A strong cast and impressive action sequences can’t find subtleties or surprises to enliven a rote period disaster movie. It hits the right points, but mechanically.

Throw in the blatant signposting of every plot turn and mood shift, and what could have been a gripping tale becomes hammy and overdone.

It's hard to believe that a bunch of scrappy kids would really be scared of a big dog, which leaves the premise of this film floundering. However the kids prove to be plucky enough to give the film some kind of motivation but the direction lacks in humour or excitement.

Running at just over four hours, it is as spectacular, lush and extravagant as the studio would have liked its audience to believe. But it also has moments of mind-numbing boredom as the plot,– slowed by extraneous dialogue, drags from Egypt to Rome.

Strays slightly from the formula and therefore loses some of its mindless fun credentials.

It’s an audacious swing — but ultimately a miss from a pair of filmmakers who know exactly what they want to say, and haven’t yet mastered how best to say it.

Interesting misfires from Wong Kar-wai and Steven Soderbergh barely manage to atone for the seedy muddle concocted by eightysomething Michelangelo Antonioni, who mocks his own reputation for existential ellipsis with his voyeuristic vignette.

Some sparks of comedy and fun but largely a flat and unrewarding comedy.

Although it flickers to life at times, King Arthur: Legend Of The Sword devolves into a jumbled affair, weighed down by confusing supernatural elements and a lazy reliance on visual effects.

In spite of a catalogue of downsides, including clunky dialogue, fuzzy morals and preposterous story lines, G.I. Jane does offer a perverse level of enjoyment.

23 Walks is romance of the gentlest kind. Steadman and Johns are likeable but the writing doesn’t deliver characters that compel and convince. But for dog lovers, it’s pooch porn.

Pfeiffer's performance supersedes any of the material, but the rest of the film is a seething mass of clich's despite the "true story" origins.

One of the most talk driven summer flicks in living memory, an out of sorts Howard transforms what should be a fun treasure trail romp into something inert and borderline dreary.

There's some likable energy to the performances and a strong soundtrack, but the lack of sustained dancing make this more of a nostalgic fantasy than a proper musical, whereas 'Shagging' itself seems far too complicated to catch on.

A mushy mix of sentiment and some off-key singing lets the air out of this beloved musical's limo tires.

It Is In Us All is slight, sombre, and something of a slog, but features another strong turn from Cosmo Jarvis – and is still a positive indication of Campbell-Hughes’ potential behind the camera.

Union is committed and convincing, but the script apparently never met a cliche it didn't want to adopt wholesale. This offers some thrills and considerable pace, but never enough narrative force.

Armour-clanging, cloak-swishing tosh with okay battles, terrible dialogue and sadly little horror or heroism. Nowhere near as bad as I, Frankenstein – but what is?

Critiquing the very thing it also sets out to do, Genie is the movie equivalent of a dog chasing its own tail, but is (barely) saved from the wrapping-paper pile by the amiable chemistry of its stars.

Although the vocal performances often amuse and delight, the overall design is charmless.

Further complicating the already indecipherable lore of the first film, The Boss Baby 2: Family Business is nice to look at but unfunny, unengaging and unintelligible. May it grow up soon.

Not even Halle Berry’s presence can enliven this stale sports film-family drama mash-up. By the end of it, the barrage of clichés leaves you black and blue.

Slick but forgettable, Fuqua’s suicide squad is a macho posse movie that could use a jab of fun. It’s The Magnificent Seven, but the “magnificent” is silent.

Captures the brash boldness of the novel, but not the literary wit. A misguided affair.

It looks attractive, and is enlivened somewhat by the soundtrack's obligatory disco dinosaurs, but those expecting any real insight into the 70s club scene will come away hugely disappointed.

Stone's film could have allowed political voices that are rarely present to get a fair, and critical hearing. Instead he near smooches them to death.

There’s a little bit more polish this time, but for all the talented people involved, Let There Be Carnage still has the whiff of a turd in the wind. 

For crying out loud, Marcus -- all you had to do was have Vikings fight Indians! How hard was that?