Bristling with good ideas and two great performances, a rushed ending that dips into daftness ends up killing off what could have been a great pitch for an offbeat little TV show that we’re now never going to get to watch.

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.

Fortunately, Hawke is fantastic. Over-acting like his life depends on it, his mad kabuki mugging somehow works perfectly.

Good Mourning is content with providing sheer, silly entertainment, filling the comedy void left by the likes of Seth Rogan and Jonah Hill perfectly.

The Bob’s Burgers Movie is substantial enough to justify its 102-minute runtime and manages to supersize the show’s appealing recipe without diluting its flavour. It’s a meaty treat that fans and newcomers alike can devour with relish.

You won’t leave a-ha: The Movie wanting to hang out in the band’s dressing room, but you will come away with a renewed appreciation for the intense and sensitive men who made melancholy pop gems like ‘The Sun Always Shines On TV’ and ‘Hunting High And Low’. Glorious as it is, there’s a lot more to this band than ‘Take On Me’.

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.

Condemned in Australia by two of the victim’s families, there’s an argument to be made for Nitram not being watched at all. But by refusing to paint Nitram as an out-and-out monster, the film’s masterstroke is its compassion. It exposes politicians as the real criminals in an unspeakable tragedy that we still haven’t learned from today.

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.

Don’t Make Me Go is a strange beast: a film that feels a little predictable until it snaps and stretches credulity to the limit. Thankfully, Cho and Isaac’s affecting performances are a lot more nuanced than the writing.

It’s hampered by an execution that’s flat, fussy and self-conscious. Only the most hopeless romantic will be able to invest in these characters for very long.

Best of all, like Ragnarok before it, it’s tremendously entertaining. Welcome to the jungle, indeed.

A career of such breadth and note deserves deep exploration, certainly, but so much of the greatness of Morricone’s music speaks for itself that exposing the workings rarely enhances the piece.

Some genuinely exciting action sequences save Jurassic World Dominion from being a complete turkey – a thrilling raptor versus motorbike chase is one of the highlights. Otherwise, the trilogy exits with a whimper rather than a roar.

Kids are scary. If you didn’t think so before, you definitely will after watching The Innocents – one of the year’s most quietly unsettling horror films.

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.

Top Gun: Maverick does exactly what its intended audience wants it to do – pile on the airborne thrills and steely military heroics without knotting things up with too much moralising or complex character development.

Less a balanced exposé than a tabloid scoop played for shocks, the film never even bothers to ask why any of this might have happened.

At the core of This Much I Know To Be True are sumptuously-shot performances of choice tracks from the Bad Seeds’ ethereal ‘Ghosteen’ and Cave & Ellis’ lockdown revelation record ‘Carnage’, all filmed in breathtaking arthouse style in an abandoned factory in Bristol.

Garland, having dipped with his interesting-but-flawed puzzler Annihilation, returns to the form of the excellent Ex Machina here with a shocking, hilarious and terrifying take on grief and masculinity at its most toxic. Thrilling stuff.

Somehow, Raimi – with strong, grounded turns from Cumberbatch and Olsen – just about keeps the film from running too far off the rails.

There’s plenty to admire in Silverton Siege, but most of it comes from the true story itself, with the film squandering every opportunity it has to make an impact.

The film’s emotional beats don’t hit as hard as its musical ones.

It’s all properly violent and uncivilised.

It all adds up to a film that’s brave, fascinating, grim and irreverent: in other words, vintage Verhoeven.

The Lost City isn’t cutting-edge entertainment, but it is a decent action film boasting a great cast and some good jokes, without a superhero in sight. That alone is cause for recommendation.

With such conflict already swirling around the films, is there any hope that new sequel The Secrets Of Dumbledore might cast a spell over audiences? It would help if the plot wasn’t so convoluted.

Never quite sure enough of itself to answer its own questions, this is a fun, sweet and occasionally funny film, but it’s never going to win a battle of the band movies.