A murky mishmash of a movie, with the lightest smattering of glorious moments.

Much mellowing and life-learning ensues in a plodding dramedy, though the glint in MacLaine’s eyes makes it almost worth your while. Almost.

Come for the technical innovations, stay for… hmm. Two Will Smiths for the price of one just ain’t worth it.

The Yellow Sea is overkill in every sense.

Less abrasive than Part II, but lacking any of Part I's freshness, this is the most lacklustre return-to-Vegas, trilogy-closing caper since "Ocean's Thirteen."

You might care to see this as an allegory about power, sex and control, but it doesn’t feel like it’s saying anything particularly profound.

Pimped, primped and dressed to the nines, Joe Wright's Tols-toy story looks the business. Like a disappointing Christmas present, though, the pleasure quickly evaporates once you remove the shiny paper.

A ploddingly predictable, gore-lite yawner.

Even an axe-swinging Charlize Theron struggles to wallop much life – endless or otherwise - into Gina Prince-Bythewood’s comic-book riff, a derivative fantasy-actioner so laggy it puts you right off immortality.

There’s a chemical imbalance here… Netflix’s super-drug thriller is less than addictive.

You'd think Greta Gerwig's bones were hurting, so achingly hip is this irritating New York indie.

It’s to director Chris Menaul’s credit that his lack of big-screen experience isn’t evident, but the same can’t be said for his cast who are, by and large, too stiff to charm.

Too rackety and hackneyed to scare, The Nun groans next to the likes of Hereditary. Only the moody, menacing abbey inspires the right levels of belief.

Fake plastic trees, fake plastic entertainment? The Lorax is immensely colourful, catchy and cheery. Then again, it's also gaudy, bland and recycled. You can do better.

Justice League’s most significant shortcoming is how forgettable it all is. There’s barely a moment that sticks, not a single sequence to rival the standout superhero set-pieces of recent years.

Taking Don’t Look Now as a reference point, Gary Sinyor’s film is turgid, flabby and – despite some committed performances and great ideas – toothless, with neither tension nor bite.

A few lowbrow laughs… but far too many one-note characters, performances, and plot points to make them worth showing up for.

It’s nowhere near as subversive, stylish or witty as Guy Ritchie’s debut – hampered by thoroughly unlikeable characters that not even its talented young cast (Ed Speleers, Will Poulter, Alfie Allen) can make you root for.

CGI wasps and coloured contact lenses aren’t as terrifying as director Simon Verhoeven seems to think, and all the loud bangs in the world can’t hide the lack of tension.

Despite mostly sparky cast-work, the Phoenix never quite rises as hoped in Kinberg’s affectionate but often perfunctory X-Men send-off.

IF is obviously aiming to be an E.T.-style family classic about kids and creatures on a healing journey. But its sticky sentimentality keeps it mawkish rather than magical.

Coherence croaks as Gout dishes enough jump-cuts, whip pans and slo-mo assassinations to make Michael Bay look restrained, but the multi-handed mood music offers meaty compensations.

Impressive VFX and bursts of action can’t mask the fact that this is a tonally confused start for a sci-fi franchise hopeful, made up of scrap parts you’ve seen put to better use elsewhere.

With the story lacking real jeopardy, the feeling this leaves isn’t quite fury, but it’s certainly apathy.

"Sometimes it's fun to run with the pack," counsels self-confessed lone wolf Chuck Norris. For the most part, you'd be well advised to choose the opposite direction.

Ultimately, it’s not as awful as "Wild Wild West." But we’ll hazard a guess that Pirates 5 can’t come quick enough for Bruckheimer or Depp.

Entertaining in small doses, but gruelling at two hours, Wiseman's derivative, spec-hackular upgrade bins the twisted wit and meaty thrills of the Arnie original.

Returning screenwriters Jon and Erich Hoeber have penned a surplus of minor melees and major set-pieces.