Easily the third-best Terminator film, which is more of a compliment than it sounds. It’s great to have Hamilton back in this role, but she’s ably matched by Reyes and Davis.

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 must be hard for actresses as unconventional and gutsy as Weaver and Hunter to find scripts worth making. Although this offers them both meaty parts with plentiful neuroses and snappy lines, it is otherwise a completely mechanical load of old cods.

Good fun, but O'Nan doesn't take this film nearly as far as it could go, leaving the plot and its characters somewhat two-dimensional in their obvious stereotyping.

A well-put together team performance, with enough in-jokes and self-effacement to steer clear of any detours into bad taste.

Like LaBute's best work, this tense drama is not for all tastes, but anyone game to watch two effortlessly volatile and vulnerable performers trade barbs for 83 minutes ought to give this due consideration.

It’s hard not to get swept up in some evocative, gorgeously staged filmmaking here. But Empire Of Light often seems a little confused about what it is trying to achieve.

There is some nice insight into cycling-team practices, but overall The Racer lacks sufficient nuance, specificity and originality to nab the yellow jersey.

Considering the ignominy of its path to British cinemas, it’s hard not to approach the film with caution, but after a few minutes in the company of an unusually low-key but typically world-weary Al Pacino, it begins to win you over, dragging you deeper into the sleazy political underworld it describes.

The romance between Knowles and her leading man doesn't quite spark, and cutting 30 minutes wouldn't have hurt, but Saturday night disposable fluff is rarely as warm-hearted or exuberant as this.

Schumacher is never quite smart enough to keep the debate neutral, and the unrestrained hero worship at the close leaves a nasty taste.

John Woo’s first American film in 20 years is not the filmmaker at his peak — but it has its moments, with energetically filmed action enough to distract from a melodramatic tone and sometimes silly concept.

Not a masterpiece, by any stretch of the imagination, but it's pleasing to see a sequel strive so hard to reach the same heights. That it fails is through no fault of its own - the original simply raised the bar too high.

It’s a lesser Jarmusch, yes — but it’s still a Jarmusch.

Red Dawn is at once a mainstream shoot ‘em up action picture and an ideologically demented exercise in American paranoia.

Derrickson bounces back from his insipid redo of "The Day The Earth Stood Still" with an effective chiller that's got a skeleton or two in its closet.

While it meanders on its way to the requisite happy ending, the lush, stylised animation and courtly flourishes would win over anyone.

Sadly Lewis lite and not without flaws but this is as Burtonesque as one could wish for, a real treat for fans of his twisted imagination and great British character actors.

An enjoyable World War II spy flick, Munich: The Edge Of War scores with strong performances and filmmaking craft, but is let down by a lack of dramatic heft. A Father’s Day watch in waiting.

This spectacular adventure sometimes wanders across the borders of invention into artificiality, but finds its feet when it focuses in on its characters and their relationships.

Arnie still swings that sword with aplomb, but with a story this ludicrous, he's on slippery ground.

Statham is as gruffly convincing as he usually is (though it’s 20 minutes before he’s even allowed to kick any ass), but the action scenes are horribly inconsistent: fine in the hand-to-hand stuff, sloppy elsewhere.

This is not a perfect film, but it handles the important stuff — abuse, trauma and recovery — unexpectedly well. If its reception is anything like the book’s, it will be a powerful vessel for people with similar stories of their own.

Lacking the boldness of originality and substantial character development, The Artist’s Wife nonetheless showcases Olin’s best performance in years and a brittle brilliance from Dern.

It suffers from ADD, but there's some terrific stuff in here. Leaving 15 minutes from the end and saving yourself a lumbering coda may improve enjoyment.

A powerful story about father and sons, told by a father and son. At once a showcase for a monumental talent, and the arrival of an exciting new one.

Prisoners Of The Ghostland is by turns brilliant and rubbish. Cage is in his element, it has visual invention to spare, and the fight scenes are fun, but it’s a shame such imagination is tethered to equally all-over-the-place storytelling.

Anne Hathaway delivers another likeable performance in a tweenie treat that has enough smarts to keep older viewers engaged, too.