An improvement on Murder On The Orient Express, with the increased focus on Branagh’s Poirot (even with its strange moustache obsession) welcome enough to distract from the problems with some of its ensemble and its too-obvious reliance on VFX.

Belle is an exhilarating transformation of a classic tale, updating a story of alienation into something deeply resonant with our digital way of life. Though it misses a couple of notes in its final act, it’s an exhilarating sensory experience, with great emotional depths.

Joanna Hogg delivers an object lesson in how to deliver a follow-up: deeper, funnier, more imaginative than its predecessor, The Souvenir Part II is a filmmaker working at the peak of her powers.

Moonfall is precisely what you’d expect a film called Moonfall to be: deeply, defiantly, sometimes exasperatingly daft. It’s Roland Emmerich on apocalypse-autopilot.

Jackass Forever is a hilarious, even genuinely touching reunion of America’s most vulgar performance artists. It doesn’t reinvent the wheel for the series or definitively say goodbye to it, nor does it need to — it’s simply enough to remember that some things never get old.

It's an impressive performance from Chastain and a fascinating subject, but the film doesn’t delve deep enough into Bakker’s inner life.

Far from the best of Penn’s directing work but also not the worst (The Last Face is unlikely to lose that dubious crown). Dylan emerges the most triumphant Penn from a largely boring drama.

A loose, hurried ending can’t quite live up to the effective sense of dread created in the first two acts, but Amulet is still a fascinating, nightmarish debut from Garai.

The marriage of abstract existential themes, immersive, tactile images and dual timelines is always impressive but only occasionally moving.

There’s no questioning the high-octane energy of Garth Jennings’ star-studded ensemble, but the cacophony grows a little tiresome. The show can go on, but that doesn’t mean it must.

Almodóvar juggles comedy and drama to terrifically entertaining ends, aided by a tip-top Penélope Cruz. It’s hard to think of a more exciting actor-director partnership working today.

It may be a tough watch, but, boasting a quartet of excellent performances, Fran Kranz’s directorial debut is a technically adept, emotionally exhausting yet deeply cathartic film that couldn’t be more timely.

Belfast is exactly the kind of film that wins an audience award at a festival — highly entertaining and beautifully done without ever being innovative or challenging, finding the universal in the specific, the upbeat in dire circumstances. Slight but winning.

A Journal For Jordan is probably better suited to the page than the screen. Despite winning chemistry from Michael 
B. Jordan and Chanté Adams, Denzel Washington’s film etches a romance that rarely delivers substance or surprises.

A rare del Toro film that’s not an outright spook show, Nightmare Alley isn’t quite the filmmaker’s best — but it’s not far off, boasting an enveloping atmosphere, compelling characters, and gorgeous filmmaking.

An immersive and impassioned documentary from one of Britain’s most formidable filmmakers, which may be singular in its perspective but is as powerful to watch as it is painful.

Designed and deserving to be seen big and loud, Memoria is a hypnotic, unquantifiable, occasionally inpenetrable sonic odyssey from a unique cinematic voice.

For the most part, this is a ‘re-quel’ as fast, funny and ferocious as a Scream movie should be. In an era of elevated horror, it’s a gloriously gory basement party.

Moving and atmospheric, this quest tale is among the best of its kind.

A fast-paced and hectic kitchen thriller that, though it tries to spin a few too many plates, pulls you deep into a fascinating, detailed world most of us know little about.

An enjoyable World War II spy flick, Munich: The Edge Of War scores with strong performances and filmmaking craft, but is let down by a lack of dramatic heft. A Father’s Day watch in waiting.

The chases, fights and fun bits of spy craft are brightly and pacily shot, but the 'twists' are barely surprising. These women, and these characters, deserve more.

Too often The Electrical Life Of Louis Wain favours eccentricity over actual insight. But even when the tones jar, Cumberbatch’s vulnerable, layered performance always rings true.

There’s palpable dread throughout this stagey but nevertheless evocative whirlwind of dysfunction. It’s a gripping, appropriately stifling experience, and the feelings — the fear, the disappointment, the unhappiness — hit home.

