You’ll find yourself scouring the frame for this malign force in the tiniest refraction of light. Whannell knows you’re doing it, too, and lets scenes go on so long, you start to doubt your own eyes. There shouldn’t be any doubting the magnetic Moss, though: she’s the real deal.

If this energetic, fitfully funny version introduces the story to a new generation, heck, bring on a new ‘Sense and Sensibility’ too.

Sonic the Hedgehog is another demonstration of the things that tend to go wrong when a movie is spun out from source material with little plot and skimpy characterisation.

It works because we haven’t seen this story a thousand times before, and because it leaves behind the grim-dark posturing of ‘Suicide Squad’. It’s nice to see a joker who doesn’t take herself too seriously.

The metaphor for the extra baggage these cousins carry should not be lost, but it’s also a constant reminder of their unsettled nature. Never Rarely Sometimes Always creates a deeply empathetic look at their shared suffering.

It’s a stylistic flair that looks impressive at first, but the more Zeitlin returns to his same tricks, the more tedious it all becomes.

Sweet and sincere.

More damagingly, director William Eubank (‘The Signal’) can’t decide if Underwate’ is a disaster flick or a monster movie. It ends up sinking between the two stalls: too unfocused for the former; not scary enough for the latter. All that early promise vanishes into the murk.

Lively remains impressive throughout, but with plot-driven fare like this, such lapses are a let-down.

Alice Guy-Blaché was the first female filmmaker yet criminally overlooked by history – something Pamela B. Green sets out to correct in this educational and entertaining film.

When Downhill works, it’s because the dynamic between Louis-Dreyfus and Ferrell feels recognisably fraught. More often than not, though, this remake gets stuck in the snow.

This is an enchanting little story, to a point – it’s thin stuff, but while it never fully gets the emotions jangling, there’s charm to spare and the action is dynamic and occasionally thrilling.

The movie’s greatest accomplishment, though, is the way it brings some honest heart to Mike and Marcus’s partnership in the first half, before the traditional mayhem and profane banter take over.

Rise of the Guardians is an effervescent dose of fantasia that’s pretty hard to dislike. Unless, of course, you’re a cynical grump.

As the tragedy unfolds, there’s a strange solace in seeing this captivating enigma somehow emerging intact.

1917 is a work of sweeping scale yet pinpoint intimacy.

The result is another great showcase for the animation house’s powers of non-verbal storytelling that’s a giddy delight for kids, and just witty and knowing enough for grown-ups.

Cats may flop but it will be found by a likeminded audience, maybe the same one that rescued The Greatest Showman. Don’t be the sourpuss to tell these people they’re wrong.

It feels like a massive retrenchment—privately, a rebellion seems to have been fought and lost—and only the most loyal fans will be happy about it.

Sophia Takal's update of the cult classic turns the real horror of campus assault into a springboard for cheap thrills.

Richard Jewell’s greatest feat is the generous emphasis it places on its Forrest Gumpian do-gooder’s complex sense of humanity; if only there were more of that to spread around to the other characters.

The material is worthy, but this continuing struggle deserves a more nuanced take.

Another enjoyable fantasy adventure from Studio Ghibli, the animation house that gave us the delightful Spirited Away. This is not in the same class, but lovers of Miyazaki’s masterpiece will recognise the same worldview – essentially that of Lewis Carroll’s Alice stories refracted through a modern Japanese sensibility.

Ballour’s presence makes Fayyad’s film inspiring, even as we cringe for her safety with every overhead explosion.

Meirelles injects enough visual snap to remind you that he once made City of God. If the second half gets a little sidetracked by flashbacks, another meaty Vatican scene is never too far away. Watching these two actors chewing over big issues—God, aging, loneliness, celibacy, abuse in the priesthood—under the vast ceilings of this gilded palace is a joy.

But for every Thelma & Louise–like golden-hour drive into the sunset (there are several too many), you wish the movie also had the sophistication to cram from that classic script’s complex sense of injustice, one that had room for a subplot involving a sympathetic lawman. Believe in Matsoukas, though; she’s the real deal and she’ll get better material.

Little Women sometimes plays like a comedy, one that includes a crumpled cry over a bad haircut and several kitchen interludes that feel like Christmas miracles. Yet it’s Alcott’s visionary attitude, well-struck by Gerwig, that stays with you the longest: the loneliness of female liberty.

As Black Panther, Boseman is a hero in spandex; here he’s a hero with a badge and gun, who looks the devil in the eye, and stares down the evil in the system. It’s a smart way forward for an actor who has suddenly become extremely famous, yet wants to be perceived as more than just a cartoon. He’s got the chops to take us anywhere he wants.