Final Destination Bloodlines is even more self-aware than its predecessors, with hugely enjoyable results.

Spaeny is superb as Priscilla, making you feel every painful aspect of her emotional journey, from infatuation and initial confusion through to heartbreak and finally self-discovery. Similarly, Elordi makes a terrific Elvis.

At times, [Peele] seems to imply that comedy and horror are both ways of processing the perverse mysteries of the world—and looking at things we shouldn’t be looking at. This also makes Nope a film that rewards repeat watching.

What makes this fifth film the best of the franchise is its tense, paranoid latter half.

It’s not a film for everyone, especially if you’re craving fast-moving action. But for Poe fans, it’s a grisly treat.

Saltburn isn’t the most talked-about party of the year, but you shouldn’t miss it all the same.

Stahelski may traffic in excess, but at least he understands it: how choreography, performance and style can make over-the-top spectacle cohere into pleasurably overwhelming action fizz, rather than congealing into a sweaty special effects overload.

It’s a beautifully constructed and emotionally engaging tale that’s constantly surprising.

Vortex might act as a balm to some viewers who see themselves in this quietly tragic family portrait. But, if you’ve ever had even the smallest existential fear of growing older and dying, or watching this happen to people you love, tread carefully around this one.

What results is a film that both works as a finely-tuned thriller and a meditation on the Church’s place in today’s society.

This could easily have smacked of trying too hard, but Johnstone really seems to have pulled it off.

Its rich tone of regret, guilt and unspoken malice comes across in careful direction from Tim Mielants, Frank van den Eeden’s shadowy cinematography and subtle, measured performances across the board.

Aftersun may be small in scale, but it leaves a distinct and lasting impression. No question, it’s the best British movie this year.

Superbly marshalled by Gray, the ensemble cast is excellent – though if you had to pick a stand-out, it’d be Hopkins, as the kindly-but-principled grandfather. He casts a huge shadow over the film, a moral compass for all to follow.

As a meditation on depression, anxiety and touring, Anonymous Club isn’t just valuable viewing for Barnett’s die-hard fans, though they will no doubt cherish this film which captures the artist at her most open, outside of her music. For the first time, we’re invited into the club.

It’s not a naive film, but rather a hopeful one. Despite a world where darkness lurks, there’s light at the end of this tunnel.

Swapping out historical accuracy for crowd-pleasing scenes of blood-curdling female empowerment, The Woman King is somewhat conventional as it plots its emotional beats, but it’s power comes from its rousing performances, especially Davis, who can knock a man dead with her stare, let alone her machete.

Garfield’s performance is a compassionate one, careful not to hide Larson’s vainer side but also presenting him sympathetically.

While it’s not quite the same as actually being there, Bono: Stories Of Surrender shines a new, personal light on his dramatic performance.

It’s a smart and stylish sequel that’s endlessly entertaining; but more than that, in the dumpster fire of 2020, Wonder Woman 1984 is a two hours of hope filled escapism – something all of us could do with right now.

It’s a shame the movie has such a goofy name, which throws a shroud over a powerful and unique cinematic experience.

Archer’s film always feels utterly unique. Looking as handmade as its loveable leads and carrying enough odd wit and subtle warmth to put the multiplex to shame, this is British indie cinema at its weird best. See it before it all falls apart at the seams.

Made with bubblegum bite by Jennifer Kaytin Robinson (writer on MTV’s Sweet/Vicious and Marvel’s Thor: Love And Thunder), the film takes its place in the cult yearbook with an ironic wink – dropping movie references as fast as it does one-liners.

The electricity effects are way too cheap, but otherwise Studio 666 would sweep up the Palm D’Gore at any horror flick festival with an ounce of rock ’n’ roll in its fiend-infested soul.

A road movie that really makes you think about the stops it makes, there is real pain inside this film; Eisenberg and his cast do well to ensure you’ll feel every moment of it.

It’s a rich character study that doesn’t sugarcoat the ageism Shelly faces, but also grants her a defiant sense of agency. Whatever you think of her choices, she’s lived life on her own terms.

While the narrative never quite makes peace in the way you would expect and does meander slightly off course, it seems Ross had no intention of a textbook crescendo.

Endlessly silly, and hampered by a lousy script, Fall somehow still manages to be almost unbearably tense – the equivalent of spending two hours watching those stomach-churning YouTube videos of mad freerunners hanging off tall buildings for fun.