Understated performances and unflashy filmmaking coalesce into an absorbing mixture of the personal and the political. It may take its time but, given the circumstances of its making, this is an extraordinary achievement.

Moving, enlightening, but above all entertaining, this is a worthy tribute to a prolific talent that fortifies our appreciation for Vandross and his art.

Compelling and excellently acted, September 5 is a shining study of journalistic integrity, even if it skips some of the bigger and more important questions raised by the event it documents.

The film is let down by an approach that goes for impact over insight, but Last Breath is a worthy entry to the ‘hostile environment’ documentary subgenre.

There’s amazing beauty to be found in Naoko Yamada’s aural odyssey – even when a film about matters of the heart gets a little caught up in its own head.

Don’t expect the true terror of Perkins’ Longlegs or King’s source story. Do expect plentiful gags to make you, well, gag. The best scenes here are a gory glory.

Not as funny as you’d hope – and yet the emotional character work pays off, right down to a sweet epilogue. Romcom fans should attend.

The founding of a comedy institution shot as a madcap thriller, Saturday Night glides over the surface rather than drilling deep, but it’s largely a hell of a fun 109 minutes.

A gruelling but ultimately rewarding experience, this is Leigh at his most confrontational, devastating and humane, aided by the unadulterated power of Jean-Baptiste’s career-redefining performance.

Despite a handful of cool moments, The Killer’s Game turns out to be one not worth playing.

It won’t win any awards for originality but Flight Risk is a fun, unpretentious, tight 91 minutes — especially if you’ve always jonesed to see Downton Abbey’s Lady Mary cream someone with a fire extinguisher.

Entertaining if inconsequential, Companion is buoyed by solid central performances from actors that seem keenly aware that it’s all just a bit of bloody fun. Viva la robot revolución!

Less a Star Trek movie than a middling pilot episode setting up a series that will never come, Section 31 makes for a disheartening send-off for a once great character.

Steven Soderbergh’s first-person experiment is a gamble that pays off massively. This is an eerie family drama that turns the horror genre inside out and infuses it with greater empathy.

Brady Corbet’s seismic drama reaches for the sky as it surveys the soul of a man and a nation. There will be Oscars.

This old-fashioned tale of folk heroism and hardy underdogs benefits from solid performances and spectacular vistas, but it loses points for a sequel-baiting ending. 

Another deeply flawed, tech-forward endeavour for Zemeckis in which glimmers of human emotion only occasionally break through. Like Cloud Atlas for baby boomers experiencing late-middle-age malaise.

A solid action-comedy that proves just how much we’ve missed Cameron Diaz in the last ten years. Next time don’t leave it so long, eh?

It doesn’t quite marry up underlying themes with its hairy horror surface, but Wolf Man delivers strong performances, skin-crawling bodily changes and excellently scary sequences.

Funny and shocking, Get Away is not always a successful holiday-gone-wrong, but its bloody bonkers final act makes it worth the trip.

More unsubtly crowd-pleasing, Burnley-based ebullience, which gets by on its unimpeachably virtuous message — and a gloriously garrulous performance from the always-reliable Rory Kinnear.

An exploration of carnal desire that is at once fiercely erotic, nuanced and raucously funny, with Kidman charging into the breach, flaws bared, taking everything that Reijn hurls her way.

It may be formally unadventurous but A Real Pain is a real treat, a tender, funny treatise on family jealousies and our relationship to the past. Simultaneously light and heavy, it soars on the stellar pairing of Eisenberg and Culkin.

Rungano Nyoni is one of the most exciting voices in cinema today and On Becoming a Guinea Fowl is abject proof: a disquieting, blistering examination of a family where social status trumps blood ties.

Pugh and Garfield are a dynamite duo in this likably earnest, satisfyingly complicated love story. Worthy of your time, and your tears.

Nickel Boys is a triumph. Its unique approach brings a new dimension to its source material, while amplifying the emotional resonance between the present and a horrifying past.

La Diva Eterna lives in Jolie, with a performance as towering as it is understated: sad and soulful and heartbreaking. She has never been better. Brava!

Slightly better than its predecessors, Sonic The Hedgehog 3 works hard to entertain — it has the odd bright moment — but overall lacks surprise, freshness or anything to set the heart racing. It’s a Saturday-morning cartoon writ long.

Barry Jenkins’ verve only faintly shines through in an origin story that is mildly, not wildly, entertaining.

Die Hard karaoke this may be, but it delivers — and eclipses at least two of John McClane’s outings in the process. Look forward to future eye-rolling debates as to whether it qualifies as a Christmas movie.

This all feels a long way from Chandor’s glory days of Margin Call and All Is Lost. Save the occasional flourish, Kraven The Hunter is limp, tired, uninvolving superhero fare.

Reassuringly formulaic, this is a straightforwardly inspirational-by-numbers sports movie, made watchable thanks to Jharrel Jerome and Jennifer Lopez.

