Hits all the routine beats but is plenty entertaining, with Pacino rediscovering his enviable pizazz to headline a quality ensemble.

Not up there with key US influences "Annie Hall," "When Harry Met Sally" and "Jerry Maguire," but a romcom Brits can be proud of. Make a date of it.

Equally cool and cruel, stuffed with subtext, this ‘Iranian fairytale’ weaves its spell to a flip, hip ending. Amirpour is one to watch.

Very tame, but saved from the remake scrapheap by Sam Rockwell's surprisingly touching performance and a final reel that – briefly – takes the material somewhere new.

An existential flipbook and a heartbreaking black joke: stickmen have never looked so alive.

If you’re willing to let a few things slide, this is one of the best family blockbusters in years. Clooney and Robertson (literally) soar, the madcap action always feels grounded and Bird’s world is bursting with visual invention.

Not the promised insider’s peek but Assayas and Binoche are still a potent combo, nailing the fragility of an actress facing the ageing process.

The punning title is true; his bracing words narrated by admirers, Fuller’s amazing journey is lovingly honoured. Fuller Life, full of heart.

If you loved Pitch Perfect you’ll find plenty to enjoy here because it’s pretty much exactly the same film, but there’s enough wit and warmth that it feels like a worthwhile sequel.

Original, engrossing and extremely confrontational, The Tribe treads the dark path between misery porn and masterpiece.

A lunatic vision, as hilarious as it is hellish. And some of the greatest action ever put on screen.

Drags in places and not always certain of its tone but with a sprinkling of eye-bulging visuals that wink to Spielberg’s heyday. Give it a shot.

It’s great to see a gritty girl-gang story that’s not a fingerwagging cautionary tale, or a grrrlpower fantasy. Sciamma finishes her coming-of-age trilogy on a high note.

A modest, moving film, Rosewater goes to show that quiet outrage can speak as loud as any atrocity.

Funny, foul-mouthed and frighteningly on-the-money, Top Five is relentlessly amusing even while it’s super-indulgent and selfabsorbed. Rock on.

Fresh enough to engage newcomers, respectful enough to appease scholars, this is – for genre fans – pure period-drama porn.

A facepalm of a film that places no value on life or limb yet still expects the audience to, this sub-par shoot-’em-up plays out like Four Rooms’ fifth part.

Where Elmo proved to be spiky Kevin Clash’s alter-ego, this sweet if superfluous doc shows that Spinney is Big Bird, a tireless performer who refuses to retire.

Ambitiously staged and impressively shot, Monsters: Dark Continent makes a bold stab at mounting a franchise but lacks the vision and surprise of its predecessor.

Coherence croaks as Gout dishes enough jump-cuts, whip pans and slo-mo assassinations to make Michael Bay look restrained, but the multi-handed mood music offers meaty compensations.

Part horror, part love story, part morality tale, Age Of Ultron is a smart superhero smackdown that raises the bar once more.

This is not, we’d wager, the film its director intended. Yet it’s worth watching, if only to see Caine and Kingsley together for the first time in 25 years.

One of the strangest films you’ll see this (or any) year, it unsettles, bores, elates and amuses in equal measure. Not for everyone, but there’s plenty to chew on.

As a portrait of a privileged, narcissistic sex addict, its magnificence and messiness are intertwined, while Gérard Depardieu’s (literally) naked performance offers a gurning, grunting bedfellow to Keitel’s Bad Lieutenant and Brando’s butterfat Last Tango In Paris protagonist.

A classy, actorly affair, whose emphasis on bittersweet character drama over class satire is both its most striking feature and biggest missed opportunity.

Slasher smarts with guts and heart. Town is no Scream but it’s still one of the most entertaining, enterprising remakes in recent memory.

Not the deepest western you’ll ever see, but it sure knows how to pack a punch (and fire off a round). Fans of the genre will get their kicks.

Hardy is immaculate as Leo, from accent to demeanour. Now on his fourth film with Hardy, Oldman is a pleasure to watch, and even the smallest of roles have been carefully cast, with the likes of Vincent Cassel, Paddy Considine and Clarke all enjoying their moment.

Like a Cobain mixtape brought to feral life, Montage is scruffy, sharp and insightful on an oft-explored subject. The pay-off is terribly moving – it’ll drain you.

Coasting on charismatic performances and a quality crew, Gosling’s debut proves two things: screenwriting is hard, and stylish and stylised are very different things.

A minor-key appraisal of modern marriage that manages to be funny, sad and, sadly, true – just don’t watch it on your anniversary.

