A strange, mostly enjoyable mix of big political questions and crude comedy, Zohan overcomes its skeletal plotting and uneven gag ratio through Sandler?s sheer commitment to nonsense.

Gloopy family drama meets Hollywood cod-spirituality in a movie that’s defeated by its over-ambitious scope.

If you enjoy Gondry’s brand of homemade art direction then there’s plenty to delight early on, but it’s all wallpaper.

Part Alien, part Gravity, just not as good as either of them. But Life whips along at a decent pace and deploys enough engaging action sequences to make it work.

Even the slightest wisp of critical thought will bring the house-of-cards plot tumbling down, but avoid thinking too much and it’s a frothy, sun-drenched bit of fun.

A surreal, endlessly creepy exploration of love and desire, with a terrific turn from Tatiana Maslany, makes for an exciting and unpredictable departure in Osgood Perkins’ oeuvre.

For a movie that has dark in its title, and which is — yes! — darker (people die, Asgard is grimier, as befitting Alan Taylor’s Game Of Thrones heritage), Thor 2.0 is consistently amusing.

An old-fashioned, B-movie creature-feature with some CG gloss. Beast is as predictable as anything but it’s a fun, silly, well-made film about a man punching a big cat.

Though its core concept is executed well, Black Crab’s dour tone, shallow writing and derivative plot-beats make for a movie experience that leaves you as cold as the ice its characters are forced to skate on.

Well played across the board, The Riot Club is an entertaining glimpse into the dark side of privilege. Yet it lacks the richness and insight to be anything more.

A fun blend of scares and sentiment, this largely justifies a lengthy run time with effective frights and a valedictory feel. Just don’t watch it before trying to clear out the attic.

Arnie's toe-dip back into the action-cinema pool is a daft bit of fluff rather than a bruising mission statement. Get through the plot and you'll be rewarded with 30 minutes of whirligig mayhem.

The Kids Are All Right writer Stuart Blumberg's first directorial effort is a frothy affair with typically strong turns from Ruffalo and Paltrow.

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.

Billie Piper’s ambitious, darkly funny directorial debut suggests the arrival of a new filmmaker with a vision, verve and a voice.

Some summer anti-programming arrives in the form of a highly talky, at times upsetting prison drama — think Fortress meets Limitless. You can feel the strain of its expansion from novella form, but it’s just about worth a visit.

Snyder’s Justice League is an entertaining if overlong superhero flick in its own right. If this is the last DC film Snyder directs, it’s a satisfactory exit.

Breathing new life into the overfamiliar terrain of the serial killer, Irish director Billy O’Brien here both successfully reintroduces Max Records to the world, and elicits Christopher Lloyd’s best performance in a long time. His film deserves cult classic status at the very least.

A step back from the last film in terms of ambition, this nevertheless continues the series’ chirpy, amiable mood. Nothing to be po-faced about here.

Much more than a tits and arse farce, this is an enjoyable, if lightweight effort.

An auspicious debut for Scott, but one whose ingredients are too familiar to really fizz. Green is great, though, in a dark-tinged role that plays to her strengths.

A few memorable scenes but this doesn't keep up the pace or plausability sufficiently.

Entrapment ambles lazily through its set-up and features only one (admittedly impressive) stretch of white-knuckle daredevilry as our heroes dangle off the tallest building in the world (which is in Kuala Lumpur, incidentally).

Half "GoodFellas," half "Dreamgirls," Jersey Boys is an appealing take on a grit-to-glamour biopic. What it ultimately fails to do, though, is convince.

Handsome, well-mounted but dull, dull, dull.

Ultimately, Hidalgo falls down due to a neglect of basic story elements -- anonymous villains, a hero with no clear goal other than money, love interests who sound alternately gin-sodden and lobotomised -- and after a brief burst of energy staggers home at a mild limp.

If you can see beyond the eye-scorching neon and don't mind the desecration of a superhero icon, there's a few crumbs of enjoyment to be had.

A beautiful, exotic and well-acted cultural hybrid, but it’s never as moving as it ought to be.