Anyone looking for a revelatory portrait of an iconic artist might be a smidge disappointed. But as conventional as it is, this is still a strikingly well-made musical drama with pitch-perfect performances. Don’t criticise, as Dylan once sang, what you can’t understand. 

It never scrapes the heights of Jackson’s trilogy — few do — but amid a messy meeting of worlds, there are stirring moments.

Made with love, even in its awkward moments, this modest account of a miraculous achievement is quietly life-affirming.

Sam Crane and Pinny Grylls’ feature co-directorial debut is a riotously funny, unexpectedly poignant ode to gaming, Shakespeare, the indestructible nature of art, and the benefits of befriending bazooka wielding extraterrestrials.

If you like your satire incisive you should perhaps look elsewhere, but the state of the world looks even more laughably absurd through Maddin and the Johnsons’ wickedly warped lens.

Its wackier moments sometimes feel like they have more bark than bite, but as an uncommonly honest and authentic depiction of motherhood, Nightbitch will come as sharp relief to mums everywhere.

Writer/director Payal Kapadia delivers a memorable and compassionate slice-of-life drama, making a clear statement about the constraints faced by working-class women in India.  

A typically formulaic seasonal sugar rush that’s only blandly mediocre, rather than so-bad-it’s-good. But Lindsay Lohan’s romcom-dominance cannot be denied.  

A solid if fairly derivative attempt to steal Disney’s thunder. There’s enough pep and vigour here to keep kids interested, if not quite enough for the grown-ups. 

The most batshit music biopic since Todd Haynes did the Karen Carpenter story with Barbie dolls, Michael Gracey pulls off the biggest cinematic surprise of the year. An absolute blast. 

The stories are all individually charming, but overly familiar animation and underwhelming character-design blunt the effect. 

Despite its familiar story beats, Eggers’ retelling suffocates like a coffin, right up to its chilling final shot. Lily-Rose Depp is full-bloodedly committed, and Bill Skarsgård’s fiend gorges with terrible fury.

Bogiephiles who know their Sahara from their Sirocco may not find much new here, but anyone interested in early-to-mid-20th-century Hollywood history will discover plenty to spark further investigation. 

A touch less fresh than the original, but this is still bursting with energy, emotion, warmth and imagination. It knows the way.  

A feverish, quietly sad exploration of longing and infatuation. Its lack of focus stifles the experience, but Daniel Craig has rarely been as compelling a watch.

A papal thriller that treads on eggshells, Conclave is one of the year’s most deftly balanced films. Pulpy and pensive in equal measure.

This drama works best when it’s not taking its cues directly from its source material. It may not be always totally compelling, but Deadwyler elevates every scene she’s in.

Chu amps up the colour and spectacle to extraordinary, almost overwhelming heights, but the real magic comes from Erivo and Grande as the frenemies at the story’s heart. 

More ‘Lost In Long Island’ than ‘Miracle On Main Street’, this offbeat indie ladles on the melancholy mood while skimping on the holiday highs, and seems destined to become a cult Christmas favourite.

With so-so performances and an immensely dumb conceit, this is snow Christmas classic. Still, it’s less naughty, more ice than we might have expected. 

A deliberate film that uses small moments to examine one of the great questions of our time: how good people let bad things happen, and how we might push back against the dark.  

Working from her own story idea, producer Daisy Ridley shines in Magpie, an adultery thriller that’s a little too cool and calculated to truly ruffle viewers’ psychic feathers. 

What could have been a ponderous, predictable sequel to a much-loved Oscar-winner instead turns out to be a fun romp. However Gladiator II fares this awards season, it’s a hell of a ride.

Piece By Piece’s very existence is baffling, and the Lego of it all is never entirely justified, but as an unconventional documentary of a maverick musician, it works — just about.

There’s a little bit of heart here, in the story of two people who have lost faith in Christmas for very different reasons, but more often this feels engineered in a lab to provide seasonal spectacle.

A classic Andrea Arnold picture, complete with striking new talent and moving insight into life lived on the margins.

While all of the signature elements are present and correct, right down to the soul-shrivelling hard stare, some of the warmth and wit and dashes of brilliant eccentricity we’ve become used to are absent.

An incredibly tense, tightly contained bottle horror, showcasing a genuinely chilling turn from Hugh Grant. You’ll never watch Notting Hill the same way again.

Jacques Audiard’s outlandish musical thriller is a little jumbled, and a little misjudged in the treatment of its characters. But you can’t doubt its audaciousness.

Destined to be forgotten the minute it’s finished, Time Cut is a passable addition to the slash-up genre – acceptable Halloween fare for the fright-challenged, or anyone with a soft spot for the music of Hilary Duff.

This is Steve McQueen’s most accessible film to date, without diluting any of his power. Mixing epic sweep with textured detail, despite an episodic second half it will make even the stiffest upper lip quiver.

As far as documentaries go, this doesn’t reinvent the wheel, but its emotional account of Reeve’s life is a fitting tribute to a true superhuman.

