It's no "Battlefield Earth," but it's no "Dune" either. And, no, before you ask, it's not destined to be a cult classic.

It’s funny, wonderfully performed by all, visually inventive.

Cute and friendly enough, but for anyone over eight, not recommended.

As long as you don't mind making fun of the afflicted, there are some killer comic moments.

Azkaban contains both the longest denouement and the most rousing finish of any of the books, and Cuarón wisely whips through the 'ah-hahs' so that the clever climax, complete with the series' best SFX, can enjoy its moment in the moonlight.

What makes this such an affecting picture is the contrast between the wonderfully aloof camels and the interdependence of the extended family, whose smiling resilience only hints at the harshness of an existence that has changed little in centuries.

What it covers is so fundamentally relevant, and its polemic so persuasively structured, it’s worth braving the runtime even if it could easily have been more concise.

Everybody is good at one thing, they say; for Emmerich, it's destruction.

This plays very much like a standard biopic, lacking the dangerous spirit of the movie that inspired it.

It starts off very sprightly and witty and maintains a high giggle-count throughout.

Top marks to Joan Cusack for her excellent supporting turn; commiserations to John Corbett as one-dimensional objet désir Pastor Dan -- unhappily saddled with the most tragic line to reach mainstream film for years.

An uncomfortable, if intriguing, mess.

Remains hilarious throughout.

Bruising battles and some stirring performances make Troy enjoyable, if rather long. But if audiences can forgive the camp, they'll still struggle to empathise with the characters.

Steve Coogan and Alfred Molina deliver a terrific meditation on insincere actors.

Beautifully photographed by Mark Lee (who also co-shot Wong Kar-Wai's In The Mood For Love), and delicately played by an untried cast, this confirms Tian as the Fifth Generation's unsung master.

Separately the characters are annoying; together it’s unnervingly like watching one actress playing twins.

The result reaches overload very quickly, squandering the potentially cool premise in a headlong assault of set-piece over story.

It’s a hugely enjoyable descent into epic gluttony.

You'd think it'd be hilarious. Think again.

Godsend is based on an intriguing premise. Sadly, it's mangled into an Omen-lite disaster area, thanks to a script torn between making a moral point about cloning and cheap shocks.

The film seldom raises itself above the level of pleasant. And pleasant ain't sophisticated, and it certainly ain't sexy.

Despite its shortcomings -- it’s still one of the better teen movies to come along in a while.

The relationship between Ada and Eka is beautifully written and utterly believable, while the film's central idea of compassionate deception allows Bertucelli to explore the nature of love, culminating in the film's masterful and deeply affecting ending.

There's atmosphere and absurd wit, but the surreal style creates a distance from the characters that's only likely to be appreciated by fans of Maddinís self-conscious artistry.

If there's a criticism to be made, it's that the script doesn't push itself far enough with the moments in which it excels.

By no means perfect - a twist in the tale overextends its already lengthy running time - but it is terrific fun.

As it is, it’s an aloof conclusion, an unclimactic climax to a stand-alone film.