The Occupant is a slow burn of a thriller that never catches fire. Looking to skewer the pursuit of perfection during late capitalism, it misses both its satiric targets and a sense of kitsch fun.

A fun diversion for the kids, but you feel Attenborough could have packaged these often beautifully produced images with more rigour and insight in under an hour.

The Conjuring by way of The Cornetto Trilogy, there’s little ordinary about Extra Ordinary – an unfalteringly funny, ectoplasm-drenched horror-comedy that deserves the cult status it’s destined for.

Released at any time, The Platform, packed with ideas and moments to be endlessly debated, would have all the makings of a cult classic. Released in 2020, it is an astonishingly apt metaphor for our times.

This Tramp doesn’t really stamp a fresh personality on a story already told well. But it also doesn’t embarrass itself compared to the original and it’s got a shaggy charm of its own.

Togo is in a slightly more sombre register than Call Of The Wild but delivers similar sturdy pleasures; exciting dog-in-peril action and striking landscapes, all anchored by Dafoe’s grounded performance.

A frothy fantasy about a boy and his bear that makes up for in style what it lacks in substance.

At a time when teen outsiders are having their time in the spotlight, Stargirl feels like a relic, and a prompt for Disney to do a better job at capturing contemporary high-school culture.

The vital story of a singular trailblazer is brought to life with surprising ambition and a committed Rosamund Pike, but such inventive methods confuse the crux of Marie Curie’s intelligence, with alienating storytelling rendering her humanity impenetrable.

Astronaut doesn’t have the budget or cinematic ambition to deliver on its premise. Despite the best efforts of Richard Dreyfuss, it reaches for the stars and misses by a mile.

Well played and well shot, Run’s idea of relocating Springsteen’s America to a rain-swept Scottish fishing town is interesting, but sadly it runs out of gas and road before it hits the horizon. Less baby we were born to run, more baby we were born to drive around in circles for a bit.

Despite the odd strong moment, this Bloodshot is anaemic.

This big-spy-meets-little-kid comedy isn’t funny enough for teens, but not really suitable for younger viewers either.

And Then We Danced is a well-made love story, anchored by a mesmerizing Levan Gelbakhiani and enlivened by electrifying dance numbers.

A political football that arrives punctured and sputtering, this toothless class satire — an equal-opportunity offender — shouldn’t have pre-enraged anyone. It’s hardly the Hollywood takedown the MAGA crowd feared.

The revolutionary visuals find endless ways to honour the mind of an innovator – but simultaneously risk an overwhelm of aesthetic information, rather than a lucid insight into the anatomy of contemporary dance.

Not as good as The Full Monty or Brassed Off but better than Swimming With Men and Fisherman’s Friends, Military Wives is a familiar, entertaining hymn to the power of people coming together in adversity.

Unlikely to win over those who remember the lush vistas and Montalban-powered original, nor appeal much to teens looking for a horror-filled night at the movies, Fantasy Island is distinctly sub-par filmmaking full of clichés and lacking in real entertainment value. No one would call this their ultimate fantasy.

Despite an inherently cinematic story and some effective sequences, Escape From Pretoria struggles to transcend a clunky, one-dimensional script.

A celebratory portrait of author Toni Morrison painted by those who knew her, this compelling documentary also explores how her work gives such a powerful voice to the African American experience.

Unbearably tense and thematically rich, this feels like an entirely fresh take on a 123-year-old story.

It’s not as effective as Mandy or The Mist, both of which it evokes at points. But Color Out Of Space is still an audacious and admirably out-there attempt at cosmic horror.

A compelling, grubby outback Western revealing the ragged reality behind a folk hero. Terrific performances, incredible visuals, and a reassertion of Justin Kurzel as a bold filmmaker most comfortable dealing with discomfort.

A bizarrely strait-laced project for Todd Haynes, Dark Waters lacks dramatic oomph but compensates via a well-mounted telling of a terrifying story, driven by still contemporary concerns and a convincing central turn by Mark Ruffalo.

There are theme-park rides; there is cinema; there are sacred love poems to take with you for the rest of your life. Thank you for giving us the last one, Céline Sciamma.

