Warm and witty, Free Guy is expertly crafted disposable fun. And right now, that feels essential.

Incendiary storytelling with nuanced performances, but the transition from stage to screen lacks focus.

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

The script is straightforward enough, but Lights Out director David F. Sandberg’s careful visuals emphasise shivery mood for something worthy of the Conjuring label.

Well executed if not entirely original – with werewolves, what is? – Eight For Silver is an assured, engaging chiller.

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.

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

The Monkey might be a horror, but it's a laugh riot too, as Osgood Perkins offers up a plethora of inventively gruesome kills and some surprisingly profound ideas surrounding life and death.

The pleasure of seeing a supergroup of Brit-veterans soon withers in an OAP comedy that plumps for light laughs over deeper insights.

It’s also enlightening, the Spicers and us learning things about Tom that inform, move, humanise and suck us into his story.

Besson is at his balls-out bonkers best in this genre-scrambling, mind-expanding exhilarator.

Think Luis Buñuel spliced with Hieronymus Bosch.

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

2 Days is a sparky, crowd-cheering gem buoyed by Julie Delpy's smart writing and Adam Goldberg's tart whining. Less swoony than Linklater's "Before Sunrise/Sunset," but Delpy nails the relationship humour.

Lie Laas' furrowed lead and Nørgaard's taut orchestration of flashback-pumped plotting help flesh out old clichés – at least until the climax takes a glum turn for the overwrought.

An end-game disclosure that seems too neat a plot turn can be forgiven for the elegant way Wright and Birchir play it and the buoyant note of catharsis and hope that Land ends on.

The Raid star remains an electrifying, inventive fighter, even fending off a machete-wielding foe while handcuffed to a table.

Gyllenhaal is engaged and engaging in Denis Villeneuve’s adventure in psychological surrealism: let’s hope they stay friends.

The most action-packed Avatar yet still has the capacity to dazzle, with Oona Chaplin's Varang turning up the heat. Even if a frustrating lack of resolution and some repetitive storytelling choices make this feel more like The Way of Water part 2.

Bigger and broader than before, Ron’s return occasionally feels like autocue’d sequel-making. But it spikes old news with enough fresh comic zip to keep you hooked through the self-indulgent stretches.

Scrupulous but ponderous, this documentary account of avant-garde Spanish über-restaurant El Bulli's annual stint creating ker-aazy new recipes piques your interest but not your taste buds.

The style might cause whiplash, but it’s worth it for the thrilling momentum Chazelle brings to his revisionist filmdom fantasia.

An impish Peter and an enjoyable Hook shine in this comfy, occasionally inspired take on J.M. Barrie’s classic.

There are moments of sweetness and spontaneity with her BFFs (Alia Shawkat, Sarah Steele) but not enough to fill the hole where the film’s soul should be.

A classy ensemble (Charlotte Rampling, Harriet Walter) supports Jim Broadbent’s amusingly tetchy lead, while youthful flashbacks evoke a mood of romantic yearning.

Philippe Le Guay’s comedy promises an intellectual satire on how actors mirror their characters. Yet it’s compromised by indulgent pacing and ill-advised slapstick – leaving a cosy, middlebrow showcase for its stars to practise theatrical verse and fall off their bikes.

Packed tight, Jacobs’ straightforward sequel may boast less up top than the Soderbergh-directed original, but still bulges where it counts.

Christian Bale outstrips all his previous transformations.

Laying bare his characters, Seidl uncovers the doubt beneath the armour of religious belief.

Simply doesn't have the original's magic.

Thought-provoking rather than arousing, both films explore the director’s ideas about love, sexuality and loneliness. The organ he seeks to stimulate most is your brain.

Another silly but sturdy instalment that’s as well-oiled as The Rock’s muscles. If the ‘Letty in London’ story doesn’t exactly have that new-car smell, this is still the fastest soap opera on wheels.

It’s the fully invested leads and graceful, poetic direction that give this study of emotional interiors its subtly heartbreaking power.

Succeeding against the odds and adroitly blending its disparate elements, this is a fine entry into the Eurodirector-gawps-at-America subgenre.

