Every bit as contrived as the leading lady's hairstyles, and rather less technically impressive, this is still trashy fun.

Deliberately provocative, infuriatingly melodramatic, this is a film that begs not to be taken seriously, and requires a ready suspension of moral discernment for maximum enjoyment.

Holmes’ wholesome charm keeps the movie afloat, but only just.

Its heart is in the right place, but some lively performances from the better-than-you’d-expect ballers-turned-actors can only paper over a thin, cliché-riddled script so much.

It's hard to imagine that even a documentary on the apparently harmonious marriage of Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward -a union established in 1958 and still going strong - could be duller than this stodgy addition to the Merchant-Ivory menu of good taste.

Even worse than it sounds.

Braindead and done to death, this somehow remains a relatively fun ride.

Figgis, reunited with Gere after Internal Affairs, went through the Hollywood mangle on this one, and despite flashes of insight, anything worthwhile gets lost in a script that strains too hard for truth and provokes unfortunate big laughs.

How did such a dream project on paper turn out so wrong. It should remain one of the great mysteries of cinema. The less said about this one, the better. For Spielberg completists only.

Despite the odd moment of visual bravura, this mockumentary is too aware of its own satirical daring. Consequently, it's never as dark, dangerous or amusing as it thinks - and the soundtrack is diabolical.

Despite the usually dependable cast, this is a slow and ever-so-slightly dull affair. Try Bogart's 1955 original instead.

Painting from a typical kaleidoscopic canvas Noé crafts a brain-bendingly metaphysical trip that definitely won't be everyone's cup of tea.

The Boss Baby is hopped up on energy but never harnesses it effectively. There are laughs and heart buried in this idea somewhere. Shame the film is too hyperactive to find them.

Mind you, Eastwood went on the star with an orang-utan, twice, so this is only his third maddest film. Although, it could be his dullest. Which was one thing no one would of expected of this madcap enterprise, born of a what-the-heck attitude from its macho stars — that it would struggle so hard to be fun.

The resulting portrait seems cruel at times, and Bingenheimer's little-boy-lost expression can be heartbreaking.

There's lo-fi charm in the musical numbers and heartfelt turns from the young cast but the story drifts along without offering much that we haven't seen before.

Aniston deports herself competently, here showing us nothing she hasn't on Friends, and Bacon is pretty much on autopilot as the company stud but it is Mohr who actually shines, skilfully giving an underwritten role a genuinely deft sense of nobility and charm.

A salt-of-the-earth tale that’ll play well in red states, but offers little spark.

A fairly dappy and overlong attempt to turn Prince the then emergent rock-funk superstar into a movie star.

The beginning of Steve Martin's non-funny comedies. Ephron should know better as well.

It's plus points are few and far between - fantastic music, well worth buying the soundtrack for, and the occasional Moranis and Martin magic we would expect throughout - but such rare glimpses merely underline the sheer sogginess of the rest of the movie.

Nothing Landis can do makes up for a limp plot bolstered by distinctly Cannonball Run-ish car smashes and an irritating sprog. And the movie's not even out in the year 2000.

Performances, plot and landings are nailed down, but there's not enough invention here for the film to achieve cult status.

Less a reboot, more a hit-and-miss cover-version. The cast are game, Applegate especially, but the laughs flatten like a deflated tyre.

There is fun to be had.... But it essentially feels like an overlong, mega-budgeted episode of a Saturday-morning serial.

At a time when television is easier to make than films, it's a pity that a quart of plot in a pint-sized pot is largely to blame for this muddled misfire, which wastes some promising ideas and an impressive cast.

Tom and Anna are so thinly sketched that by the time the painfully slow set-up starts to pay off, we no longer care who does what to whom, or why.

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.

Despite the nobility of its intentions and commitment of its cast, this would-be treatise on gig economical iniquity winds up patronising the very ‘invisible people' it's supposed to be championing.

Themes of self-acceptance and inner strength seem a little out of place in a movie featuring a hound farting at phantasms.

Moderately lame horror.

An old school romantic thriller that lacks the subtleties and sophistication of recent spy storytelling, be it on the big screen (Bridge Of Spies) or small (The Night Manager).

