If "Ichi The Killer" stressed the extreme natureof Takashi Miike's cinematic sensibility, Gozu hammers it home… with a blood-spattered mallet.

A great debut from a promising talent.

Andersen makes a far from inspiring guide, intoning his humourless points in a dry-as-powder monotone.

Undermined by a plot that doesn’t make sense and plays like three-and-a-half genre movies fighting for screentime in one overlong one.

The Bourne Supremacy builds on and exceeds the original, delivering, quite simply, one of the finest big-budget thrillers in years.

If "Spider-Man 2" is this summer's main comic-book-movie course, Catwoman is clearly the leftovers.

Still creepy, ooky, mysterious and spooky, but trying to follow the storylines is like sorting spaghetti.

If you're returning for more Donnie, you'll still have tears in your eyes come the sublime Mad World conclusion. If it's your first viewing, you should still be wowed by an astounding masterpiece. But this is undoubtedly the lesser of the two cuts, and since you have the choice, you should stick with version one.

This is simple, lazy storytelling rendered merely functional by appealing leads and the eternal lure of romantic fantasy.

The effects, arguably the best of the year, only add to the thrill.

Not for anyone with a sensitive gag reflex. Joshua Marston provides a harrowing depiction of drug- muling for dummies. The raw, revolting, dangerous details of such an undertaking are graphic.

This better-than-the-book adaptation casts quite a spell.

If it were any more manic you’d have to put it on Ritalin.

This is poorly shot, edited and scored, while any acting talent feels wasted.

Tautly scripted by director Per Fly and bullishly played, this is soap for the ciné-sophisticate.

An excruciating watch at times, the unflinching bluntness is captivating and somehow, despite their flaws, the group’s rock godhood is maintained.

This story is emblematic of the passion, obsession and solitary poetry of surfing.

Nothing aligns, nothing builds, and before you know it we’re hip-deep in the big showdown -- a free-wheeling frenzy of choreographed combat that neglects to find much space for the cast.

Fortunately, the fabulous songs, performed by scads of contemporary artists, provide some relief in an overlong, overdone portrait.

An intelligent, engagingly honest study of love lost and, just maybe, regained.

This summer's most satisfying, spectacle-packed movie. Like its predecessor, it offers a strong story rather than a feeble excuse to connect set-pieces.

Good-natured, old-fashioned family entertainment, but Two Brothers never quite manages to strike a successful balance between fantasy and reality.

Be warned - Damon isn't in this one.

Arguably not the most proficiently crafted film in Cannes this year and certainly not the most balanced, but Moore’s assault on the Bush administration is a terrific polemic.

Unpretentious, unsophisticated and all the better for it.

Far less cuddly than expected, this unusual and elegant movie may have failed to connect with US audiences but it proves Spielberg is currently the most unpredictable director in Hollywood.

Sokurov's use of space, religious symbolism and raw emotion compensate for any sense of exclusion.

Amused, maybe - but you won't be seduced.