Decidely average teen drama but with a few decent dance numbers.

It just scrapes two stars on the strength of Wilson’s best efforts. But for God’s sake, someone give this man a sparring partner.

The kids and Caine are good, but this lacks the magic of its source novel(s). Younger children may enjoy it, but its attempts to entertain older viewers mostly fall flat.

Howell makes the least convincing black guy ever, his eventual contrition feels hollow and forced — much like the laughs.

There is scarcely a laugh to be had unless you are six years old or immoderately fond of such wheezes as depositing dog poop on a white carpet.

The CG does its part of the bargain, but even more than the brighter, breezier original this is a pale imitation of Potter.

At barely 70 minutes long, this still manages to stammer and stall between the meaningless atrocities. It's time this series met Abbott and Costello.

Herrington stages his action efficiently enough - the opening car chase manages to put a couple of spins on a hackneyed cinema staple - but is let down by his own script which seems to have been hanging around in the water so long it's become bloated.

With Eastern Promises and Dirty Pretty Things, screenwriter Steven Knight has proved his ear for London's darker rhythms. Here, though, there's little to raise the pulse.

In the world of Mob Land, nothing good lasts. Disappointingly, despite the cast’s best efforts and a few striking visual flourishes, nothing good lasts in the film itself either.

All along, of course, we are supposed to realise they're made for each other, except that that's a little hard to swallow when there's so little chemistry between them.

It's just too tempting to dismiss it as extremely long and incredibly disappointing. It's challenging, divisive and has moments of beauty but leaves you cold.

Life stinks, Brooks' character stinks and the film, after all the Brooks magic in the past, stinks.

It's hard to care about the characters in this defiantly downbeat drama.

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.

Eyre’s all-star cast may shine in Allelujah, but even Dame Judi Dench can’t save a film whose third act so spectacularly nosedives into “Batshit-Craziest Story Choices Ever Put On Film Hall Of Fame” territory.

Clever premise, witless execution.

Good fun in places, but dull for the most part, Violent Night is serviceable Christmas viewing. It’s a shame, because with such a fun riff on the Santa story, it should’ve been good for goodness sake!

Messy and unlikeable.

An all-too conventional look at an unconventional man, Big George Foreman is, alas, a swing and a miss.

This is a feel good movie which is too mechanically put together to make you feel anything.

An all-star lineup with some kookie moments, but a bit limp overall.

Another to airbrush out of the De Niro back catalogue.

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

Another thriller absent of any real thrills.

As the bodies pile up amongst this testy crowd of horny teens, there remains a vacant hole were someone scary should be. In a strange way, this film stands unique amongst all slasher films as one where the killer is nearly intangible.

Parker has a sensitive approach to the crise d'amour, but his lacklustre leading ladies contribute to an uneven tone.

Sadly, Donald Trump hasn’t quite found his Leni Riefenstahl: this is a film too embarrassed to be what it is. And shorn of capes and costumes, vigilantism is pretty ugly. Though Roth’s gift for the gruesome gives it a small voyeuristic appeal.