To be fair, Blood and Honey 2 is actually a notch above its predecessor, if only because the production values are (relatively) higher. But despite a watchable turn from Chambers, this is largely Neanderthal filmmaking, even with hospital janitor Simon Callow offering up a Scottish accent and a lot of pointless exposition.

Entwining Irish folklore, dead-parent issues, eco-anxiety, and reality-show commentary, The Watched is an acceptable mid-tier horror. It'll be far more interesting to see what Shyamalan does next.

While it's stronger on gunplay and horseplay than plot, this is a solid entry for BB fans.

It all adds up to a genuinely affecting, Seabiscuit-style underdog tale, which will get you cheering dogged Trudy past 10ft waves, a shoal of stinging jellyfish, and a plague of obstructive men. That salty liquid on your face isn’t sea water – it’s tears.

As time passes, a real sadness creeps in as we suspect that we might be witnessing the extinction of a species, though an inspired sight gag is never far away. This is a film that needs to be seen to be believed.

There are some stunning moments, such as the eerily green-screened opener, and an unsettling underwater sequence up there with Dario Argento’s Inferno. But the 145-minute runtime feels increasingly indulgent, and Bonello borrows heavily from Kubrick, Lynch and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.

Like E.T. gone wrong, director Kiah Roache-Turner’s underdeveloped but briskly suspenseful, suggestive arachno-shocker sees a kid with family issues find solace in alien company. Only this spidery E.T. will gobble you up before it phones home…

Lopez takes admirable care of the story’s human elements, seizing opportunities to find emotion amid the weapons-grade pyrotechnics of the chaotic action sequences. But the effective (if minimal) world-building really just masks a thin plot, hammy characters, and the kind of questionable logic leaps you so often find in this sort of big, silly space movie.

As ever, Cronenberg leaves you with much to chew on, but dramatically The Shrouds feels rather inert, as if it can’t get out of second gear

Baker controls the narrative with real aplomb, crafting a time-bomb mix of physical comedy and high drama. Better still, the final third alights on real pathos.

This is an assured, blackly funny, and outrageous horror that will leave you roaring with approval.

With stellar songs by French singer Camille, a highly original score by Clément Ducol, and striking choreography by Damien Jalet, Emilia Pérez shifts effortlessly from musical extravagances to a gritty underworld milieu.

You might care to see this as an allegory about power, sex and control, but it doesn’t feel like it’s saying anything particularly profound.

Delivering her first narrative feature since 2016’s American Honey, Arnold initially seems to be retreading familiar social-realist ground, delving into poverty-stricken working-class lives. But in its second half Bird crosses into fable-like territory, with impressive results.

From overblown sci-fi concepts to incest and erections, Megalopolis is a comedy of errors in a more literal sense than may have been intended, despite its many Shakespeare references.

Marking Harlin’s trumpeted return to a genre in which he established himself as something of a journeyman (A Nightmare on Elm Street 4: The Dream Master, Exorcist: The Beginning), The Strangers: Chapter 1 makes decent use of its contained setting – the house itself, to wheel out the cliché, is its own character – but can’t cut through the sense of fatigue.

It’s entertaining to a point. ... But whether the filmmakers truly get under Trump’s skin is debatable. Do we learn much new about him? Perhaps not, but it’s an absorbing journey all the same.

Long before the film reaches its action-packed, train-based climax, however, adults will be questioning if its three writers have so much as seen an actual Garfield comic strip, given how removed their work feels from its activity-averse inspiration.

A rigorous and handsome drama, finely hewn by Costner and his cast, this is an absorbing ride into the Old West.

IF is obviously aiming to be an E.T.-style family classic about kids and creatures on a healing journey. But its sticky sentimentality keeps it mawkish rather than magical.

