Sparkle isn't "Dreamgirls" – but fans of schmaltzy showbiz fairytales should enjoy it.

Most of the gags fall flatter than a Knoxville belly-flop.

An engrossing biopic. More than just another author/creation story, Curtis’ film has things to say about celebrity, wartime and family.

Childminders rejoice: the formulaic but family-friendly series is back and it's business as usual.

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

A swearing dog voiced by Jamie Foxx is funny – once. Having set up its ribald premise, however, Strays – an R-rated riposte to such talking-pooch heart-stirrers as 2017’s A Dog’s Purpose, complete with cameos from that film’s stars – has to relentlessly and tiresomely up the ante, plastering the screen with so many peeing, pooping, and humping tail-waggers it feels more like A Dog’s Porno.

Bright, lively and funny.

From niche subject matter, Fletcher's crafted a movie that's both universal but also unashamedly, gloriously British. Very funny, genuinely moving and endlessly good-natured.

A lot of campy, silly fun, just like its predecessor, with a few plucky upgrades – just don't go looking for an incisive commentary on AI.

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.

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

It’s not groundbreaking, but the impressionistic approach at least strives for more than your standard-issue bio.

Handsomely shot but rather inert adap of mid-19th-century play A Month in the Country.

As a simple adventure story, The Mandalorian and Grogu is a lot of fun with Baby Yoda's sheer adorableness doing a lot of heavy lifting. Epic action and a pulsating score help bring this story to a cinematic level that feels a real step up from season 3. Yet, with surprisingly low stakes for a Star Wars movie, it all ends up feeling rather inconsequential.

Despite its 95-minute running time, Banks’ wild adventure feels drawn out. Never sure if it wants to conjure real suspense and scares (it fails) or embrace riotous comedy in a full-on bear hug, Cocaine Bear also suffers from moments of cartoonish CGI.

Not quite magnificent but certainly Fuqua’s best since "Training Day" and a rare remake that actually delivers. Yee-haw!

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

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

Led by a trio of Oscar winners knocking it out of the park, The Little Things is a murky must-see.

A vaguely promising premise is squandered in a convoluted neo-noir set-up.

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

Dark Fate gets more right than it gets wrong (just about, anyway), and there’s an undeniable thrill in seeing Hamilton and Schwarzenegger reunited onscreen for the first time in almost three decades. But this fourth attempt at crafting a worthy sequel to James Cameron’s peerless sci-fi double bill only just gets passing marks.

Nods to "Hostel" and "Glengarry Glen Ross" make for a cine-literate affair further buffered by a smart cameo from erstwhile Brat Packer Andrew McCarthy.

As terrific as Colman is, however, the film around her has a schematic and engineered quality not too dissimilar from Jones’ prized projectors.

It’s impossible to escape the sense that Banville’s work is best experienced on paper.

An enjoyable, if boilerplate, boo-flick that maintains an enviable rate of scares per minute by throwing everything – demons, ghosts, snakes, loud noises – at the screen.

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

A serious subject is sensitively handled in a drama that’s otherwise just tear-jerking soap opera.

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

This fearless reconstruction drives home the dark lie that Lance Armstrong lived – it’s just a pity it doesn’t dig a little deeper.

Impressive VFX and bursts of action can’t mask the fact that this is a tonally confused start for a sci-fi franchise hopeful, made up of scrap parts you’ve seen put to better use elsewhere.

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.

You might think that spousal bereavement and whimsical romantic comedy would make uneasy bedfellows, and you'd be somewhat right, as the debut from French duo Stéphane and David Foenkinos doesn't quite reconcile the divide between premise and tone.

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

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).

This is Malick turning graceful, ever-decreasing circles, though there’s a thrill to seeing him traverse hotel rooms and studio lots, nightclubs and strip clubs, after a career wrapped up in the period and pastoral.

Tries to fit in so much it threatens to tear apart at the seams, but ultimately rises to the impossible occasion.

A serious subject receives a simplistic treatment in an ill-conceived thriller in which the emotive (and timely) issue of honour killings becomes just another plot device.

With more whimsy than a Wes Anderson wedding – and a clunky third act that potholes the plot – Jeunet’s American comeback is beautiful, heart-warming and a bit of a mess.

Yes, it's effectively a feature-length vid and, occasionally, the synergy of beats and visuals slip as the manga-shaped action doesn't quite match the tunes. But it largely works, the spectacular space-disco-opera sensibilities ensuring that Interstella shimmers with verve throughout.

Creakily slick like the rest of The Conjuring series, this spring-loaded spook story hits the mark more often than not.

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

She's The One is carefully observed, well-made, enjoyable, thought-provoking and even funny. And: cracking crumpet, Gromit.

Bright, punchy and earnest, Webb’s affable sequel is tough to dislike despite its tonal whiplash and clumsy script, which is redeemed by Garfield, Stone and DeHaan’s powerhouse trio.

Irish politics made accessible with the help of a playful script, two fine performances and 11 years of hindsight.

While it hardly stays with you like The Invisible Man, Renfield is a fun Friday night at the movies.

After a visceral opening battle, endless speeches dull good intentions, and the characters lack depth.

Taking a cold, cruel plunge into its sociopath’s world, Winterbottom’s latest genre swerve is an accomplished neo-noir.

Its love-in-later-life insights are well-worn, but with Staunton on song, Richard Loncraine’s film mines genuine feeling.

The result is a love letter to the giallo genre spelled out in cut-up ransom-note writing – striking, but impossible to read.

A fair amount of decent laughs can't disguise a micro-thin plot which won't keep the kids from fidgeting. But it packs in just enough sci-fi/film references to keep fans amused. Possibly worth a look if you're a groupie.

