Andersson’s movie reveals poetic ironies, surreal slapstick and melancholy truths, often all wrapped up together.

Carruth’s furiously elusive second film skirts the line between nonsense and near-masterpiece, like Terrence Malick filleting "Eternal Sunshine Of The Spotless Mind."

Warm, witty, and occasionally wild, Waititi’s bush-bonding romp is a kind, generous-spirited winner.

An all-too-familiar story is told with empathy and vigour in a film arguing for tolerance, activism and change.

Drawing on their traditions of oral storytelling, it’s lushly photographed and costumed, plus dreamily confusing, yet it vividly brings a past to life.

A deeply affecting and intimate tale that rings right through the nerve-ends.

It’s the filmic equivalent of a Penn and Teller magic trick: amaze, show the mechanics, amaze again.

The details ring true and the performances smart in Mackenzie’s prison movie. You wouldn’t meet Jack O’Connell’s tasty glare in a boozer, but try taking your eyes off him here.

This franchise is never happy to cruise - and M:I 7 goes all-out. It judders at times, but when it delivers, it delivers big time.

The armageddon-through-beer-goggles approach brings the chuckles, but The World’s End stands up as a great example of the genre it ribs. Nostalgic, bittersweet and very, very funny.

The low-key tone and casual pacing create an atmosphere akin to a fly-on-the-wall doc, while a nuanced moral conflict builds through the plight of the title character.

The finale, as Ai's Twitter tirades lead to a serious human-rights breach, will make your blood boil.

Two immensely enjoyable central performances and some of the best race sequences yet filmed fuel an otherwise standard sports movie.

The Mitchells Vs. The Machines is as irreverently funny as 21 Jump Street and The Lego Movie. And, like Spider-Verse, it has a unique visual style that rewards close inspection.

Russell follows "The Fighter" with a softer, soapier family dysfunction drama, lightly comic enough to make for palatable Friday-night viewing. As its nutty lovebirds, Cooper and Lawrence save Playbook from the director's surprisingly mundane impulses.

Nia DaCosta turns things up to 11 with an energized take on the 28 Years Later world. Come for the gore but stay for the surprisingly frequent jokes and a pair of astonishing performances from Ralph Fiennes and Jack O'Connell, whose sadistic Jimmy Crystal is utterly hateful but always compelling.

Tarr risks self-parody with recurring scenes of the pair tucking into scalding potatoes, but if you've got the stomach for it this is an intoxicating vision of life at the end of its tether.

Devastating and uplifting in equal measure, this emotionally draining film makes good on Shults’ early promise.

It’s not iconic sci-fi to match Alien or Blade Runner but it is a topical, supremely crafted, intelligent, heartfelt spectacle with gallows humour to die for. Strap yourself in.

By swapping gaudy satire for introspection (without losing any of the franchise's trademark flamboyance), Wake Up Dead Man brings Knives Out back to its roots and makes for a sequel that's almost on a par with the original.

Crucially, while there’s plenty here that fans of the famously enigmatic pair may be learning for the first time thanks to Wright’s exhaustive access, it’s a documentary that doubles as an accessible, breezy introduction to a band you may never have heard of, and a springboard to further explore their celebrated back catalogue.

Arrietty’s craft and charm will invite universal acclaim.

It's perfectly possible to like the title character of Lauren Greenfield's documentary – Jackie Siegel – while detesting everything she represents: grotesque financial inequality, jaw-dropping ignorance and appalling bad taste.

Expertly shifting between present and past , writer-director Denis Villeneuve displays an impressive command of his material, patiently building up to an emotionally explosive climax.

Be sure to make family time for Bird’s flawed but dazzling sequel. “Superheroes suck,” says Violet. No, they most certainly don’t.

This moving docu-portrait of former NFL player Steve Gleason’s battle with motor neurone disease is as much heartrending home video as it is awareness-raiser.

Bond 21 is refreshed yet faithful, any grumbles easily quashed by Craig's powerful presence. The suit fits. And he wears it well.

A 25th anniversary restoration of Giuseppe Tornatore’s ode to moving pictures and puppy love.