Though it plays like a glitzy musical in the mould of Bohemian Rhapsody, Elvis also works as a much-needed lesson about America’s cultural history.

Lovers of the currently unfashionable historical epic, however, mostly aren’t eager to see Napoleon for the love story at its core. What they want is a battle – blood and thunder writ large. On this front, there’s little in modern cinema to equal what Scott and his team manage.

It’s sometimes funny and emotionally effective when it counts, but also very, very dark, with some of the grimmest scenes of any Marvel movie.

True, Becoming Led Zeppelin is never going to do anything but celebrate, given it’s an authorised take on the band. But there’s warmth and good humour here.

If you loved Gladiator, it’s odds-on you’ll enjoy this too. It’s got all of the same exciting bits – swordfighting, rousing speeches, nasty poshos getting what they deserve. The problem is that’s all it gives you. You want to feel like you’re watching Maximus lift off his helmet and deliver that iconic monologue for the first time again. You want the thrill of a core memory being unlocked. You want to know you’ll be quoting Mescal’s lines to your mates in the pub for the next 10 years. Gladiator 2, piously respectful as it is, can only offer a faded memory of that experience. There was a dream that was Rome – and this is kind of it.

It makes you wonder whether a documentary series may well have been a better option – even if the movie makes for a moving and amusing recap of Maiden’s incredible legacy.

There’s something undeniably impressive about the whole enterprise, in which Lanthimos has found the perfect co-conspirators: Plemons’ ambiguous quality suits his opaque stories, while Stone’s charisma warms the edges of his chilly filmmaking. The result is a singular, freaky challenge that’s definitely worth accepting.

A deeply sad movie about thwarted love, The History of Sound is essential viewing.

Combining spectacular effects work with a surprisingly provocative script, it’s a superbly made sci-fi adventure that delivers plenty of robo-thrills.

Dawn Of The Nugget might have a bit too much Netflix polish in places, and the spark of the original film doesn’t ever burn as brightly here, but there’s still a lot to love about a family film pitched for the post-Christmas dinner funk that’s all about the horrors of the poultry industry.

Neville’s film is so forward-thinking, it’s easy to forgive the more superficial aspects of the production.

In a way, it’s a shame the film ends with a basic boilerplate listing Lopez’s record sales, box office receipts and social media following. By this point, Halftime has done more than enough to show us that its subject is very much the real deal.

The Beach Boys makes up for its narrative familiarity by exploring some of the lesser-known behind-the-scenes tidbits.

There’s no big twist to speak of, but this is a white-knuckle thrill ride that’s up there with Shyamalan’s most gripping work.

Maria is both winningly camp and a little too po-faced for its own good, apparently unsure if it’s meant to be tongue-in-cheek or deadly serious.

Saving the day this time isn’t Poirot, but the city itself which Branagh captures in all its decadently crumbling glory.

A perfunctory romantic subplot linking Andy to a bland property developer (Patrick Brammall) should have been edited out and the ending is perhaps a little too sentimental. But this is still a smart and satisfying sequel. The Devil Wears Prada 2 feels like a sleek update on a classic, not a cheap knock-off that falls apart in the wash.

It’s silly, giddy and a little bit disgusting – just what we want from Beetlejuice.

Watching Pine and Newton try and erotically spoon-feed each other bits of bacon while secretly trying to work out if they have to kill each other is more than enough to hang an entire film off. It’s just a shame the rest of the movie isn’t up to scratch.

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.

Sheryl is brisk but pretty comprehensive.

Almost completely built out of clichés and corn, there’s very little in Plane that hasn’t been seen before, but it very rarely matters. Exciting without ever really thrilling, it’s an immovably solid actioner – a fun Friday night pizza movie packing a handful of relentlessly unfussy action scenes that deliver exactly what they promise.

You’d be hard-pressed to call it moving, but at least there’s an emotional narrative that drags us through the grisly bits. Sick, dark and laugh-out-loud nuts.

The clarity, dynamism and sheer scale of the action is near enough unparalleled, and it’s hard to argue you don’t get your money’s worth. Still, Cameron is going to have to think outside the (Pandora’s) box and change the game for any future installments.

Robbie and Pitt still provide enough star-wattage to power most viewers to the end-credits. Babylon does babble on (sorry) past its natural conclusion, but what party ever ended when it was supposed to?

This is a horror that’s in love with scary movies; a post-modern remix of genre classics filmed through an arthouse gauze that never obscures its goofy sense of humour.

If this is a bookend to his incredible performing career, at least it’s a respectful and tender one.

As summer blockbusters go, it’s only ever really mildly diverting. But bringing us a first Latino superhero in a DC movie, ably played by the charming Maridueña, is still to be applauded.