Sloppy crime epic.

Hill remains a master of action pieces and is even director enough to get strong performances from his bunch of dressed-up pop stars. But this supposed sure-fire thriller, from a script that was called The Looters until the L.A. riots got in the way, fizzles like a Molotov cocktail with a soggy fuse.

Covers disappointingly predictable territory for an actor of Ford's skills and reputation.

With so many high standing peers (both contemporary and classic), it just doesn't have the muscle or the nous to make an impression.

The humour, when it comes, is on a par with Reitman's Ghosbusters, but the film feels, rather than the solid comedy it is, like a massive missed opportunity.

Apart from a couple of nice touches - like a faked orgasm scene that's almost as off the wall as the one in When Harry Met Sally - mark this firmly in 'Should Have Been Better'.

Gothika never delivers anything more than the occasional, cynically engineered jolt and often drifts close to provoking giggles.

Lopez throws everything at this, but even major movie-star charisma can’t make up for the recycled story elements, tired exposition and endless psycho-babble. Maybe the machines can take over and do better.

WALL•E director Andrew Stanton weaves together three different stories across three different eras of human history. The result is a streaming epic as painfully sappy as it is structurally ambitious.

Nine years on from the first movie but somehow the effects have gone backwards and the charm has gone missing.

Despite an inherently cinematic story and some effective sequences, Escape From Pretoria struggles to transcend a clunky, one-dimensional script.

Greater drama and prehistorical weight are to found in the earlier Quest For Fire or the BBC's Walking With Cavemen, and without so much as a trailer for extras, this feels like a relic.

Where Gambon made the perfect misanthrope, Downey doesn't quite fit the role. Astonishingly, despite his drug-related crimes and misdemeanours, he actually seems too innocent to be so crabby and vile.

Too glossy to evoke real sexual tension or, more crucially in this genre, fear, Laura Mars suffers from the over complication of something so simple as serial killing.

Tense and occasionally disturbing, but somehow you’re left with the nagging suspicion that what should have been a meaty psychological drama has been turned into a slightly insipid thriller instead.

Despite a strong cast, promising premise and a timely attempt to explore male neurosis, Swimming With Men is let down by slight characterisation, by-the-numbers plotting and heavy-handed jokes that desperately need arm bands.

Crazy, Stupid, Love writer Dan Fogelman can't rebottle lightning with a humdrum comedy that doesn't play to its stars strengths.

Slickly produced but seriously stupid, Tournament Of Champions won’t exactly have you running for the exits — but your brain cells might not escape the room intact.

A so-so animated adventure that can’t ever find a compelling story to tell despite a few catchy songs and some colourful design. Maybe some dead things should stay buried.

Unfortunately, half the time this feels more like an Omen parody than a chance to give it a great send off.

The predictable plot and gags make you feel like you’re watching it in cat-years, but there are a few successfully silly set-pieces that will delight kids.

Judged by any rational standards, Rumble is absolute bollocks, but it at least has some pretty darned amazing Chan fight scenes.

Unlikely to win over those who remember the lush vistas and Montalban-powered original, nor appeal much to teens looking for a horror-filled night at the movies, Fantasy Island is distinctly sub-par filmmaking full of clichés and lacking in real entertainment value. No one would call this their ultimate fantasy.

A comic thriller that isn’t especially funny or particularly exciting, The Family Plan is an overlong slog that struggles to make use of its game cast.

Almost palatable, with some fast-moving stunts but dreadful dialogue.

Despite its aspirations to big-screen scares, this delivers more kitsch than a truckload of glow-in-the-dark skeletons.

Moonfall is precisely what you’d expect a film called Moonfall to be: deeply, defiantly, sometimes exasperatingly daft. It’s Roland Emmerich on apocalypse-autopilot.