We’ve seen Stiller do ‘exasperated malcontent’ before, but this remains a perceptive portrait of fortysomething angst.

Rampage was always going to be the cinematic equivalent of junk food – enjoyable enough while consumed, but devoid of nourishment. When the homo sapiens are on screen, you can feel the film start to flatline but, against the odds, a computer-generated gorilla might just win you over.

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

Pixar’s least essential franchise gets back on track with a polished but disposable threequel.

As much as Oygen pulls you along in the moment, it doesn’t leave you with anything that’ll particularly linger.

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

Writer/director Trapero arguably crams too much into the film’s running time, but potent turns and Michael Nyman’s yearning score are among the compensations.

Jean-Pierre Léaud effortlessly summons up the iron ruler inside the failing man.

An attractive if conventional biopic of French underwater explorer Jacques Cousteau.

A solid if far-fetched thriller that still entertains, even as it goes off the rails.

The sheer volume of potential readings eventually stalls on reductive soundbites about a faithless generation, but the set-pieces sizzle with style.

Sharp social commentary and slick genre trappings make for thought-provoking entertainment, even if it never entirely hooks you.

Built around a multilayered performance from Duris, it's a film unafraid to pose more questions than it answers.

With its monochrome stylings and a plot laced with ennui, it might be the most French film ever made, but there’s no denying Garrel’s craft.

With the story fit to burst with an Ocean's trilogy worth of hustles, tricks and grifts (some of them smart, others groan-inducing), at least Robbie is the genuine article – sharing playful chemistry with Smith, but ultimately stealing the movie from right under his nose.

Bigger, bloodier, blunter. Ghostface goes all-in for the kills in a brash but broad requel-sequel, sharpened by Barrera/Ortega’s ace pairing.

The shadow of subsequent events looms oppressively large, but Greg Barker’s film still speaks eloquently for diplomacy and selfless public service.

The result is poetic but unfocused.

Slick and silly action sequences garner Fight or Flight well-earned John Wick and Bullet train comparisons, while Josh Hartnett proves himself a worthy action hero on this, at times, bumpy flight path.

Careful, kids – rock’n’roll can get you pregnant. Or that’s what one Mormon teen believes in this cute lo-fi indie from first-timer Rebecca Thomas.

Adapting from Rumaan Alam’s bestseller, writer/director Esmail (creator of TV’s tech-conspiracy drama Mr Robot) paints a scarily plausible picture of how fast chaos and conflict erupt when our computer-reliant systems suddenly start to fail. But his endlessly bickering characters ultimately stop us caring whether their world ends with a bang or with a whimper.

“I’m always going to be inside your head,” growls Crowe. Maybe not, but this fast, brutal chase-fest is trashy fun while it lasts.

Like an arthouse Ghost, this is bold, original filmmaking with a pervasive sense of amused detachment.

John Cena’s a joy to watch, but Paul Feig’s latest isn’t quite on the money.

Sometimes fun, sometimes flatly awkward.

George Miller combines myth, magic, and romance to mixed effect in a visually dazzling adult fairytale starring a committed Swinton and Elba.

The culture clash comedy cleaves to predictability but the story’s specificity sustains its perceptive look at the human impact of post-9/11 jingoism.

A sombre crimer that resists easy thrills, investing instead in grit, intelligence and complex characterisation.