Like a lot of remakes, Downhill doesn’t quite make the argument for its existence. But career-topping performances from Ferrell and Louis-Dreyfus and an unusually frosty comedic tone make this a mostly rewarding day on the slopes.

Pixar returns with a great big power-chord of a movie — heart-pumping, resonant, and positively harmonious.

Like Maximus, the hero who inspires the theme of its pivotal party, Greed will keep you entertained. But patchiness and occasional preachiness mar a clearly heartfelt message movie.

A sentimental but solid dependable retelling of an oft-told tale, it doesn’t do anything radical with the material but gets by on well mounted set-pieces and Ford’s grizzled gravitas.

By eschewing fast-paced suspense Hausner takes the sting out of her story, instead showcasing a bold aesthetic sense that feels like an exciting taste of what’s to come.

Haddish and Byrne play to their comedic strengths but Like A Boss falls foul of formulaic writing and a mistrust of the genre’s full potential. Stick to its groundbreaking peers for a taste of something sweeter.

Dull and often exploitative, Daniel Isn’t Real coasts on the familiar faces of its lead actors while wasting their potential.

Strongly performed by a fresh-faced cast, A Paris Education is familiar and doesn’t completely grip, but is an enjoyable celebration all the good things in life; films, arguing about films, friendship, love, politics and Paris.

It’s not quite as fresh or fun as the first film, but P.S. I Still Love You still has plenty to love about it – not least another loveable performance from Lana Condor.

Sweetening up a smidgen without chilling out, this is Miike having fun, bombarding us with squirm-inducing violence while making us laugh and — ever so slightly — tugging on the heartstrings.

It should be a delicious chocolate gateau but Emma. makes heavy weather of Austen’s charmer, delivering a tonally uneven, mostly airless affair. Amy Heckerling’s Clueless — Emma in the Valley — remains the big screen benchmark.

An on-form Jim Carrey can’t stop Sonic’s live-action debut from feeling like a missed opportunity. If the teased sequels do materialise, here’s hoping the storytelling levels up.

It’s messy, with a middle section that sags, but Birds Of Prey has vibrancy, anarchy and balls to spare. Harley and Joker are dead. Long live Harley Quinn.

A miracle of a film. It feels like Bong Joon-ho’s already extraordinary career has been building to this: a riotous social satire that’s as gloriously entertaining as it is deeply sardonic.

Although certainly an insightful study of the pop star’s populated psyche, Miss Americana is more of a mid-album track than an anthem. What could be raw and rowdy instead feels like an entertaining but tapered means of rebranding.

Eddie Murphy’s Dr. Dolittle generated four sequels. On this showing, Downey Jr’s will be a standalone, an uncynical but mostly lacklustre kids’ flick that doesn’t find its voice, animal or otherwise.

Lively’s steely heroine and a propulsive plot ensure you’re never bored, but this is a generic thriller from a simpler time, bulked up by a single strong performance.

Neither a splendid phoenix from the ashes nor a complete failure, The Man Who Killed Don Quixote is erratic, occasionally inspired, occasionally dull, but shot through with a grandiose sense of ambition. Plus, Driver and Pryce add some magic along the way.

It could easily be twee twaddle, but A Beautiful Day In The Neighborhood is a nuanced, formally playful delight, a perfectly pitched and played ode to goodness. All hail Marielle Heller.

More engrossing than both "Sully" and "The 15:17 To Paris," Richard Jewell is enlivened by Paul Walter Hauser’s breakout performance yet undone by a lack of subtlety and real dramatic wallop. Solid, dependable, very late period Eastwood.

Conjuring menace and mystery from solitude and seagulls, The Lighthouse is a folk tale, a black comedy, a horror, a mystery, a (platonic?) romance — and something more still, something unspeakable. Something like a masterpiece, perhaps.

Unpacking classic fiction that has already been adapted a few times, once to critical acclaim, is no easy task. Yet while it’s not completely up to the challenge, The Turning at least offers up enough moody chills and a lead in Mackenzie Davis it’s not hard to root for as the craziness builds.

A generic but competent reboot-quel enlivened by good performances across the board and some stylish direction. No grudges need be held here, but maybe it’s time to put this franchise to bed.

A breezy, brilliant treat. Iannucci may have softened the bite of his comedy but replaces it with something remarkably optimistic and buoyant, telling a story as joyously relevant as it was a century-and-a-half ago.