At once a frenzied fairy tale and a tender-hearted character study, Anora is an intoxicating pairing of director and star. Baker’s unique, humanistic approach to filmmaking is as riveting and rewarding as ever.

If this is to be a swansong, it’s a fitting one: a thrillingly watchable legal thriller about truth, justice and (for better and for worse) the American way, as told by an all-American icon. 

Pacy thrills are doled out in a solid Sam Raimi-approved pulse-raiser with a few nifty ideas up its sleeve. Shall we try ‘Don’t Smell’ next?

It’s delightful to see these characters again, particularly the long-suffering Gromit, and if the jokes don’t come quite as thick and fast as before, the beating heart beneath the clay remains intact.

Though not as risk-taking as his earlier work, François Ozon’s fanfic for the Jazz Age steers clear of pastiche and is utterly charming — throwing a few curveballs to keep you on your toes.

A heartfelt digital eulogy for an unconventional but extremely human life.

It’s a very straightforward story, but there is no doubting the heartfelt nature of the telling — and the subject matter is unimpeachable. John Williams was the best to ever do it, and this film is a good reminder of how, and why.

The Front Room features a remarkably funny performance from Kathryn Hunter as a mischievous mother-in-law, but its tale of lurking danger remains malformed.

It’s third time unlucky for a series that still hasn’t worked out what it wants to be. The Last Dance can’t find its rhythm.

Woman Of The Hour isn’t the serial-killer thriller you’d expect, but more noble for it. Kendrick shows promise as a director, her lacklustre male antagonist hammering home this film’s purpose.

Creepy and clever but rarely surprising, this horror hits its marks well enough, but fails to surpass its more rough-and-ready predecessor.

A gift of great storytelling, this is the best film Chris Sanders has made.

A smart, tragic take on just how dark the American Dream can be, with award-worthy work from Stan and Strong.

By no means the disaster many might have expected following its years-long delay. You’ll like it. Not a lot, but you’ll like it.

Despite Oscar-winner Ariana DeBose's best efforts, this fine-dining horror only elicits a few scares. The food looks delicious, and the knife skills are on point, but genre fans will likely want to eat elsewhere.

An ingenious, wildly stylish new take on the body-swap movie, this deserves to be a Gen-Z cult classic. 

Despite the compelling high concept — and some epic action set-pieces — there’s not quite enough meat on the bones of this dystopian follow-up to make it truly worthy of its predecessor. 

For a debut feature, this dustbowl survival flick shows undeniable promise. But committed performances and striking cinematography can’t stop a shaky narrative crumbling at the last. 

Managing to go further over-the-top and pushing more offence buttons than you think possible, this is recommended only for the strong of stomach and hard of heart. 

Timestalker lacks a little humour and insight into obsessive love to make it truly sing, but it’s an admirably ambitious fable that could be destined to become a cult oddity.

Come to this clever satire for Sebastian Stan’s radical transformation, beyond the prosthetics, but stay for Adam Pearson’s remarkable performance as a bona fide matinée idol.

As with many high-concept horrors, it falls apart as it grasps for an ending, but there's still enough dread, and three great central performances, to just about carry it through.

Smart, and sharp enough to balance the sweetness of its simple yet profound message. All we have is time, and this film reminds us, movingly, that it matters how we spend it.

Although sometimes baggy and uncontrolled, The Outrun is a sensitive, non-judgemental portrayal of addiction and mental illness, anchored by a typically transcendent performance from Saoirse Ronan.

Valiant though this low-budget attempt to reclaim Hellboy may be, it sadly lacks the storytelling and stylistic savvy to rise above its all-too-obvious budgetary limitations.

This is a film about nothing less than the future of America and the history of mankind. It is brash and bonkers and doesn’t always hang together, but 85-year-old Francis Ford Coppola has rarely been as audacious.

The endearing moments in Kevin Smith’s coming-of-age cinema-fest are weighed down by underwritten comedy. Could have done with being more sweet, less salty.

You’ll think you know where this sun-baked serial-killer thriller is going, until you don’t. A nifty, chronologically crafty tale, fuelled by bravura acting by Willa Fitzgerald, it’s a small movie with high impact.

An affectionate road-trip buddy-movie, featuring an unseen depth to Will Ferrell, this documentary is illuminating, timely, and gently funny.

Feminist scholarship this ain’t; think Showgirls if it were directed by David Cronenberg. But give yourself permission to revel in the excess and be rewarded with an uproariously good time.

McKellen has fun as the bitter, biting Erskine, but the plot takes so long to come together that at times he’s the only thing holding the audience’s interest.

There’s slightly more than meets the eye with Transformers One. While the art style is sometimes off-putting, its ideas are interesting enough to make it a decent addition to the franchise.

The business of this story in both versions is suspense, and Watkins is very good at ratcheting screws . . . but also springs satisfying reversals and pay-offs.

Despite some tired storytelling devices, Lee is a handsomely made, moving biopic of a subject who deserves to be honoured — with stellar chemistry and performances from Kate Winslet and Andy Samberg.