Like "Ghost Rider: Low Voltage," this is a surprisingly underpowered excursion into Marvel's mad world by Neveldine and Taylor. More purgatory than hellfire.

Less than crowd-pleasing chick flick livened up by John Cusack’s self-penned one-liners.

Sugar Hill wants to be very different to the other Boyz in the Hood style films by using a second rate Spike Lee approach but sadly it doesn't make the film any better, only highlighting its failures. With the market heavily saturated with these 'hood' gangster films, this fails to stand out.

Not even the considerable talents of the ever watchable Naomie Harris can elevate Black And Blue above the broad and generic. The result is sadly aggressively formulaic.

It’s not the worst of the trilogy, but this is less for fans of thrillers and more for people who are pining after last year’s holiday to Florence.

The Merlot to "Sideways" Pinot, this is one of those middling movies that, while never terrible, also never really impresses.

Good intentions, but dull and predictable.

By the time everyone's done their darnedest to undermine this romance and the tirelessly selfless St. Danny has begun to contemplate cutting the apron strings, they've all nearly worn out their welcome. It's simple, sweet and uninspired.

It’s at its best when it’s an old-fashioned song-and-dance princess story, with Zegler and Gadot broad but effective, and at its worst in any scene involving the digital dwarves.

A serious misfire.

Pretty as a picture, but emptyheaded as hell.

It huffs and puffs to entertain but Five Nights At Freddy’s 2 falls flat on most levels. Animatronic chickens wreaking havoc should be much more fun.

It’s by no means good, but there are moments of effective emotion and comedy that make up for some of the dumber jokes, and sheer charisma largely carries it along.

Margaret Qualley is lively and engaging, but Stars At Noon is let down by a wearingly meandering plot and lacklustre chemistry. Not one for the Denis hall of fame.

An exhaustive yet still superficial and queasy look at the awful liberties the world took with one woman’s life and image — and is now doing all over again.

Pretty cinematography and a committed performance from Amy Adams fail to save The Woman In The Window, a film that aims for Hitchcockian thrills and lands in afternoon TV territory.

Fun in parts, and Stallone's always watchable, but it's an '80s tribute movie that coasts along on rapidly diminishing goodwill. Beige Heat, if you will.

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.

In between his successful Back II the Futures and his stint on Spin City, Fox's career was in freefall with this film proving the point. Although he is as charismatic as ever, it's not enough for the viewer to actually sympathise with Fox's character, or even lift this poor comedy enough to get a laugh.

44 Inch Chest gets by on the quality of its performances.

Loud, silly and tired. Aside from an almost-fun Jackie Chan cameo, this is enough to give anyone a severe nut allergy.

The ensemble acting is so strong the characters are likeable without being annoying, and aside from the odd corny line which serves as a reminder of the movie's stupidity, if taken at face value it becomes a fair enough yarn with bundles of energy.

There were a few sci-fi movies in the 70s that managed to transcend the genre and become fairly well known in the mainstream. This weren't one of 'em and for good reason.

Packed with more clichés than a pizza has pepperoni slices, this is truly disappointing, especially after Lane’s stunning performance in "Unfaithful."

While [Penn] has all the heavyweight America-gone-sour themes and confused characters found in roadside movies like Five Easy Pieces, Electra Glide In Blue or Thieves Like Us, he misses the eccentric and exciting spikiness that made them more than just gloomfests.

Falls between romance and drama without really satisfying either.

There are a scattering of infallibly cringe-making horrors, but on the whole Saw 3D could do with more depth.

Although adequately put together, this is entirely unnecessary as a movie, with nothing to add to its limited interest sub-genre, no surprises at all in its by-the-numbers script, and no credit at all to the various servicable members of the cast.

If "Wedding Crashers" is in your top ten rom-coms ever, you might not hate this. Otherwise, it’s too gross to be sweet and too sweet to be gross.

If "Spider-Man 2" is this summer's main comic-book-movie course, Catwoman is clearly the leftovers.

An uneven tone and the feeling of too many cooks mars the finished product, but there are moments of beauty and real terror.

A wildly ambitious space opera, but also a self-indulgent narrative morass. Sometimes, it seems, creativity can benefit from a few limitations.