Not so much bad Bad Boys, more good Bad Boys. And not so-bad-it’s-good Bad Boys either. Instead, this is comfortably the best entry in the series to date. Which isn’t bad.

If you don’t like Malick’s movies, A Hidden Life won’t convert you. But this is the filmmaker on sublime form, putting his artistry and obsessions at the service of something frighteningly relevant.

A compassionate meditation on love, loss and family, Waves is hyper-stylish yet emotionally grounded. Despite some very high drama, it has a huge heart, and hits you where it hurts.

An important story of injustice inspires but fails to fully ignite, despite two towering central performances from Jamie Foxx and Michael B. Jordan.

An absolute must-see for anyone who loved 2016’s Your Name. Even if it isn’t as surprising and narratively powerful as that film, Weathering With You once again exemplifies Makoto Shinkai’s visionary prowess as an animator.

An illuminating, moving and quietly shocking account of Michael Hutchence’s short life. A must for fans, but Lowenstein’s lyrical, meditative piece offers a compelling account of one man’s passion that exudes warmth and humanity.

Joining the ranks of Sphere, DeepStar Six and Leviathan as soggy Alien do-overs, Underwater finds a few tweaks to the monster play book, but not enough to make it live.

A monumental thriller, which vividly captures its world’s specifics and calibrates its snaky plot for maximum nail-bitability. Also easily the best film to ever extensively feature Adam Sandler yelling at a TV.

Taika Waititi’s most daring film isn’t his most successful. But among the tonal clashes there’s real hope, humanity, and no-bones-about-it Nazi-bashing at a time when that’s depressingly necessary.

Like any Shaun outing, it skews very young — the comedy is mostly slapstick silly and energetic explosions of primary colour. But any Aardman entry promises to be the best of all-ages-appropriate entertainment, with insane levels of stop-motion craft on show.

What it lacks in freshness and depth, The Gentlemen certainly makes up for in cartoon-y bluster and fun details.

Destined to be an instant guilty pleasure, Cats is an insane musical experiment gone wrong. It is truly like nothing cinema has ever seen. The question is, is it something cinema actually wanted?

It looks gorgeous and offers strong performances from Driver and Ridley in particular, but ultimately the saga ends with neither a bang nor a whimper but something inbetween.

Better in conception than execution, Spies In Disguise never really gets the best out of its James Bond Is A Pigeon high concept. The result is entertaining while it lasts, but won’t lodge itself permanently in your memory bank.

It’s not the first of its kind, but compelling performances allow this portrait of a romance a genuine sense of passion. Under Tom Cullen’s sensitive, empathetic direction, this deeply felt picture never loses sight of its people.

A feminist horror flick that lacks nuance in its feminism and thrills in its horror. But it should be applauded for reinterpreting rather than just retreading the original.

If you like your Bayhem pure and unfiltered, this one’s for you. Others need not apply.

It doesn’t have the surprise factor of the last film and sometimes feels rough around the edges, but The Next Level pushes its body-swap antics even further to deliver just as many laughs.

One of the most compelling stories of the #MeToo movement is told unflinchingly, empathetically and authentically, with Charlize Theron completely nailing the knotty character of Megyn Kelly.

There's little tension or opportunity for emotional involvement in the brief story, and despite competent animation the cats are rarely anthropomorphised to good comic effect. One for anime - and animal - lovers only.

Anchored by great performances from Liam Neeson and especially Lesley Manville, Ordinary Love is alive to the feelings and moments other hospital dramas overlook. Its accumulation of details form a shattering whole.

Beautifully played — especially by Wang Jingchun — So Long, My Son is sprawling, audacious, sometimes bewildering, ultimately moving. It tests your patience but it’s worth it.

Somewhere between a primal scream, a self-acceptance and even a forgiveness of sorts, this is an utterly unique bit of autobiography. Brave, bold, and a little batshit.

There’s quite a bit to admire in Motherless Brooklyn, but mostly in detail work — the hats, the cars, the join-the-dots conspiracy theory — but it doesn’t really catch fire as either a private-eye mystery or a study in Tourette syndrome savantry.

