its edgy style intact, The Immortal Man never takes its eye off the Peaky faithful. But keeping the fans happy is a double-edged sword, as it can’t help but just feel like an extra-long episode rather than a standalone cinematic experience.

Fans of Maggie Gyllenhaal will be disappointed; fans of Mary Shelley will be disappointed; fans of unhinged cinema will be morbidly intrigued.

It’s no Scream. Or, indeed, The Babadook. But Kevin Williamson’s meta-slasher has solid emotional underpinning and a handful of ace scenes. And Sidney-f*cking-Prescott.