Is Furiosa as magnificent as Fury Road? No, though not because it’s the first Mad Max movie without Max, whose absence barely registers. At 140 minutes minus credits, it’s a touch unwieldy, while its lament for the inevitability of war and the emptiness of revenge feels hollow given the giddy excitement it stirs from just these things. But what can’t be disputed is that Miller, the Mad genius, has done it again, once more refusing to simply repeat himself and instead choosing to kick up dust rather than gather it as he forges a new path through the Wasteland in often spectacular fashion.

Entertaining enough but inessential, Kingdom offers spectacle and thrills but lacks the ambition, smarts, and gravity of its immediate predecessors.

While it may prove a good gateway horror for some, more experienced genre fans will likely wish it was a bit nastier.

A deliciously silly, spoofy tale of the 60s battle for breakfast domination, filled with high-fructose fun.

Such is the in-built disposability of this sort of lightweight streaming fodder that those who watch it will probably have forgotten it inside of five minutes.

You’re left with the feeling that the film could have been made under another title, with no brand recognition, and be no less successful. Still, that’s Hollywood for you; at least the result emerges as a fine tribute to the unsung heroes of the movie business.

Snyder’s sci-fi epic stumbles towards the finish line with an underwhelming Part Two that feels more like a Part One-And-A-Half.

The deaths are exuberantly grisly and explosive, too, the sound mix relishing every gooey squelch. Yet as predictable twists and an underused final cameo arrive, all the blood isn’t enough to cover up the nagging shortfalls of final-act invention.

Given the short from whence it came ran a mere 12 minutes, there is a definite sense of material being extended beyond its elasticity. Yet it’s a decent vehicle for Ridley that, like last year’s The Marsh King’s Daughter, shows she doesn’t need a galaxy far, far away to demonstrate her star (Wars) power.

It might be too heady a brew for some, especially those whose appreciation of tennis is limited to strawberries and cream. On the acting front, though, it’s a virtual grand slam, Zendaya, Faist, and particularly O’Connor fine-tuning their characters’ 13-year romantic imbroglio into a lusty love match for the ages.

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

This classy, female-centred Omen prequel is devilishly good at keeping its nun on the run.

In the exquisite gunfight-style tension of the real interview, Gillian Anderson’s uncannily accurate portrayal of Emily Maitlis (that cocked head and laser stare) comes into its own. Yet even she is outclassed by Sewell’s narcissistic but oddly charismatic Prince Andrew.

Frankly, if you’re buying a ticket purely for the behemoth battles then you’ll get your money’s worth: take your pick from a trippy rumpus that defies gravity, a Copacabana beach-off, some Planet of the Apes-esque monkey business, and a literal dust-up at the Egyptian pyramids.

A savage triumph.

The drifty, dream-punctuated second half might puzzle younger kids, though its universal themes and visual gags are perfectly all-ages appropriate. As is the film’s sweet, un-snarky tone, free from sly Futurama satire or Bojack Horseman raunch.

Taken as speculative fantasy, however, Civil War is never less than vividly, chillingly authentic.

Too many characters and callbacks plus a formulaic plot means Frozen Empire doesn’t touch the original movies, but it’s a likeable-enough brand extension.

Shot on digital video with a non-professional cast, Lovely Rita intelligently conveys the stifling nature of Rita's home and educational environments, and benefits from refusing to spell out character motivations. Newcomer Osika's subtle and often wordless central performance, meanwhile, seals the film's success.

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.

Dastmalchian shines as Delroy, mugging to the studio audience as things spiral out of control, all the while rubbing his hands that he has managed to create the TV event of the decade. And along the way, the filmmakers pull off some rather nasty surprises.

You’ll flinch, yes, but you’ll forget it just as quickly.

There are some decent-enough scares weaved in, including a powerful cold open and a pull-string set piece. But for a film about the power of imagination, it’s frustrating how little it trusts the audience to use its own. As such, there’s no real sense of dread or suspense.

Brown and the beast strike sparks as Fresnadillo’s initially lukewarm adventure gradually heats up.

