The sci-fi premise seems preposterous, but get beyond that and Gedeck’s predicament absorbs.

Despite a handful of high points and Raimi flourishes, Strange’s second solo film rarely feels like the best possible outcome of this confluence of director and character.

Tamer than the book and not as funny, this is Salmon filleted. But McGregor and Blunt make fetching lovebirds, while Kristin Scott Thomas is off the scale in a rare comic outing.

Ocean’s Eleven meets The Prestige? Not quite. Starts well, ends in a heap, but in between there’s just enough splash and flash to distract from the lack of substance

Valiant, but flawed. Some of the set-pieces are superb, but there isn’t enough meat on the bones to turn this into a classic.

A mixed return for Stillman, Damsels is so whimsically out of step it's like a time-travel comedy without the time travel. Fortunately, Gerwig and some dazzling dialogue save his blushes.

Depending on taste, you’ll be left either barfing or laughing.

Vaughn and Wilson. eight years on from "Wedding Crashers," the pair successfully rekindle their irascible shtick.

A so-so sequel enlivened by a few inspired moments. Ralph and Vanellope are still good company, but this concept might have worked better as a series of shorts.

With Hill on co-scripting duties with Scott Pilgrim scribe Michael Bacall, 21 Jump Street was always going to live or die by its gags. Fortunately, it boasts that sweet-yet-dirty comedy that Hill revels in.

Closer to Eli Roth than Sam Raimi, this brutal retread combines J-horror atmospherics with torture-porn kills. It’s more evisceration than invention but at least has the courage of its bloody-minded convictions.

In the end, Road House is a solid actioner, a frolic that Liman marshals competently. This is a fun Friday-night fight-fest, best enjoyed with a few bevvies – brash, loud, knockabout and liable to leave you with a cauliflower ear or two.

By the time it’s over, you’ll either be heading for the beach or vowing never to go in the water again.

The end-stretch is overlong, but the Flash animation style pops with colour, the music is fun, and off-the-scale creature cuteness abounds.

Lawrence’s mechanised menagerie and the directors’ stereoscopic smarts entertain most.

Shame that the plotting favours narrative intrigue over character depth, creating a film whose message is witnessed rather than felt.

Though delightful in places, the third entry in Sony’s third Spider-Man cycle feels both overstocked and underwhelming.

Filled with cherry-blossom gorgeousness and sentimental homages to small-town Japanese life, it's a film of quiet, telling moments, even when big revelations surface.

Ashley Bell’s nuanced performance and a surprisingly pyrotechnic finale liven up a gloomy sequel. Title’s still nonsense, mind.

Exploring how a one-time surrealist art muse fought to report atrocities, this handsome but rather conventional biopic showcases a tip-top Winslet performance, but at times meanders like a weighty Wikipedia entry.

Solid casting and scares mix with thin plotting and middling monster moves in Savage’s King riff.

The vagueness won't win Dumont new fans, but his enigmatic allegory of intertwined good and evil does linger in the mind.

Massively unlikely, but compelling to the last, it makes a decent fist of conveying the strength of internet attachments, even if filtering the unfolding drama through endless computer screens becomes a well-worn device.

The scuzz-chic visuals, sleaze-synth score and deep-cutting gore are effective, and shooting from the killer’s POV proves a valid USP. But Wood, despite giving his all, cannot match Joe Spinell’s unhinged turn in the original: nightmares in a damaged brain indeed.

An engaging new direction for Eli Roth, who offsets the odd tonal hiccup with plenty of ghoulish delights.

The thematic weight drags down the tension, yet just when it seems Janiak has forgotten the scares she pulls off a creepy finale.

Ravishingly pretty but low-powered, this cute and earnest fairy tale has a whole lot of homage, but not enough heart.

It ebbs away at the climax, but there’s 45 minutes where it sings loud and strange.

Without much in the way of nudge-wink Pixar-style humour and pathos, mums and dads are less likely to be quite so enthralled.

With plenty of potential and a door swung wide open for a future sequel, Uncharted makes a decent play for filling an Indy-shaped hole in the movie market right now. But the series will need to beef up its reserves of charm and swagger to be in the same league as cinema’s favorite archaeologist.

It might look as though Hallmark, Benetton and Richard Curtis have collaborated on a movie, but Chelsom’s lightly subversive, self-aware tone bolsters Pegg’s best shot yet at a mass-appeal crowd-pleaser.