Looser and funnier than his recent efforts, sharper and more formally assured than his earliest films, this is Paul Thomas Anderson operating at full capacity. A master at work.

Though a little messy and increasingly absurd in places, Titane is a brash body horror with intense central performances, certain to leave you wide-eyed and slack-jawed at such a risky cinematic endeavour.

Inevitably, there is a tacked-on quality here, yet Cousins’ flair for providing visual pleasure means that, like that first champagne cocktail of the night, The Next Generation bubbles with sparkling uplift.

Resurrections suffers from an identity crisis, going from being supremely fun and knowing to weirdly pedestrian. It’s a slippery mish-mash— entertaining in big bursts but ultimately a little hollow.

A monumentally successful Spider-instalment which pulls off a tricky and ambitious narrative trick with all the grace of a balcony-top backflip. At the risk of getting cheesy, it won't just make you cheer, it'll make you want to hug your friends, too.

Exceptional near-future production design and a strong dual performance from Mahershala Ali as a man and his clone fuel Benjamin Cleary’s impressive, thoughtful sci-fi debut.

What could have been little more than an acting showcase for a reliable ensemble fully sings: a sophisticated, seductive, slightly unwieldy and often very sad study of the instability and upsets of motherhood.

What The Tender Bar lacks in dramatic heft and originality, it makes up for in warmth, geniality and a clutch of great performances — chiefly Ben Affleck, who turns a stock uncle character into a memorable mentor.

Vaughn gets a lot of points for imagination, but then quite a lot taken away for not knowing when to stop. A blast at times, The King’s Man could have sacrificed a fair chunk of plot for a bit more comedy.

Perhaps the most ironic title of 2021, Hope isn’t filmmaking to set the pulses racing. Instead it’s a quiet, nuanced study of how a couple who have drifted apart deal with the direst of circumstances, perfectly played by Andrea Bræin Hovig and Stellan Skarsgård.

Guy Ritchie delivers a nice surprise: an LA neo-noir with high-voltage action and an ice-cube-cool Statham. If it gets a bit tangled up in its time-hopping reveals, it’s largely 
an enjoyable, rattlesnake-mean thriller.

A sort of kiddie creature-feature with a big red heart, Clifford offers solid family fare with moments of throwback charm. Not quite a 12/10 on the WeRateDogs scale, but still a good boy.

Centred by a committed, affecting performance by Noomi Rapace, Lamb gets over its longueurs and missteps with interesting ideas, filmmaking craft and a unique tone of voice. Also includes some of the best animal acting of the year.

Don’t Look Up takes the pulse of contemporary life and finds it crazy, scary and, most of all, funny. It doesn’t all land but enough does to make it a sharp, bold, star-studded treat.

The things Sorkin is criticised for — grand speeches, an earnest streak — are the things that make his work sing when the context is right. The drama of this legendary TV couple gives him plenty of material to do some of his best work.

Directors Harri Shanahan and Siân A. Williams have created a commanding, if one-sided, film that documents the importance of the Rebel Dykes sub-culture in detail for the first time — its importance for future generations of queer women will be vital.

Pirates isn’t able to fully flesh out the individual journeys of its charming cast. However, it’s a worthwhile trade-off for a good laugh.

If it falters early on, The Summit Of The Gods emerges an astonishing work of animation of both intimacy and incredible scale, stunningly well-crafted and smartly adapted.

Multi-hyphenate Justin Chon has crafted an impressive melodrama, rich in Louisiana atmosphere and with a timely message, but Blue Bayou is marred by its reliance on symbolism and sentiment.

This charmingly odd tribute to Sorrentino’s formative years is slighter than it possibly deserves to be, but when it’s this handsome, who cares? Will have you absolutely salivating for Italy.

This latest visit to Raccoon City captures the games’ spirit but fails to translate that to cinematic thrills.

A few storytelling decisions don’t ring true, but the winning performances and loving celebration of Black British culture help conjure up just enough holiday cheer to make this worth watching.

Phoenix, Hoffman and Norman, especially, amuse and move with their relatable performances in Mills’ sweet drama. It’s nicely visualised but can feel unnecessarily long in places.

