In its search for the personality behind the creator of one of cinema’s most famous comic characters, The Real Charlie Chaplin too often lapses into dreary convention, despite flashes of brilliance in its use of archive footage.

Lightly humorous, well performed and not nearly as smutty as you might imagine. The earth may not move, but there are tingles of pleasure along the way.

A strikingly odd and original debut that is admirable for taking the triple-threat of suicide, depression and addiction in its nonchalant stride, although the confusing presentation of separate timelines mutes the overall impact.

Although evidently a rip-off — there were hints of Lucas even taking the matter to the courts — this spacebound wagon train, whose limits are readily apparent, is great fun.

The Year Of The Matrix will be remembered as an indulgence for fans, while the original movie will be affectionately held as a separate entity by a bigger crowd, much as the original "Star Wars" trilogy hasn't really been tainted by divisions over Episodes I and II.

Undemanding, observant and beautifully performed, this is Richard Curtis-lite with added reassurance: no challenging questions here.

A documentary of two halves, Gibney's character study of Armstrong is tough and forensic. But whether through a lingering admiration or the film's origins as a straightforward celebration of the cyclist's talents, there are moments when its powder remains a little dryer than perhaps it should.

Just as the film captures a world (Imperialism, hunting, colonialism) that has faded away, so this film feels like one of the last of it's kind.

As a barrel of easy, unsophisticated laughs, Kingpin delivers in spades.

Frantic is Polanski's most satisfying film since Chinatown, and one of the best traditional thrillers to come down the pike in quite some time.

It's a surprise to see Wim Wenders embracing 3D in its full, feature-length glory but the medium works well to capture the graceful swirl of the German choreographer's work.

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.

Herzog’s planted rather too firmly in his discomfort zone, but Bale once again confirms himself as one of our most intense, committed and watchable actors.

An ambitious documentary on one of the most intriguing, frightening phenomena of our time. The attempt to cover every aspect of a broad topic results in an intriguing if slightly disjointed watch.

Not quite a flawless victory, but a solid win all the same. Any future follow-ups would do well to give us an actual Mortal Kombat tournament to enjoy.

There's a heartwarming quality that softens the hardcore setting but this does lack an assured, er, hand.

This is unlikely to win Kathryn Lansky's antipodean owl fantasy any new fans, but even the bemused (and confused) can luxuriate in some grand-scale visual storytelling.

Despite the striking photography, this fascinating denunciation of 150 years of persecution and oppression lacks Guzmán's customary trenchancy and restraint.

A quality production, with awards-bid performances from Bale and Affleck to prove it... but, as signalled by the curiously unmemorable title, it flounders while trying to come up with a story to embody the things it wants to say about the sorry state of modern America. Worth seeing, but a near-miss.

Cinematography, production design and music are all top-notch, but the film largely succeeds because of the leads -- two fine actors at the top of their game.

A compelling curio from Werner Herzog, who investigates a strange real-life phenomenon through a fictional lens. It's worth watching, especially if you enjoy Herzog's lateral take on life, but it's hard not to wish he'd just made it as a straight documentary.

It's just so unremarkable. Which, considering its director's monumental output (both good and bad) is, frankly, a bit depressing.

A sometimes whimsical and magical take on the life of one of Britain’s most artistically charged rock stars. Serkis shines in his role as the troubled singer.

Warm and heartfelt performances from the two principals are undercut by a formula that too readily reveals the outcome. Interesting workings fail to fully add up. Must do better next term.

As Lowe systematically dismantles Spader's antiseptic existence, Hanson and writer David Koepp handle the thriller plot well, with Lowe effective as the plastically beautiful but deeply dangerous bad influence of the title.

A sequel nobody needed, and very few demanded, but one that is nice to have anyway. Very daft and very childish and mostly very funny.

Though The Man In My Basement juggles a few too many ideas, Nadia Latif has crafted an unnerving thriller with dynamite performances from leads Willem Dafoe and Corey Hawkins. 

Typically paper thin, the plot and the morality are blown away by the charms of the leading man and a soundtrack that has been hand-picked to get an audience on side. Unadulterated silliness, but harmless fun.