The Two Popes shouldn’t work, a two-handed conversation about Vatican minutiae. But with great writing, smart direction and late career-high performances from Anthony Hopkins and Jonathan Pryce, it’s a high-end treat. Send up the white smoke, we have a winner.

The gentle rhythm of this timely, environmentally conscious documentary will temporarily draw you away from the world of tiny screens into a partially ambiguous yet fulfilling tale of endurance.

An affectionate portrait of a remarkable woman that loses its grip when it bites off more than it can chew.

A strikingly odd and original debut that is admirable for taking the triple-threat of suicide, depression and addiction in its nonchalant stride, although the confusing presentation of separate timelines mutes the overall impact.

Not for the faint-hearted — and even the tough-hearted might struggle in a few places. But this uncompromising, unflinching meditation on violence should be seen as widely as possible.

In this haunting social lament Mati Diop pulls off shifts from social realism to genre mysticism with a poise as supernatural as the force that overtakes her young lovers.

Rian Johnson put his own spin on Dashiell Hammett with 2005’s Brick. Now he’s Johnsonised the work of Agatha Christie, with equally enjoyable results. Knives Out is snappy, meta and, yes, sharp.

Although 1917’s filmmaking very much brings attention to itself, it’s an astonishing piece of filmmaking, portraying war with enormous panache. This is big-screen bravado, and then some.

Not just for women of whatever size. Warm but never wishy-washy, cosy without being cutesy, this is a superb adaptation of the source and further evidence that Gerwig is the real deal.

An interesting, well played and well made attempt to reframe Shakespeare’s most famous play through a feminist lens, Ophelia ultimately doesn’t have the boldness to deliver on its resonant idea.

A risky project for Foulkes to make as her first feature, Judy & Punch ventures a little too far into troubled waters with its comedic handling of heavy matter, but shows promise in the woman holding the strings.

The Amazing Johnathan Documentary starts as a blast but as the journey progresses, becomes ever more slippery: Is Szeles tricking Berman? Is Berman bamboozling us? The answer is entertaining and frustrating in equal measures.

Erivo’s impressive central performance is frequently undercut by an all-too-conventional approach. Hopefully in a few years Tubman can get the definitive biopic she deserves. Sadly, this isn’t it.

If it’s slightly hampered by a generic love story and pie-in-the-sky teenage pontificating, I Lost My Body should still rank among the year’s most original and peculiar films. Hands down.

With hard-boiled dialogue, sleek God’s-eye views of the city and serious talent in supporting roles, you’re not given a chance to get bored. Even so, an air of overfamiliarity hangs over proceedings.

What could have been a watery rehash is a fresh, exciting update on an attractive story that previously got lost in its own glamour. Do not underestimate these women.

Queen & Slim tackles urgent, difficult subjects with bravery, care and adrenalised genre cool. But it triumphs because it shows you the personal toll beyond the politics. And how black lives brimming with potential can still turn on one fateful moment.

The best things about the first film — the characters and music — once again sing in a frequently dazzling if narratively flawed sequel that’s better at being sensory than sense-making.

What it lacks in depth, it makes up for with style, well-handled action, and an entertaining central duo. More proof, if needed, that Ma Dong-seok is a star.

A very pleasurable surprise, with likeable leads, the right amount of gore, and some incredible near-the-knuckle gags that you can’t quite believe writer-director Forsythe even attempts, let alone gets away with. Far better than the 1989 Fred Savage-Howie Mandel movie of the same name.

An urgent rebuke to a country losing its conscience, The Report is rigorous but riveting. And Adam Driver — once again — emerges as one of the most watchable actors working today.

Marriage Story manages to be one of this year’s best thrillers, comedies and romcoms all at once. A tender, taut gem of a film that will make you reconsider love and loss.

Even if you’re not a motorhead, chances are you’ll be thrilled by this high-velocity bromance, powered by zesty acting and Mangold’s meticulous direction.

McKellen and Mirren, sharing the screen for the first time, are exquisitely matched in this slight but enjoyable yarn, which is like watching two magnificent vintage cars in a road race, without minding too much who wins.

Midway is a big, bold, brazen attempt to detail one of World War II’s most significant moments. But in a post Saving Private Ryan-Dunkirk landscape, it feels astonishing anyone is still making war movies like this.