Quillévéré’s elliptical plot isn’t always spot-on, skipping years to a near maddening degree. But treading a fine line between poetry and realism, it’s still heartfelt and harrowing.

Filmmaker Azazel Jacobs follows up the highly mannered (and highly strung) French Exit (2020) with a slow-burn study of sibling rivalry, parental mortality and the ties that bind.

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

This ultimately feels like a story that didn’t need remaking, with performances that would have tickled in a one-night view on Broadway. It’s Friedkin’s swan song, yes, but is it representative of his output? Probably not.

Though ambitious and visually stunning (gorgeous cracked deserts, beautiful beaches, houses filled with sand), it’s willfully elusive and unwieldy to the point of frustrating.

Director Erik Poppe’s worthy intentions are nearly undone by an undisciplined screenplay. Still, he marshals two strong performances.

A fun romp with a great comic performance from Oyelowo. Doesn’t linger, but you’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

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.

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

All prologue and no pay-off, but compelling all the same, this curio plays out like Diary Of The Dead with more diaries and fewer dead.

Shipp Jr. thrills, but a busy script blurs too many nuances.

Sometimes bad, never boring and, at the last, completely bonkers, it’s proof at least that you can freeze cheese.

In a film with obvious ambition, though, it’s a shame that it resorts to formula so quickly.

An only moderately entertaining threequel that assumes a double dose of Carell will make up for missing Minions. It doesn’t.

Aside from the usual self-slamming doors and flying bodies, there are enough creepy kids and hiding knives to distract from a plot that's increasingly mobile yet running on the spot.

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.

While director Ceyda Torun lets the focus meander too much, it’ll leave you, ahem, feline good.

Sweet, self-aware and silly, the new Vacation doesn’t destroy memories or alienate newcomers – but neither does it break the mould.

Polished but pedestrian, Hillbilly Elegy is a boilerplate underdog tale that lacks bite – but gives good Glenn Close.

Some overripe dialogue and a well-worn plot are tempered by an admirable reluctance to humanise the terrorist.

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

As in director Alexandre Aja’s Horns, the action alternates reality/fantasy to middling effect.

Fast, furious and based on fact, this pleasingly lateral adaptation embellishes a console-jockey favourite with familiar sports-movie archetypes.

Despite winning work from the lead, it’s a tame, feelgood effort from writer-director Hannes Holm. Academy bait.

Director Laura Poitras (Citizenfour) charts her own feelings towards her subject, yet unanswered questions abound surrounding WikiLeaks’ alleged connections to Donald Trump’s campaign.

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

With his trademark subversive playfulness and delight in human foibles, Ozon weaves together comedy, suspense and occasional intimations of darker emotional themes, aided by subtly gauged performances from his two principals.

Like its title character, Chappie is stunning to behold and easy to like, but it’s still some way from fully developed.