Better than The Conjuring 2 and most of the Annabelles, this latest entry gives some zip to a stumbling franchise.

Beneath the surface panache lies an overlong, emotionally shallow study of so-called 'twin flames', possible reincarnation and learning to let go of love.

Rodriguez doesn’t take his foot off the gas for the entire 94-minute run time. There’s an action sequence about every four minutes and a plot twist every 10. In a world where so many films feel bloated and overextended, the frantic pace is highly refreshing.

Reynolds and Pikachu make an inspired combo in a CGI/live-action mash-up that otherwise adheres to a rigidly boilerplate formula.

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.

Fascinating story, flawed telling.

Malcolm & Marie is a film of the moment, powered by Covid, BLM and #MeToo – but good enough to stand the test of time.

Creepy, jumpy, if somewhat samey, it's set above the spooker norm by its strong visuals, grief-steeped period setting and lingering ambiguity.

A propulsive thriller that’ll appeal to die-hard fans and newbies alike.

A solid espionage thriller that’s lifted by its charismatic leads, Red Sparrow commits to the brutality of its subject matter, meaning it’s never easy viewing.

One of the more solid ’70s horror remakes, but it lacks the verve and potency, romance and heartache of the original. Still, the haircuts are a vast improvement...

Despite leaving its love affair on the launch pad, this sassy NASA romcom fulfils its mission to entertain.

Face crumpled, eyes darting, Jones captures the wounded humanity at the core of this psychological thriller. He feels the walls of his flat closing in; we feel the influence of Polanski and Hitchcock.

All in all, Bond 18 is an impressive, entertainingly uproarious spy thriller, with a pinch of Goldfinger charm, an oasis of impossible stunts, gorgeous women and throw-away one-liners. Great stuff.

Longer than OHF and just as daft, WHD makes for a more entertaining watch before succumbing to the same bombastic overkill.

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.

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.

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.

Coming 2 America has arrived at just the right time: its eminent watchability and pleasing lack of drama (things never get too dangerous or dicey) mean it should go down well as a cheering antidote to stressful times. But it's hard to imagine anyone opting to watch it over the original in years to come. Ultimately, it’s more fawning subject than rightful heir.

A great big bear-hug of a Britcom, with rhinestones on its shirt, salsa in its heart and dick jokes up its sleeve. Something for everyone, then.

Banking on exec-producer Refn's name, this glossy dealer-in-debt remake gets plenty right but lacks the hard-hitting vibe of the cult original, or a fresh take on gangster-pic London.

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.

Granted, the Lady Raven sequences go on for a bit too long - M. Night is clearly enamored with his daughter’s talent as a pop singer - but other than that minor indulgence, this is a taught thriller that slowly ties a rope around Hartnett’s throat and squeezes as the gig rolls on.

A glossy, undemanding confection that doesn’t make waves, but shouldn’t be given a wide berth either.

Chloé Zhao gives the MCU just the kick in the pants it needs at this phase in its evolution.

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

A sad, gloomy family drama dressed up as horror, Maggie proves that Schwarzenegger can act when he wants to – even if he still looks like he’d rather be blowing shit up.

Kenneth Branagh finds interesting ways to grease the wheels of this new take on the oft-filmed novel.

It’s too brief to convey the intellect and almost mystical ability that underpin Carlsen’s success.

There's enough gore, ideas and self-aware absurdity here to make it something a bit more enticing than merely "Alien: The EastEnders Redux."

Sadly, a generic script doesn’t aid the film’s overall ambitions. A little less than the sum of its parts, Run Rabbit Run is ultimately more intriguing than outright terrifying.

Sometimes fun, sometimes flatly awkward.

It’s the most staggeringly detailed and impressively realised sci-fi location since James Cameron welcomed audiences to Pandora, and one of the few recent blockbusters to benefit from the 3D treatment.

A slick, dance-crammed London excursion that loses some magic when it focuses on romance.

Too solemn to keep us invested in its heroes’ mission or fate.

Scott operates on a suitably Biblical scale and grounds the spectacle with rock-solid turns from Bale and Edgerton.

Rowling’s universe just got bigger and more complex, but Yates never forgets to sprinkle stardust on top.

Between its farcical script, soulless relationships and waxwork performances, this is a final chapter that will please only the most devout fans. At least the bleeding wolves have stopped talking.

Barker’s approach starts simplistic but gathers in complexity, insight and moral force with each story.

An innovative genre blend that overcomes its bagginess thanks to sharp character comedy and a wildly appealing central dynamic.

A stylistic cross between Se7en and The X-Files, this overlong, rigidly boring affair suffers from a whole list of ailments.

Grindhouse with giggles, this potboiler parody offers just enough to avoid being a curio – not least Ferrell at his straight-faced best. Arriba!

The biggest X-Men movie yet doesn’t scrimp on carnage, but lacks the heft of Singer’s previous instalments.

Series veteran Chris Renaud (who co-directs with Despicable Me lead animator Patrick Delage) ensures that there’s nostalgic value for older generations, notably in the surprisingly heartfelt, Tears for Fears-soundtracked finale. The addition of the cunning Gru Jr proves a deft move, too; the father/son, bonding/tormenting scenes bring a fresh (and at times touching) dynamic to proceedings.

An amazing story and an amazing cast don’t always make an amazing film. Too light for drama, not funny enough for comedy; it’s unlikely anyone will ever risk their lives for this.

This is the anti-Heat: no sheen, no shimmer, no obsessing over highly grandiose themes and precise compositions; just grime and desperation.

Stenberg’s effervescent turn can’t save this from curdling early into manipulative, melodramatic mush.