A fun and insightful slice of Roman life. Next up, M25: The Movie?

Mat Whitecross draws compelling lines between Coldplay’s past and present in a documentary as colourful and optimistic as its namesake album. It’s one for the fans — even the ones too reluctant to admit that they are.

With insightful one-liners by the bucketload and a memorable duo in Dreyfuss and Mason, this serves as a joyful reminder of a genre which has long since past its best.

Despite strong turns, it feels little more than an Egoyan lecture on Serious Stuff; lots to talk about, little to enjoy.

Connery [is] cruising by this point and the movie doesn't quite match the swagger of Goldfinger, but still effortlessly plies the glory Bond years, concluding with a stunning underwater battle.

Petersen pulls off the thrills at a stomach lurching pace, and with its requisite Hollywood ham - husband and wife reuniting over piles of haemorrhaging bodies - loud performances, crashing stunts and a fearsome, hypochondria-inducing conceit, there's barely room to catch your breath, let alone cry foul.

An honourable attempt to return the mainstream thriller to a more serious, intelligent vein, yet ultimately lacks the complexity of characterisation, dense subterfuge and overall feeling of weightiness that separates the great from the good.

It leans too heavily into ham-fisted cliché but Jack Huston’s debut gets by on a striking look and a clutch of strong performances led by an excellent Michael C. Pitt.

As a Nick Fury buddy comedy, it’s fun. As a feminist fable it’s essential. This takes a while to really get going, but when Carol Danvers takes off she is unstoppable.

A good shout if your kids like this sort of thing, otherwise best head to your local aquarium.

An interesting exploration of class struggle which recalls classics like "Bicycle Thieves" but doesn't quite live up to them.

One of those rare things...a sequel that's funnier and more successful.

A small, strangely sweet tale well told. But this is all about Mol, who puts in a performance that gives her a very early lead on next year's Oscar race.

The execution doesn’t always keep up with the premise, but Fraser is an affable guiding light in this crowdpleaser about the complexities of connection.

The Eight Hundred bites off more that it can chew but it consistently serves up gripping filmmaking on the biggest canvas.

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

A cautionary tale against the dangers of excessive podcasting, this is a supremely spooky sonic ordeal. As an allegory for Catholic guilt, it’s haunting; as an auditory experience, it’ll fuck you up.

Every tiny aspect of the universe here comes from the filmmakers' imagination, and while this occasionally leaves us bemused, the film as a whole is a magical, otherworldly trip into undiscovered areas of cinema.

Sokurov's use of space, religious symbolism and raw emotion compensate for any sense of exclusion.

Although this may sometimes appear to be simply a bawdy soap opera, first-time director Prechezer injects such joie de vivre into proceedings that it scarcely matters.

A bold and uncompromising debut feature from a bright new directing team. There’s a question over whether it justifies its own misery, but if you care about homegrown cinema then you have to see it.

Even if you’re wholly unfamiliar with the franchise, Confess, Fletch will find fans among anyone who likes mystery-comedies, wickedly dry humour, and the sight of Kyle MacLachlan twirling glow-sticks to club music.

A frothy and often charming directorial effort from Hoffman, his first in a Hollywood career that's spanned five decades, that will keep Downton fans happy.

Buffeted by a lack of suspense, threadbare characters, and a very poor script, the stunning visuals, gloopy madness, and sterling Fassbenderiness can't prevent Prometheus feeling like Alien's poor relation.

While the storyline is a little underpowered, it's so packed with vinyl gems (Edwin Starr, The Salvadores, Frankie Valli) that Northern Soul fans will be doing backdrops in the aisles.

More than a fascinating misfire, it’s a rare and telling glimpse into a legendary filmmaker’s fiercely guarded soul.

Brings a lump to the throat without resorting to emotional manipulation. Deserves an A for effort.

This documentary feels too stuffed and not insightful enough to be the definitive article — but few skinny-jeans-wearing Millennials will be able to watch without getting nostalgic.