Slipping into insanity right alongside its protagonist, Smile is an uncommonly sharp movie deviously disguising itself as more of the same. Lowering our defences with the appearance of the commonplace may be its most wicked move of all.

There’s quite a lot to digest, and not all of it goes down easy, but it’s hard to fault Strickland’s ambition and imagination.

Inu-Oh plays out as if it is a modern version of a song by an itinerant musician, relating a blend of history and folklore to us in terms we can understand.

Haapasalo uses warmth, respect and empathy as her modus operandi, allowing her trio to wade through the liminal cusp of adulthood – no longer teenagers, yet not quite young adults – as they search for meaning through friendships, fleeting situationships, and budding romantic connections.

The film doesn’t have the detail or imagination to fill in the gaps of a well-worn story with anything convincing.

This is another subtle jewel, wise and charming, insouciant yet measured, and somehow squaring the circle between the overwhelming sadness of lost time and the glint of eternity in a passing instant.

What’s most exciting about Dominik’s vision is that it pieces together the most famous images of Monroe to create a collage that pays homage to her ultimate unknowability.

Pugh has precious little to do as Alice, who is less a character and more a series of strung-together cliches, but her hardest challenge is performing opposite the vacant Harry Styles, whose acting is so stiff and self-conscious it’s impossible to take him seriously, much less believe this is a character capable of the things eventually revealed in the film’s comically predictable twist.

In its third act the film falters a little, tailing off rather than coming to a conclusion – this could be a result of first feature teething problems, as at a svelte 85 minutes Funny Pages verges on feeling unfinished. Nevertheless, Zolghadri is a compelling lead, striving for maturity and authenticity when the safety and comfort of his parents’ house is but a short drive away.

Stylistic absurdity, on-the-nose satire, delightful gore and ruminations on the abject monstrous feminine provide a great formula that elevates Hatching, while the outstanding camera work, lighting, detailed production design and sharp editing make the film all the more impressive.

There’s a sense that Smyth’s writing only works in fits and starts, and all the fractured elements don’t ever quite fit together.

Cronenberg’s latest feels more like a late-in-the-day course correction than a victory lap. It’s a self reflexive film, yes, but it isn’t self-congratulatory.

It’s passable as a mildly amusing twist on the slasher genre, but its lack of strong identity or coherent thesis means there’s little that sticks in the mind after the credits role, and ultimately does a disservice to its crop of talented stars.

There was never a question of whether this would be a great movie, but the pleasant surprise is that it is, in fact, a very great one.

Failing to capture the wit or intelligence of Christie, See How They Run instead relies on tired stereotypes about women and gay men, and in an ensemble full of talented actors, there’s barely a compelling performance to be found.

There will be many people for whom it is love at first sight, and people in whom it provokes a wild allergic reaction.

Long takes, discursive monologues, slow pans and stylistic shifts allow the directors to forge an inventive cinematic language out of political consciousness; one that eschews the narrative codes of Western cinema, as it blends fiction and documentary, immersion and observation, to provide a multilayered embodiment of marginalised womanhood in contemporary Brazil.

Logan’s no stranger to horror, having co-written the bleakly riveting Alien Covenant, but based off They/Them, you’d be excused for thinking he held nothing but contempt and dismissal for the genre.

This is French-British rising star Mackey’s first screen role in French, and she’s charismatic enough to make future French-language features centred on her seem enticing. That said, as engaging as she is, her casting simultaneously embodies the sloppiness of the film as a whole.

It’s compulsively watchable hokum, sometimes earnest, sometimes daft, but always trying to reach beyond its grasp. And there’s no reason why Emelonye wouldn’t make the transition from Nollywood to Hollywood in the next decade or so.

Grab a summer dress, listen to Bette Davis Eyes, and set your heart on the attractive woman dancing in front of you – within is a sure hit of seductive satisfaction.

Arbitrary continuity errors, heavy-handed symbolism, an agonisingly laborious pace and shallow characterisation leave a sour taste in the mouth, especially as the payoff is not gruesome enough to justify the means that get us there.

Mr. Malcolm’s List isn’t reinventing the Regency wheel, but like any good end-of-summer fling, it is a pleasurable experience that ticks every box — while not outstaying its welcome.

Even though the film is packed with belly laughs, it is never spiteful or denigratory, and always appears thankful for the fact that pampered artists can produce miracles if they’re given the time and resources to do so.

Beast doesn’t reinvent the wheel when it comes to animal survival films, but it’s free enough of fat and frills to warrant a watch in the theatrical dog days of summer.

Considering McDonagh’s previous writing form, you’re left expecting some subversion or commentary on this overused device – but it never comes.

It’s in the writing where this one shines. Less in the moment-by-moment dialogue between characters, which is functional to a tee, and more in the way in which the clever plot is constructed and vital details are gradually teased out.

Each time Fuhrman is obviously switched out or Julia Stiles is clearly stood on a box the B-movie hokeyness is utterly hilarious. That fun is only enhanced by the complete seriousness with which each actor is performing their part, particularly the cat-and-mouse duologues that Stiles and Fuhrman practically spit at each other.