The sight of SPECTRE’s alligator-jawed spacecraft, its maw opening like an evil steel bloom, is one of the single most brilliant visuals in the Bond canon.

Smartly spoofy rather than sweetly nostalgic, this distractingly star-studded jaunt is fast and funny, but short on emotional punch.

The animation is spellbinding as Onward builds into a galloping adventure full of amusement, excitement and enchantment.

For most of the film’s running time, Wain refuses to give in to mush or melodrama, preferring to prod hopelessly dysfunctional characters into uneasy duels, just to see who blinks first.

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

While bemoaning how tough life has become in the made-up Palmera City, Jaime’s sister Milagro (Belissa Escobedo) remarks that "progress is not for us!" In a genre increasingly subsumed by numbing bombast, Blue Beetle’s abundance of personality might just be progress enough.

It’s a histrionic distraction from the band doing their thing. Watch "Some Kind Of Monster" instead.

Sprinting to the edge of preposterousness and back, this deliriously entertaining day-glo noir of fried brains and blown fuses denotes a director at the top of his game.

Sure, the core tale of personal redemption is standard stuff but Zak Hilditch’s breathless, batshit-crazy thriller tears through orgies, mass suicides and murderous rampages to conclude on a scene as moving and terrifying as the climax of Melancholia. Hold on tight.

Taking Lorius’ own incredible expedition footage and giving it a whimsical bent and a voiceover, Jacquet shapes a powerful portrait of the world and its soothsayer.

Bigger, bloodier, blunter. Ghostface goes all-in for the kills in a brash but broad requel-sequel, sharpened by Barrera/Ortega’s ace pairing.

Assured if not inspired, Legacy keeps the Bourne engine ticking over without reaching top gear. The action's accomplished and Renner's fine. Without Matt Damon, however, it feels like a placeholder.

This perfectly alright actioner will entertain newcomers, while leaving Blomkamp fans in a holding pattern until his next project.

It’s a step up from the garbled silliness of Wolverine’s first solo outing. Unlike Origins, the storytelling is more sharply focused here, ignited by flashes of stylised superheroism.

A robust follow-up, which carries the same brooding atmosphere and tension of the original. The young cast additions are also excellent.

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.

Injecting fun and fairground thrills back into the spy movie, Kingsman is a blast. Firth is sensational, Jackson rules and newcomer Egerton surprises. Mission accomplished for Matthew Vaughn.

A bold, entertaining riot that captures the manic energy of its lead character and ushers in a gang you’ll want to join.

Star power swings to the rescue of a breezy romantic adventure that sticks to charted territory. Tatum fans will go weak at the Nees’ use of their hero.

Impressively acted by the unknown cast, and eerily shot in black and white, Nolan successfully creates his own distinctive cinematic world, leaving en route a trail of objects which may or may not have any meaning.

The resulting drama offers a great showcase for Dyrholm, whose slide towards instability is the film’s core.

Though not as dramatically rich or emotionally compelling as Skyfall, Spectre still ranks as a sleek, pulse-pounding if slightly overlong entertainment.

For all its warm-hearted fun, well-crafted thrills, careful nostalgia and girl-powered gadgetry, this fast-paced family film doesn’t always feel like a natural fit for Hollywood’s favourite genre-bender.

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.

Beautiful and bold, rebellious and riotous, its sexual frankness puts E.L. James in the shade.

Cool cast, hip directors, but a movie that's less than the sum of both. Like its title character, Jeff is gentle, warm but a little forgettable.

For those looking for an easy-on-the-eye, brain-in-neutral-thriller, Wolfs still hits the spot.

Pleasingly silly sequel is a colourful, creative, deliciously daft animation.

Violent, gripping, darkly funny and deeply human… everything, in other words, you’d expect from a Sopranos story.

Ronan is the monarch of the lens in this feisty, feminist royal biopic, which favours queenly clashes over battlefield action.

Grungy, compact and delightfully violent, Dredd wants to hit you as hard as it can. The sequel may be the movie you really want, but for now, justice has been done.