Heartfelt and heart-breaking, this feels like Spielberg has made an adaptation faithful to its roots but also, always, alive to the modern world.

After an unsatisfying start as a comedy, Silent Night finds its feet as an ambitious, thoughtful chamber piece about what it means to peer into the abyss. Merry Christmas, everyone!

A Boy Called Christmas is by-the-numbers Yuletide storytelling buoyed by a strong Brit cast, inventive filmmaking and a heart in the right place.

Bad Luck Banging Or Loony Porn is a scattershot satire, wrapping its hit-and-miss point-making in a raunchy comic romp. Despite its faults, Radu Jude’s flick is one of the more audacious films of 2021.

While Michael Pearce’s second feature may not deliver quite the same wallop as his debut feature Beast, it demonstrates the same mastery of filmmaking craft and another incredible performance from Riz Ahmed.

Justice hasn't been done. The heavens haven't fallen. But skilfully prodding and probing at the edges of America’s greatest crime scene, Oliver Stone reinforces the argument that this was far from an open-and-shut case.

It’s hard to take House Of Gucci seriously, because it never seems to take itself seriously. Yet with such glee being had by those involved, it’s an infectious, bizarro bit of fun.

Not even Halle Berry’s presence can enliven this stale sports film-family drama mash-up. By the end of it, the barrage of clichés leaves you black and blue.

The bizarre intersection between Ryūsuke Hamaguchi, Haruki Murakami and Anton Chekhov makes for a thematically fat, ambiguous, absorbing psycho-sexual drama. It’s not for the impatient, but it’s so precise and delicate, you won’t notice the gear-changes.

The narrative here feels somewhat underdeveloped, but Campion remains a master of sensory storytelling, delivering a scorching study of masculinity rooted in fear.

A story even more delicate and moving than Sciamma’s last effort, this takes an unusual and thoughtful look at girlhood, motherhood and friendship. It’s enchanting.

Vibrant visuals, a stack of stellar songs, and a story with real heart make for another Disney banger. Sixty films in, the Mouse House still has that magic.

Mothering Sunday just falls short of a great movie; a radical attempt to shake up period-picture staidness, shot through with strong performances, impeccable craft and a strain of sadness, but it’s never enough to tug vigorously at the heartstrings.

A defanged variation on the theme that doesn't commit hard enough to be silly fun, beyond a few chuckles.

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s directorial debut is an affectionate, if flawed, Valentine to both musical theatre and the art of creativity — some bum notes, some strong moments. Tick, tick… the jury’s out.

The forceful imagery and acute sound design make Natural Light worth surrendering to, but a frail narrative may leave you feeling like you’re in no man’s land.

Eastwood’s back with a look at manliness filtered through the wisdom of aging. It makes the odd stultifying stop and falls into several cliché potholes, yet Cry Macho ultimately finds its way.

Paul Andrew Williams and Neil Maskell breathe new life into a familiar one-man-army scenario. Unrelenting, no-nonsense and hard-as-nails — just like its eponymous anti-hero.

Exactly what you’d expect from a crime-caper action-comedy pairing Dwayne Johnson and Ryan Reynolds. Nothing more, nothing less.

Tom Hanks is more than enough to make this almost one-man show thrilling and heart-breaking. Prepare to weep. Doubly so if you’re a dog person.

Though it doesn’t ever make you really feel, Spencer is a bold, compassionate, poetic riposte to standard royal biopics. It 
also confirms Kristen Stewart as one of the most exciting actors working today.

An ace in the hole from a filmmaker himself unafraid to gamble. The Card Counter’s pacing won’t be for everyone, but Schrader fans will be all-in on this gripping portrait of lament.

An impressive filmmaking debut from actor-turned-director Rebecca Hall which largely avoids cliché or soapboxing about race, featuring two excellent performances from Tessa Thompson and Ruth Negga.

Director Chloé Zhao’s entry into the superhero world is assured, ambitious and told on a dizzyingly cosmic scale — but even it can’t escape the clichés of superhero storytelling.

Further complicating the already indecipherable lore of the first film, The Boss Baby 2: Family Business is nice to look at but unfunny, unengaging and unintelligible. May it grow up soon.