The script is clichéd and uninspired, the tone veering uneasily between unamusing comedy and over-sincere drama, all theological issues are weakly circumvented and the characters hardly relate to each other, let alone to any of their onscreen activities.

Occasional funny moments but this is very very thin.

A load of formulaic nonsense that should still turn a few young heads thanks to its fantasy plot and Jesse Metcalfe's chest

Surprisingly sedate telling of the rather well-known tale from Catherine Hardwicke.

Music And Lyrics never really finds its tone. Fans of Barrymore and Grant are likely to enjoy their pleasing ramblings, and the modern-day, down-to-earth courtship is handled well. But this is unlikely to go down as either actor’s finest hour.

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.

This super-powered spoof just doesn't fly.

Decent premises and the promise of Billy Crystal pale in a film that fronts up to, then whimpers away from, the prospect of leaping out of its genre's boundaries.

Big sci-fi ideas done on a budget doesn't quite translate into a compelling thriller.

Shrek this ain't. A lacklustre effort hampered by limp dialogue and lazy plotting.

It’s breezily fun at times, in a what-the-hey way. But, lumbered with a story that struggles to find resonance beyond its improbable plot devices and preposterous MacGuffinry, Justice League isn’t about to steal Avengers’ super-team crown.

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.

It has a few laughs and some stylish outfits, but this is unfortunately a shallow prequel, one which fails to breathe new life into the Hunger Games franchise.

Frankie & Johnny is a salutary reminder of what happens when two Hollywood stars, no matter what firmament they may inhabit, are lumped together without any real storyline, subtlety or sex.

There are films that demand sequels, and then there's Miss Congeniality.

Not dire, but you can’t escape the feeling that there’s a good movie in here trying to get out.

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.

Its title might be near-identical, but this legacy sequel is everything the original wasn’t — pleasantly gory, but light on atmosphere and really, really stupid.

Except for the success of Three Men and a Baby, (NOT Little Lady), Tom Selleck had great problems making the transition to the big screen. Here is another case in hand with such stereotypical characters as Hutton dominatrix and Hoskins Londoner.

Manages to be both very silly and highly forgettable. Only for those who collect killer-children films.

A disappointingly tame and unimaginative effort, which throws away much of what was best-loved about the original and fails to find worthy replacements.

Tarot is a personality-less horror that doesn’t overly concern itself with either character or plot. It’s here to deliver one thing and one thing only: cool kills.

Sadly, beyond the wigs, costumes and exquisite set design, its a vacant enterprise.

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.

Too scattershot to land any effective punches.

The dialogue is intelligent, but the humourlessness -- and the fact that most of the cast could use a good slap -- results less in involving drama and more in the viewer being held hostage in a 90-minute therapy session for the well-dressed and narcissistic.

The set-up is not as elegant as that of the first film, so this feels more forced and the humour more familiar. Still, the performances are winning and the setting appropriately seasonal, so it might do for the holidays.

Can everyone stop making moody origin stories now, please? While not a disaster, this isn’t the claws-out, rampaging adventure we hoped for. No-one cares where Wolverine found his jacket — a spin-off with him kicking ass in Japan would have been way more fun.

The lines between artist and muse are too clean cut to capture the visceral and intimate emotion of two lovers. Broomfield’s approach feels more intrusive than reflective, reducing the private story to public gossip.

Everyone’s trying hard, but they can’t quite live up to the particularly gentle, warm tone of Pooh himself. Unlike the bear of very little brain, this is a film pulled in different directions with entirely too many thoughts in its head.

This thriller can't decide if it's a childrens thriller meant for adults or an adult thriller meant for kids, but ends up entertaining no-one.

What promised so much, delivers so little thanks to a script that too often veers from the point. A missed opportunity.

It's now become Hollywood gospel that if a high concept film is reasonably successful, then make a sequel and if that raises any interest at all, then, hey why not try one more. It's a shame that here the studios just don't know when to stop with this episode ruining the name of what was once an enjoyable franchise.

A big, lumbering bastard of an action movie sequel. It achieves more-or-less exactly what it promises — which, given this franchise’s track record, is a low bar to clear.