Acutely acted, The Fencer strikes home.

An exquisitely rendered period tale, The World To Come is a slow-burning but ultimately rewarding drama of the heart.

Most alluring are the crumbling neon cityscapes, real world/cyberspace fusion and the musings on identity.

[A] mesmerising film.

A road movie with heart, humour and a lead prepared to give his youthful co-stars their share of the limelight.

Aronofsky’s first bona-fide blockbuster is a sweat-stained labour of love. Audacious and uncompromising, it’s a legitimate epic.

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

As their early fights give way to growing respect, it’s a beautifully calibrated relationship, with small moments gradually building into something much bigger. A gem.

Warm, witty and full of wonder, Afterlife reanimates a franchise without spitting on its grave.

Hogg humanises the set-up with ripples of warmth, but it’s her evocation of a horror-style psychodrama through hints of domestic disquiet that lingers with you.

No Badlands, but the best of the recent minor Malicks. And it features Val Kilmer with a chainsaw.

Turtle Power is back, thanks to a potent combo of winning humour and gnarly animation. Cowabunga!

Neeson’s knees hold up in an oddball thriller that’s more interested in smirks than smashing things to smithereens.

It may not dazzle as much as Attack the Block, but Cornish’s second feature is a fun family adventure.

With the scares stealthy, Gavin’s parable draws power from the heart’s shadows: the climax may alienate some, but its audacity is earned.

Most importantly, The Long Good Friday features one of Bob Hoskins' best performances, as Harold Shand, the patriotic mobster who's heading for a fall. Without this towering central performance, it's likely that The Long Good Friday would have been sidelined as "that dodgy '80s gangster film" years ago.

An uncompromisingly bleak slow burn, it leaves the pulse frantic and nerves frayed.

Thrilling and haunting, pitching the power of adventure and friendship against the day-to-day horrors of childhood and a chilling Pennywise. An absolute scream.

When the sentiment threatens to turn gloopy, Ali and Mortensen’s terrific leads steer Farrelly back on-track.

Taken as a throwback to the thrillers of Carpenter and Spielberg’s cinema of wonder, it is special indeed. Not least because it honours its influences and yet remains, first and foremost, a Jeff Nichols film.

The burgeoning bond between man and monster hits soaring emotional heights, even if the new world feels a little under-developed.

In long, static takes, Hogg calmly exposes the gulf between polite facades and repressed resentments.

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.

Nasheed may be a small fish in a big geopolitical pond, but his enterprise and optimism are a welcome complement to eco doc doom and gloom.

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.

Taraji P. Henson excels in a heart-warming history lesson that proves not only rocket men had The Right Stuff.

With the characters rarely verbalising their attraction, Ribeiro impresses by conveying Leonardo’s awakening through elegant long takes and the actors’ endearing chemistry.

About as funny and charming as superhero movies get. Expect it to make household names out of its title character and leading man.