The script keeps its gloves on but Gyllenhaal gives his all, notching up one of his very best performances.

Reid’s a fine lead, but DuVernay’s usually firm footing wobbles in the CGI clouds of Disney fantasy.

It’s hard not to be moved by the story, but it’s only a handful of great performances that save it from underwhelming. Steal the book instead.

Classy but curiously empty, The Son may be a spiritual sequel to The Father, but it’s not its equal.

Direction and cast pack a wallop.

Sixteen years on from the Shia LaBeouf original, though, the many brains behind this franchise have still to figure out how to satisfy an audience without leaving it bludgeoned.

Delivers as a Friday-night actioner, with some smart moves and good banter. Smith and Lawrence are on crackerjack form.

A primitive concept (cavemen play football) generates unsophisticated laughs in an animated caper that’s fun but rather second division by Aardman standards.

Mostly, it’s a study of an analogue ghost turned digital star; yet because Maloof is vested in building Maier’s reputation, the film leaves some uncomfortable questions about the ethics of posthumous fame.

It's a must see for fans of roar footage.

Occasionally rambling, it’s kept afloat by an eclectic soundtrack and Christopher Doyle’s striking urban lensing.

It’s not the sort of family film you’ll wax lyrical about, but there’s enough colorful, chaotic, kid-friendly fun to amply entertain.

Comprising archive footage and first-hand accounts, Claire Ferguson’s film feels vital in sharing harrowing stories of life in concentration camps.

The story is predictable, but Simmons’ tighty whities and Delpy’s fish impressions compensate.

Ending up in a CG mess that tries to say something about karma, Bullet Train isn’t the Pulp Fiction on rails it thinks it is. What it is, though, is a whole dollop of fun. Buoyed by Leitch’s expert eye for action as well as one of the most hilariously disposable A-list casts around, the film has Friday night written all over it.

Much more fun than Coming 2 America. Don’t be surprised to see a fifth film greenlit.

Bob has spawned multiple books, but what works on the page seems slight on screen. That’s not to say it isn’t life-affirming, it’s just not quite the cat’s pyjamas.

Fun enough, but not the lightning-bolt-to-the-heart update we hoped for. For a far superior update of the Frankenstein myth, read Stephen King’s Revival.

[A] memorable, conventional account of a true maverick.

Prisoners of the Ghostland exists entirely outside the norms and conventions of moviemaking. Really there’s only one word to describe it: nuts.

Blurring the fiction/documentary lines (it features non-professional actors), it’s spiced with eccentricities.

Reichardt and Williams reunite to muted effect to create a portrait of an artist that feels a little unfinished.

Francesca Gregorini’s film stands or falls on a central mystery as silly as it is surreal. Fair play to Gregorini, though, for avoiding the temptation to deliver an outré slice of suburban Gothic; by framing events as melodrama, she can better examine themes of grief and motherhood.

For dance fans this is a fascinating study of the time, effort and logistics that go into a big production.

The film’s cryptic style obscures insight; just as the condition provides a scapegoat for neglecting Abby’s motives, so it prevents Passon from developing a sustained dramatic network. Satisfaction is fleeting.

An action vehicle that, in trying to do it all, does a little too much; Johnson and Blunt keep it afloat.

Jalil Lespert’s film treats its hero with a high seriousness that not even Niney’s uncanny portrayal of YSL’s artistry and mental fragility can justify.

It isn’t a reboot or reimagining, refreshingly, but Oblivion plays like a stylised remix of superior sci-fi ground-breakers. Cruise and Kosinski: they might be an effective team, but pioneers they’re not.

It's slight, sure, and there's a better, less-glossy film buried in the material, but warm performances redeem Crowe's agreeable return.

A decent adaptation of McEwan’s excellent novella. Forget Fifty Shades – this is sex to make your cheeks blush.

Logan Lerman delivers a career-making turn in this sweet, sincere film. It might not be a massive hit, but it will certainly ease a few paths through the awkwardness of adolescence.

A brutal fusion of angst and action, this mini-epic gives the sword-and-sorcery genre a bleak, brusque new life. Watch it for some terrific limbchopping and a mighty turn by James Purefoy.

Say what you like about director Justin Lin’s lack of subtlety (or understanding of the laws of physics), but he knows how to kick-start an action movie.

Washington and Wahlberg are an effective double act in an intermittently exciting thriller with more twists than it needs. We’d love to see them partnered again, though perhaps as characters.