It never feels particularly different to what you’ve seen before, and doesn’t push any boundaries visually or narratively in the way its DWA stablemate Puss in Boots: The Last Wish did.

More fever dream than film, Love Lies Bleeding shows that Glass is the real deal. Who knows what sights she has to show us next?

This is an impactful and at times profound film, with a hauntingly lovely turn from Sandler.

Ethan Coen strikes out on his own with a frivolous frolic that wears its slightness like a badge of honour.

Part Two is an inarguable marvel technically, almost leaving its Oscar-grade predecessor for dust.

Chastain and Sarsgaard make a riveting duo in a film that – like Franco’s Tim Roth double Chronic and Sundown before it – is in no great hurry to elucidate its mysteries.

Throughout, there’s a tendency to descend into farce, which yields laughs, but ultimately hampers these Letters’ potential to say something more profound.

While the visuals are refreshingly clean and grounded for a modern superhero film, the story is bogged down by exposition and egregious product placement.

Capturing Marley’s essence on screen proves an impossible task in a biopic that veers towards hagiography.

A neat mash-up of high-school comedy and horror tropes. Pity it flounders in the final third, though.

Triumph and tragedy form an inseparable tag team in writer/director Sean Durkin’s (Martha Marcy May Marlene) emotional chronicle of the Von Erich clan, a close-knit family of sibling wrestlers whose rise to prominence in 1980s Texas was accompanied by a remorseless, almost Shakespearean succession of setbacks.

First too slow, then too silly, Vaughn’s well-cast but wayward romp fires off half-baked ideas without the focus needed to make them stick.

Despite the slightly uneven pacing, Wright’s sturdy performance keeps things on an even keel. The result is a fiendishly sharp poke at questionable notions of Black representation in the modern world.

This is a clever, all-ages charmer.

Writer/director duo Sam and Andy Zuchero take an admirably big swing with their feature debut Love Me, but it never engages emotionally in the way this kind of material needs to.

While the film occasionally pushes you to feel as deeply as Benji, something it can’t quite pull off, there is a profundity to David and Benji’s pilgrimage that leaves an unmistakable impression.

The film treads a fine line between saccharine and crowd-pleasing, though there’s no doubt a few moments will elicit tears.

A brief cameo from producer Benedict Cumberbatch provides some additional mid-film star wattage. Yet who needs it when you have Comer, a force of nature to rival any city-swamping deluge?

A fun if by-the-numbers heist movie that brings the laughs, but doesn't stand out from the crowd.

A little more than a remake yet less than a makeover, Tina Fey’s watchable, well-cast revisit needed more daring to be wholly worthwhile.

Any attempt at Chariots of Fire-style emotional intensity is tanked, however, by Callum Turner’s unhelpfully laconic, low-key performance.

A damp-squib horror with zero thrills. Russell and Condon deserve much better.

The best bits of Kingdom come when Jules Verne-esque technology like Manta’s Octobots collides with Atlantis’ psychedelic bioluminescence, a colourful contrast that gets to the heart of this watery franchise’s trippy appeal.

Snyder’s passion project risks becoming subsumed by its own self-importance, but delivers bombastic mayhem and grandiose visuals by the bucket-load.

Adapting from Rumaan Alam’s bestseller, writer/director Esmail (creator of TV’s tech-conspiracy drama Mr Robot) paints a scarily plausible picture of how fast chaos and conflict erupt when our computer-reliant systems suddenly start to fail. But his endlessly bickering characters ultimately stop us caring whether their world ends with a bang or with a whimper.

King’s flair for transposing peak British TV comedy’s character to film is also apparent, thanks to a fine support haul of Peep Show and Ghosts alumni.

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

Blending OTT gore, devilish humor and on-the-nose satire, this is sick, twisted and hugely enjoyable.

Epic in scope, intimate in execution, Napoleon is a thrilling, surprisingly funny account of the infamous French Emperor’s rise and fall.