The stalk ‘n’ slash sequences, though decent, can’t match Craven’s mastery of mood and mechanics, but the new guys understand that Scream movies are sick as well as slick.

Andy’s favourite sci-fi movie won’t be yours. But it’s a fun adventure with animation that sucks your eyeballs from their sockets.

Showing a keen, compassionate eye for human observation, Özge reveals how each of his character's lives is as gridlocked as the cars on the bridge.

A well-cast coming-of-age story with a potty mouth, Good Boys certainly has its moments, but is overall pretty small fry, too reliant on recycling the same joke.

Quibbles and conversation starters aside, The Whale is Aronofsky's kindest work to date, a film that asks its audience to practice acceptance, understanding, empathy, and forgiveness.

Big vistas and big names can’t compensate for the film’s necessity to cram Dickens’ rich, sprawling set of characters and twisty subplots into a two-hour film.

A Frankenstein’s monster of comedy, romance and horror that’s less than its parts, Warm Bodies entertains but underwhelms.

Aja brings an exciting if less- than-watertight script to life with a minimum of fuss, plenty of flair and just a few eye-rolls.

Firth is terrific in an unbelievable-but-true tale that charts a course from the ridiculous to the profound.

If the story doesn’t strain itself in pursuit of originality, it does build to a satisfying conclusion.

Damon’s sturdy presence just about holds it together, while Breslin shows some impressive chops as the daughter who is too aware of his failings to see him as her saviour. By the end, though, the still waters McCarthy seeks to navigate don’t run deep so much as dry – a consequence, you suspect, of trying to cram too many genres into one star vehicle.

A low-key charmer, this lovingly-crafted, melancholic movie is a big, comforting hug of a film.

We’ve all been waiting for Gadot, and it was worth it. A much-needed blockbuster full of humour, spectacle and optimism.

Following the buddy-cop handbook to the letter, The Heat is derivative stuff, but McCarthy gives it the kick it needs to keep rolling along.

If the film isn’t quite as inventive as the game-changing horror that was Cabin in the Woods (which boasted Joss Whedon as co-scripter), it’s infused with affection and craft.

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.

George Miller combines myth, magic, and romance to mixed effect in a visually dazzling adult fairytale starring a committed Swinton and Elba.

This portrait of an alienated culture funnelling its rage into gun violence is itself too cold and distant to connect.

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

[A] fresh, eerie twist on urban horror.

The ensuing drama is typically Scandinavian in the best way possible – the setting's beautiful, the tensions slow-burning. Meanwhile, musical interludes courtesy of a barbershop quartet lend a playful undertone.

The Violators suffers from inevitable comparisons to Andrea Arnold’s Fish Tank, but is anchored by McQueen’s terrific performance in her feature debut.

Kneel before shannon. His primal, powerhouse turn drives this criminal biopic. the film won’t win any prizes for originality, but its star proves he’s a real man of steel.

Acutely acted, The Fencer strikes home.

Testosterone, muscles, action, guns and cars… it’s Fast & Furious business as usual. Could be tighter, mind, and the constant dick-measuring gets a little wearying.

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.

Careful, kids – rock’n’roll can get you pregnant. Or that’s what one Mormon teen believes in this cute lo-fi indie from first-timer Rebecca Thomas.

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.

It’s not great Scott, but House Of Gucci still offers a fine excuse to vicariously experience the lifestyles of the rich and shameless.

This honest, if not funny, comedy is all about Celeste. If anyone can make you sympathise with affluent LA yuppies, Rashida Jones can.

Ellis has a real flair for action – the assassination scene is heart-stopping – but patchy accents, strange pacing and an overstretched budget nearly scupper proceedings.

It may not have the jeopardy of Touching The Void, but when Tenzing Norgay and Edmund Hillary finally reach the summit, we’re treated to an early candidate for one of 2014’s most transcendent film moments. This is genuinely inspirational stuff, and then some.

An exploitation movie that, paradoxically, exhibits too much good taste. Still, expect “Saws all!” to become a 2018 catchphrase.