Required viewing as a critique of US foreign policy but forgettable as a drama, Good Kill is a timely warning, even if it lacks the power of the horrors it depicts.

A plodding, predictable script hampers this tale of a real-life legal battle. But it’s redeemed by a vital central performance – and some vivid flashbacks.

Overlords has its share of clunky moments yet nonetheless proves, like Monsters before it, what can be achieved when you’re short of cash but rich in imagination.

Laughs are few and far between in a comedy that proves the combo of talented performers and an intriguing concept are no guarantee of success. Dispiriting stuff.

Dreamworks’ sweet and cosy sci-fi comedy could have used more Oh-riginality but top-hole character design should ensure a Big Bang of Boov merchandise.

The Soska sisters’ feminist ‘T Is For Torture Porn’ has the most to say but everyone will have their own favourites (D, K, T, X and Z, since you asked).

The film’s only let down by its too-frequent recourse to narrative cliché.

Wan has fashioned a nitro-fuelled thrill-ride that forms a fitting tribute to its blue-eyed bro.

Next to message-laden, CG-soaked kids’ animations, SpongeBob stands alone. His return is a skittish but winning splash of nonsense: dip in.

A swollen budget, a mini-Big Lewbowski reunion, and top-notch digital effects fail to enliven proceedings in yet another ho-hum dragon chaser based on a YA novel.

The best sci-fi trilogy you’ve never seen amalgamated into one organic whole. Surprising, exciting and, at times, strangely beautiful.

Imagine all of D-Fens’ fury in Falling Down squeezed into one short, then times it by six. A gloriously crazed compendium that fizzes with OMG and OTT moments.

Vogt’s droll, daring meta-drama flows in subtle, surprising fashion. Petersen provides a magnetic focus for a mischievous, moving debut.

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.

Loving and lavish, Kenneth Branagh’s take will please traditionalists more than revisionists, but there’s enough here to enchant both young and old.

Exhilarating and exhausting in equal measure – a decent approximation of how the characters feel – Mommy puts us through every setting on the emotional wringer.

A genuine disappointment, given the talent involved, and a rare misstep for Penn, who can’t save this moribund vanity project from flatlining.

Reynolds moves on from Green Lantern in Satrapi’s psycho-romp, pitched awkwardly between funny-haha and funny-peculiar, but blessed with enough style and smarts to merit a look.

Over-long, but a work of great artistry and emotion. As the woodcutter says upon finding our heroine: “A gift from heaven”.

A much-admired text is respectfully brought to the screen in a film that nonetheless struggles under the burden of its war movie clichés.

This genial, over-stuffed return boasts more national treasures than the British Museum. But tinny plots and predictable scripting mean it lives up to its title.

His state of mind goes some way to explaining the something-missing air of his last film, but it inspires to see how deeply he cares about his craft.

Hyena may be grim, but it’s also grimly engrossing in a way that gets under the skin.

Like its title character, Chappie is stunning to behold and easy to like, but it’s still some way from fully developed.

Misses the energy and vitality of Gregg Araki’s best work, but there’s more going on here than immediately meets the eye.

Moore gives a controlled portrait of emotional implosion, bringing quietly heartbreaking nuances to a calm, considered treatment of a life-shattering situation.

Detractors may carp that Cronenberg is showing us nothing new, but Maps is so flawless in its execution, it vividly refreshes the subject matter. Never overcooking the setting, it’s a story right in his wheelhouse; a very human look at characters barely clinging to their humanity.

With the story fit to burst with an Ocean's trilogy worth of hustles, tricks and grifts (some of them smart, others groan-inducing), at least Robbie is the genuine article – sharing playful chemistry with Smith, but ultimately stealing the movie from right under his nose.

Who let the dogs out? This is Homeward Bound: The Incredibly Harrowing Journey, with the feelgood payoff arriving after many feel-shit sequences. Well worth it, though.

A horror film that will haunt your waking hours for weeks. Every frame of It Follows is stamped with nameless dread.

Blending the mythical resonances of The Searchers with lyricism and bristly realism, Wolfe’s harrowing, haunting dispatch from Brit-cinema’s undergrowth is strong meat: emphatic evidence of a bold talent’s arrival.

Slick but overstretched, Predestination deserves respect for what it tries to achieve rather than dismissal for not getting there. Either way, you will not be bored.

Dakota Johnson is a revelation in an adaptation that’s better than it should have been. But with the sex scenes and the drama lacking the required heat, it’s ultimately unsatisfying.

The drugs don’t work – but thankfully Aniston does – in this slight but sly portrait of pain-meds hell, which wallows in self-pity when it should be grabbing our sympathy.