The French Dispatch is a designed-to-within-an-inch-of its-life delight. If it lacks a compelling story, only one filmmaker could have made this film. And, in these cookie-cutter-director days, it’s a vision to be cherished.

Stark but utterly compelling, this chilling take on Macbeth is a visually stunning tour de force. It’s as good as you’d expect from this cast and crew, which is saying something.

As stirring and heart-warming as you’d like, this is a hugely touching family opus. It’s nothing revolutionary, but it’s straight from the heart and gets you in the gut.

A few flat ideas aside, this is a handsomely made horror film that expertly utilises the frightening talent of its young stars and draws Wright into a new, exciting chapter.

The Verdict Underground is hypnotic but clear-eyed, finding a different way to put a musical biography on film. And for all its radical formalism, it never forgets to be entertaining.

Despite the odd fun bit of bloodshed, Halloween Kills is mostly tired, tedious and an insult to everything John Carpenter got right first time round.

There’s a little bit more polish this time, but for all the talented people involved, Let There Be Carnage still has the whiff of a turd in the wind. 

Whilst occasionally breathless to the point of exhausting, there’s nothing second-rate about The Beta Test, a sharp satire on the film industry that really packs a punch.

It’s not the kind of historical drama you might expect from Ridley Scott, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. And if its threefold perspective tests the patience, it at least gives the right character the final word.

An amiable, amusing story of unlikely friendship, which is as aware of what makes people tick as it is of what makes tech troubling.

It’s always fun, inventive and full of charm. If you have any concerns that Jason Reitman’s film might sully the legacy of his dad’s greatest creation, there’s nothing to be afraid of.

Ironically, given the mantra for its main characters is about embracing the weird, The Addams Family 2 does little that is out-there or different, delivering a safe, stale 93 minutes. Unlike that killer theme tune, it never actually clicks.

Packed with style, charm and a barrel-full of shrapnel for good measure, The Harder They Fall will still be standing when the smoke clears. The Bullitts doesn’t miss.

Gyllenhaal flexes all his considerable acting muscles in this taut, tense thriller. One of the better remakes you’ll see.

As a sensitive portrait of what college is like for the awkward lonely types — and an ode to just staying up late and shooting the sh*t — Freshman Year is a funny, tender treat.

Filled with imaginative, vibrant visuals and an (inter) stellar lead performance, despite some flourishes that miss their landing, Gagarine’s voyage is one well worth joining.

This is Bond film that dutifully ticks all the boxes — but brilliantly, often doesn’t feel like a Bond film at all. For a 007 who strived to bring humanity to larger-than-life hero, it’s a fitting end to the Craig era.

23 Walks is romance of the gentlest kind. Steadman and Johns are likeable but the writing doesn’t deliver characters that compel and convince. But for dog lovers, it’s pooch porn.

A rivetingly weird and exceptionally beautiful fantasy film that offers no easy answers but ponders the biggest questions — through myths, mysticism, and men in crisis. This is major stuff from David Lowery.

A busier proposition than its HBO forefather, this sets up more than it can pay off. But it does manage to balance fan-service with plenty of rich, original, complex material.

Despite the generic title, Only You is an emotional treat, lit up by stellar charisma from Laia Costa and Josh O’Connor. And debutante Harry Wootliff is a filmmaker to watch.

Prisoners Of The Ghostland is by turns brilliant and rubbish. Cage is in his element, it has visual invention to spare, and the fight scenes are fun, but it’s a shame such imagination is tethered to equally all-over-the-place storytelling.

Rose Plays Julie is impactful and unsettling, heightened by slippery performances and enigmatic visual construction.

A solid adaptation, even if its camp exuberance is a bit muted on the screen. It’s unlikely everybody will be talking about it, but its positivity is infectious.

Occasionally dynamic action and an incredible cast can’t ultimately save this muddled, derivative film. And please don’t call it ‘Jane Wick’.

There’s a hodge-podge of ideas going on that don’t always seamlessly fit, but Wan’s homage to ’80s horror and Wallis’s fretful performance, has a bloody lot of guts.