Brilliant, but forgotten eighties cop epic with an astounding central turn from Williams.

Although AWIL's comedy/horror elements aren't always cosy bedfellows, the film retains its original, quirky charm. Great effects for the day, too.

That it is a cartoon that takes kids right out of the equation is the best recommendation of all.

Unoriginal, unfunny superhero spoof with a bewildered cast and an obvious plot.

Huston, showing admirable range in his old age, creates enough on-field magic and nostalgia for the beatiful game as an idyll of now-extinct sportsmanship, you can almost forgive the boss's choice of goalkeeper. Almost.

Crammed with wonderful De Palma showboating and a wonderfully crackpot turn from John Lithgow as a right-wing loon.

But O'Keeffe, as Tarzan, has the best part: he never says a word, unless you count 'Aaa-awaa-awaa'. His visual presence is striking enough: Bjorn Borg's head bolted on to Arnold Schwarzenegger's body.

While Dudley's booze-sodden antics tire after a while, there's relief in the form of John Gielgud as the old-fashioned English butler with a nice line in four-letter words, and a return to the screen from Liza Minelli, who plays the waitress Arthur falls in love with.

Boasting one of the most iconic characters ever in Plissken, and an effective sci-fi set-up, this is entertainment of the highest order.

While the backgrounds and animation are wonderful, the film suffers from an intensely depressing middle section, full of heart-stopping chases, damaged friendships and forgettable songs more likely to invoke fidgets than sniffles among the younger contingent in the audience.

Moore just looks confused. He obviously wants to do his thing then hit the bar for cocktails, but John Glen is nagging him to add a roughness to the slick exterior. Equally, it just doesn’t fit. The news is clear, there’s only so far you can push a Bond before it breaks.

Murray's initial transition from the small screen is a classic.

An unknown treasure of a fantasy film and well worth a look for fans of the genre.

Manages to gain classic comic book feature status through a combination of great stunts and a great human angle.

What saves the movie is its relaxed sense of self-awareness. Reynolds all but winks at the audience with his collection of Dick Dastardly sneaks and dodges, but holds onto that winning, hangdog warmth that got him to the top of the pile in the seventies.

It may not be as good as the material it's sourcing, but it's still fun to see so many faces from the genre in one place.

This gritty sci-fi is undeservedly neglected and underrated.

The best thing about this is Tom Savini's superb, uncensored special effects.

Yes, Rick Baker won the Oscar a year down the line for his American Werewolf In London FX. And, yes, they are staggering. But it is Rob Bottin's work here (with inflatable air bags under a latex "skin" and a pioneering "hydraulic snout") that is — and ever shall be — the pinnacle of mutation effects. Amen.

A well observed and deeply tender tale.

Both leads excel at showing a true feeling (be it love or lust) but both covered in the guilty angst that one will betray the other. Edge of your seat stuff.

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

Eichhorn, who should have had a much bigger career, is luminous as the sad-eyed heroine, while Heard pulls off the showy role - especially in a climax that finds him rampaging through a posh party at the Cord estate in search of justice.

Not one to let slow-building tension and mystery get in the way of wild flourishes of extremism and shock, Ken Russell hit upon a story that more or less handled his structural excesses and tendency toward blasphemy.

About the dumbest movie Clint Eastwood ever put his name to.

Insufferably long, but very good in parts.

This campy extravaganza has it all - heroes, villains, beautiful women and high stakes. Laughably bad and fantastically good all at once, this is a guilty pleasure that everyone can enjoy.

In depicting the Johnson County War of 1892 (immigrants versus cattle barons), Michael Cimino delivers soaring ambition and scale, but always syringed with a deep sense of regret.