Guilty of being slavishly loyal, Taylor’s film never quite translates into the cinematic equivalent of Hawkins’ page-turner. Blunt, though, is excellent.

Aiming straight for mounting dread, Parker gets the job done aggressively.

The performances keep us engaged.

Full of fizz, filth and fun, I’m So Excited! is like an ’80s retro-blast. Its scattershot comedy may not impress latecomers to Almodóvar’s career, but old-school fans will love it.

A competent if occasionally clunky biopic, enlivened by a superb Marisa Abela, who truly inhabits Winehouse and brings those songs to life.

Spielberg lovingly restages the classic musical – but while the songs still soar, it feels more indulgent than essential.

Like all of Bay’s work, it’s over-the-top, brash and exhausting to watch. But like the lifestyle its characters aspire to, there’s an allure too.

A bloody fun second round, Mortal Kombat 2 creatively resets the series for the better. Karl Urban adds irreverent energy as a post-Deadpool Johnny Cage, while the all-important fights mostly deliver the goods. A step up from 2021’s bizarrely tournament-less Mortal Kombat that lands some killer blows, but it’s far from a flawless victory.

Taking aim at England’s ruthless ruling class rather than American misogyny, it’s a glossy, wildly over-the-top satire about a working-class student’s fatal attraction to an aristo family. Saltburn is a fiercely funny watch, albeit one that doesn’t deliver on its promise quite as well as Fennell’s debut.

Despite some striking imagery and sterling FX work, Welsh writer/director Caradog W James’ expert use of limited resources doesn’t stretch as far as the subtlety-averse script.

Christian Bale’s earnest, emotional turn sustains a thriller that throws a few mean jabs but staggers towards a punch-drunk resolution.

Dennis Bartok’s sparse horror has a spooky central conceit, and just about overcomes its budgetary bumps, while Macdonald excels as the innocent.

A visually stunning directorial debut that’s too intimidated by the original source material to be effective.

The direction pummels and the cast impress, yet Berg’s war movie promises more than it delivers. Memories of Battleship are sunk, but that Oscar buzz may be a bit premature.

A competent rather than classic follow-up. If the action feels generic at times, the addition of Watts, more Winslet and the strength of Woodley are worth watching.

It's not quite "Before Sunrise" with mud and portaloos then, but warm vibes, buzzy crowd scenes and the two leads' enthusiasm will pull you through to the morning after.

A visually inventive, deliciously dark fairytale reheat. The story's far from the stuff of legend, but Theron makes for a ferocious meanie, helping to flush away "Mirror Mirror's" sugary aftertaste.

The Expendables 3 marks a sizeable improvement on the first two outings.

No ray guns, no tentacular beasties, just gravitas in a film that goes boldly about its business but never quite lands.

Ben Wheatley goes back to basics for a pandemic chiller where Covid is the last thing to be afraid of.

Joseph Gordon-Levitt is credible as the former NSA contractor, but Stone gets side-tracked by his relationship with Lindsay Mills (Shailene Woodley) and Rhys Ifans’ leering CIA suit.

Dagg keeps things simple, but his jogging camera whips up the urgency and he’s well-served by Sutherland’s rangy physicality.

Egerton gives it his all, and there are moments of visual invention, but this largely formulaic rock biopic can’t hit the high notes.

Though suffering from its own shortcomings, Zack Snyder’s gargantuan Justice League is a commendable improvement on the widely derided original. Stock up on snacks.

The 3D is completely redundant and the action sporadic but unexpected gearshifts provide plenty of narrative meat.

It’s absorbing to a point, but adds little to what’s gone before.

Drags like an arthritic snail.

The ghost of Tex Avery is alive and well in a frenetic sequel that does more than reheat and serve. Madagascar 4? Don't bet against it.

Like Pacino’s Shakespeare rumination Looking For Richard (1996), Wilde Salomé is passionate and absorbing, though the insertion of lengthy clips from the film might irk viewers who’ve just watched it.

This solid if unspectacular finish to the Apes trilogy features an A-game Andy Serkis and incredible VFX, but its darker excesses threaten to suffocate at times.

An amusing, thoughtful romcom about love, literature and coming of age. Whatever age.

Believably charts a girl’s coming of age but is eventually capsized by lurid melodrama.

Engagingly off-centre, like Charlie Kaufman taking down Quentin Tarantino, this sunbaked shaggy-dog story is a place-holder film for McDonagh, and often closer to chaos than it is to genius.