Davis, Dinklage, Zegler, and the Games thrill, but Snow doesn’t quite summon the substance needed to fulfil this long-haul prequel’s ambitions.

For a while, the film seems unsure which direction to take. But a darker third act sees Paul’s benign personality begin to warp in people’s dreams, impacting his entire life. Meanwhile, echoing the work of Charlie Kaufman (Being John Malkovich in particular), Dream Scenario morphs into a wickedly funny satire on the pernicious nature of social media.

Marvel’s woes won’t be solved by a disjointed mini-Avengers that doesn't make a great deal of sense. But the cats are Flerken great.

Refusing to become a cautionary tale, How to Have Sex explores the pitfalls as well as the pleasures of teen-holiday hook-ups; it also brings an admirably fresh, female POV to the subject of sexual consent.

A ploddingly predictable, gore-lite yawner.

It’s a straightforward morality story at heart, reminiscent at times of A Bronx Tale and with a sagacious neighbourhood DJ (played, rather fabulously, by ex-footballer Ian Wright) cut from the same cloth as Do the Right Thing’s Mister Señor Love Daddy. Yet it is such a stunningly and meticulously designed film that it continually captivates.

You don’t need to be a Swiftie to admire the astonishing staging, endless creativity, and the spectacle of an artist giving her all.

Rounding things off in grisly fashion, the Bristol studio manages to get away with a dark, tongue-in-cheek chick-flick that will have you thinking twice before ordering your next takeaway.

The Holdovers is a loving testament to the power of the human spirit, albeit one that favours subtle, melancholic grace notes over any need to shout. Though tinged with sadness - be prepared to shed a tear - it’s sure to become a feel-good, festive favourite.

With a quality cast (which also includes Lena Olin as Winton’s wife and Jonathan Pryce as his friend), this is a finely crafted film that unfolds with great care, building towards a cathartic climax.

The film thrives on fascinating juxtapositions, Haynes striking a keen balance between true-life complexities and theatrical melodrama.

Stanfield, on double duty as both Clarence and his straitlaced disciple twin Thomas, is a charismatic lead in a cast that boasts more than one enjoyable cameo. Yet you can’t help concluding that Samuel’s laudable ambition to give his mischievous comedy a deeper resonance was too heavy a cross to bear.

While the style seems familiar, the material feels fresh: a testament not only to how Nichols lovingly crafts a fictional story around the photos Danny Lyon took for his seminal 1968 book The Bikeriders, but also to the flesh his actors put on the bones of the archetypes who populate it.

Admittedly, the film’s oddly paced, elliptical middle section may leave you scratching your head. But then the twisty third act pulls it all together, sending shivers down the spine.

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.

The performances keep us engaged.

Fitful jolts aside, the devil trots out the old tunes wearily in this hoary and overcooked valentine to a horror classic.

Domont is too smart to go full Fatal Attraction, largely restricting the violence in the piece to the emotional and the verbal.

Tobin Bell’s comeback may please some, but it’s not a sufficient X-cuse to see Saw resuscitated.

Even in a crowded AI-movie market, Edwards’s stellar sci-fi is a terrific achievement. See it on the largest, loudest screen possible.

Sly and Statham are always watchable – not least when the latter takes a job as security for an odious social media influencer. But they can’t save this mission from going painfully pear-shaped.

While the biopic is determinedly feel-good, and sometimes a little over the top, Williams holds true to the spirit of someone who - like Gael García Bernal - was a born entertainer.

You can at least say for the film that it’s clearly targeting a surreal, stoner vibe. But even cutting it that slack, there’s barely anything here to recommend.

This is an acutely observed, well-judged, and original take on a popular genre. That it’s also a directorial debut is extremely impressive.

Ultimately, though, the combination of handsome visuals and assemblage of sketchy moments leave it feeling more like a museum piece, offering impressions over a gratifying narrative experience.