Fantastic Four may not be the confident stride Marvel fans were hoping for but, at the very least, it's a solid first step.

Adventurer, narcissist or both? Marshall Curry’s riveting study of a momma’s boy turned freedom fighter never editorialises, leaving us to decide.

It’s not the most probing doco, but the man himself, mobbed wherever he goes, emerges as a genuinely charismatic, likeable individual.

A solid sequel that hits the right notes and entertains without ever being quite as satisfying or essential as the original.

The final act loses its way, but in the main West wraps his slasher trilogy in satisfying style, putting a blood-soaked, Hollywood-branded bow on his eras-spanning saga.

Though the action and characters are sketchily served, Brown’s match-dry lead, Bradbeer’s brisk direction, and fine support casting make a persuasive case for Enola’s return.

The cumulative effect offers a tender tribute to the resilience of his subjects’ spirits against the thrum of traffic.

A satisfying standalone launch for Marvel’s latest superhero combines sci-fi action with ’90s nostalgia. Overcoming minor stumbles, it ultimately soars.

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.

As cozy as a mug of Horlicks inside an electric blanket, Hoffman's film couldn't offend if it tried. Age, however, has yet to wither its veterans' undimmed star appeal.

Flawlessly designed, with the beautiful 3D cinematography contrasting the clean white futurism of Prometheus' interiors with the black corporeal surfaces of the alien catacombs.

 It might not pack the unbearable menace or blazing horror of the saga's first two movies, but it utterly eclipses the last two. It's exciting, tense and fully impregnated for sequels.

Sporadically engrossing, its highlight is a brilliant recreation of an all-night dance-a-thon at that northern soul mecca, the legendary Wigan Casino.

Lionising the pulverising, this is more fun than it has any right to be. The hockey technicalities may alienate, yet the demented, bone-crunching scraps, war-time team mentality and Whip-It style anarchy is addictive.

An intriguing tale of faith under pressure emerges, but it’s too slow and simple to truly convince.

A haunting, hypnotic collage of archive footage and period recreations charting the pre-history of the teenager.

Veteran French actor Bouquet brings a lifetime of experience to his arthritic old master, though, while the frequently unclad Theret captivates and exasperates in equal measure.

Brutally simple and brilliantly told, channeling everything from the Coens to Korean masters to create a blood-curdling black comedy.

Theron is gobsmackingly good as the real-life screen queen determined to unearth the victims of Fox News’ most powerful predator.

Juvenile? Weird? Gross? Yes. But also the best flatulence-themed indie-comedy-musical-drama you’ll see this year.

Not subtle (and might put you off getting hitched), but hits its mark with baseball-bat force.

Boasting a fantastic turn from Ethan Hawke, this is bold indie filmmaking. Budreau and his stars deserve a fanfare.

The toe-tapping beats of this full-throated biopic will be familiar in more ways than one but Baz Luhrmann, like Elvis, knows how to put on a great show. Butler’s Best Actor chatter starts here.

Epic in scope, intimate in execution, Napoleon is a thrilling, surprisingly funny account of the infamous French Emperor’s rise and fall.

Tough, stylish, violent and studded with stars – but like so many of its American gangsters, Killing Them Softly doesn't quite get the job done.

No small achievement. Alexander Payne re-confirms his position as one of US cinema’s premier filmmakers.

Meandering like a jazz riff, Miles Ahead is a curio that doesn't quite come off. But credit Cheadle, both in front and behind camera, for refusing to play the easy notes.

Loud, intense, violent, relentless, Fury doesn’t stop until the credits roll, thanks to Ayer’s cracking direction and a committed cast. The best WW2 movie in some time.

Chastain stalks the corridors of power with steely aplomb in Madden’s coolly compelling incursion into House of Cards territory.