It won’t be for everyone, but Burgundy is rich, dark and could well lead to intoxication.

The predictable script lulls you into laughing at some very tired gags, but at least Hart refrains from screaming through the whole thing.

It’s no "Heat" but the niggles are easily forgiven given the virtuosity on show and the mood oozing from every frame. No one shoots faces, architecture and gunfights like Mann.

A low-budget, highconcept WTF thriller that might have been conceived by Rod Serling in the heyday of his Twilight Zone series. Spread the word.

Undeservedly controversial comedy lacks both laughs and nuance. The best bit they could come up with is Seth Rogen shoving a rocket up his bum.

Charmless, mirthless and witless, this waste of time is another black mark on Depp’s card, while his co-stars fare little better. Even low expectations won’t help you here.

Both visually and in the action stakes, Jupiter Ascending could give pretty much any space movie a run for its money.

Powerful drama, driven by a powerhouse performance, Selma is this year’s Lincoln. For Oyelowo and DuVernay, it’s a career changer.

Molina and Lithgow shine as newlywed grumpy old men in a moving love story that’s also a masterclass in emotional subtlety.

Wahlberg finds his most interesting role since The Departed in a film that’s heavy on atmosphere and suspense but shy of a full deck when it comes to characterisation.

After "Frozen," Disney delivers a heart-melter. The sweet, witty main pairing focuses a potentially busy, derivative super-group tale. Stay for the sting: Big Hero 7 is practically a given.

If not quite on a par with PTA’s best, this is still a richly intoxicating brew of humour, violence and melancholy.

Never sure if it wants to be a hard-edged character drama or pacy action-thriller, Son Of A Gun has plenty to admire between the tonal wobbles.

An oblique, overlong film from French fashion designer Agnès B, whose arty flourishes and wooden dialogue are as intrusive as the blaring Vivaldi score.

This muted procedural promises more than it can deliver.

Korean maestro Bong Joon-ho’s (The Host) playfully off-kilter Hitchcockian thriller refuses to play by genre rules, stir-frying slow-burn menace and Freudian drama into unpredictable combinations.

Haggis struggles to make his presence felt over ludicrous thrills, but Crowe is superb and the entertainment factor high.

A challenging watch, steeped in numbing horror.

A sombre crimer that resists easy thrills, investing instead in grit, intelligence and complex characterisation.

It plays like Frankenstein meets Blade Runner via Hitchcock haunted by the ghosts of Charles Dickens’ Great Expectations, in a film that’s both highly literate and steeped in tense cat-and-mouse chills. Thematically epic – it demands to be seen at least twice and should fuel hours of debate — structurally it’s as lithe as Ava’s perfect mesh frame.

It’s too raw and difficult for one target audience, but the erratic tone might leave sick puppies equally nonplussed. Gunn’s jibes at Bible-bashers and gun-nuts are as blunt as Frank’s attacks, and the clash of kooky comedy and violence is as awkward as it is ugly.

Arrietty’s craft and charm will invite universal acclaim.

Initially promising, this Aussie weepie branches unconvincingly into magic realism, with symbolism so clunky it hampers Gainsbourg’s involving turn.

Handicapped by its paper-thin premise, even a strong cast can’t lift Jake ‘son of Ridley’ Scott’s film out of indie-by-numbers mediocrity.

Sadly, rather than provide insight into Boateng’s creative process, director Varon Bonicos is dazzled by the globetrotting, celeb-schmoozing lifestyle.

It’s technically a doc, but neither Rivers nor his inscrutable subject is interested in backstory.

It’s a poetic elegy to a lost tribe that conjures up the Meryans’ secret lifestyle via surreal rituals and stunning widescreen visuals, although an over-explained voiceover and clunky symbolism sometimes weaken the spell.

Matthew Akers’ document of the event skews close to hagiography but is consistently informative in charting Abramović’s career, and genuinely engaging thanks to his subject’s witty, unpretentious presence.

The resulting puff-piece is a warning to crusading filmmakers about what happens after they’ve beaten the system.

Astonishing macro-photography captures the bees in all their surreal beauty, presenting a tribute to nature’s “messenger of love” and a warning of what might be lost.

Im Sang-Soo’s exposé of a Seoul family corporation is stymied by a humourless regurgitation of observations about power, corruption and lies.

Terence Nance’s unique film, freely mixing autobiography, animation and artiness, is a dizzyingly complex collage about romance and memory.

Propelled by Lust’s performance, this is a fascinating study of solitude and sociopathic obsession, up to a point.