Search: Starring Cate Blanchett

The Aviator is a beautiful picture with flawless performances, wonderful cinematography and extravagant mise-en-scene.

The performances are rapier sharp

Assisted by the remarkable cinematographer Rodrigo Prieto, Iñárritu moves seamlessly from the arid isolation of a Moroccan village to the gleaming modernity of Tokyo to the colorful chaos of Tijuana, his camera alternately capturing scenes of hope and des

Willis turns on the charm and is so laid back, he lets Thornton and Blanchett steal scene after scene.

A sophisticated palate will discern any number of flavours running through Black Bag, but these are glosses on a traditional recipe.

Blue Jasmine has all the wit and insight of classics from Allen's autumnal period.

The film takes its name from a space defined by boundaries, but it doesn't even bother to colour inbetween the lines.

A beautifully crafted piece.

The film's charm is the feeling of spontaneity and randomness.

The reason Branagh's adaptation of the Charles Perrault tale is a success, is that it sticks fully to the formula of the story and doesn't try to do anything irritatingly postmodern with it.

The Pittster does do his best with a restrained and mature performance, but he's about as shackled by Benjamin's condition as the character is.

We see the pernicious and warped modern US in all its glory, turning common sense and science on its head and it's hilarious.

The performances walk up and touch you.

When Liz dons her breast plate and rallies the troops at Tilbury, you'll want to put down your paella and rush out and sink a few Spanish ships yourself.

Tellingly, despite all this extra material, the film does not feel slower and does not become boring. If anything, it’s better balanced, with a more fluid sense of momentum.

All this window dressing is just sleight of hand; pull it aside and there’s no movie there.

What does it mean to be a real boy? Perhaps the answer doesn’t lie in flesh and bone.

When the daughter of the richest man in town is dragged from the bottom of a muddy pond because of the psychic's premonition, you know this can be no ordinary thriller.

The truth is that this genre mash-up attempt ends up feeling more unintentionally hilarious and hysterical than impressive or refreshing.

Tykwer has turned it into a romance, with an ending that should be dropped down a very deep hole.

The pacing is agonisingly ponderous: in the screening I attended two ents got up and left.

Formulaic but exuberant, packed with quirky humour and very difficult not to like.

There is no tension, no expectation of trouble. Happiness infuses the land

Where part two merely faltered, How To Train Your Dragon: The Hidden World crashes and burns.

More combat means less time for character interaction, and by the third act, Jackson has already shoehorned in more characters than the film can handle.

Benedict Cumberbatch lends this cruel, ancient dragon all the gravitas and otherworldliness that Sean Connery utterly failed to in Dragonheart.

A beautifully shot, brilliantly acted incoherent mess, ranking up there with David Lynch’s Inland Empire as one of the most inscrutable films of the year.

As each of the Indiana Jones films has demonstrated, iconic talismans from the past can still conceal an awesome power.

Malick and his cinematographer Emmanuel Lubezki, if nothing else, deliver stunningly beautiful vistas and backdrops for his narratives and characters, yet like the characters, there seems to be something empty at its core.

Anderson creates sealed, self-supporting worlds, crammed with excruciating detail.

Has its moments of genius.

The Return Of The King is too long and slow. It has about five endings.

This is indeed the war of worlds

Potter manages to imbue Suzie's story with a feeling of anticipation, as if her life is fresh and innocent.

The Missing is an entertaining film, but it feels overlong at 130 minutes and Maggie is so saintly and cold that it's hard to fully engage with her.

The film becomes a mixture of Dad's Army and The Cockleshell Heroes (without the cockleshells).

The characters are crudely drawn in more ways than one..

Handsomely mounted in terms of both the wide open landscapes and the confines of the church, Thornton allows the mystery surrounding the boy’s powers to remain that way, unknowable perhaps even to the youngster.

From its first kindlings it draws breath from your lungs as surely and as steadily as it draws your eyes.

Eyre’s direction is flawless and Patrick Marber’s screenplay perfectly pitched.

Violence and testosterone have been swiped in favour of mind games and dangerously seductive evening gowns

What keeps the film one step away from Slush City is the crackling dialogue and the performances.

The film is at its strongest in the scenes between Crowe and Blanchett, as Marion - both no-nonsense in attitude - as they spar verbally and bring some much-needed humour to the discourse.

The writing is sharp and succinct.

Spacey gives a remarkable performance.

Some films need to be watched alone. This is one of them.

Matt Damon's performance is deliciously low-key.

This really is the funniest, campest mainstream superhero film I can remember since the Adam West incarnation of Batman.

Phantom chimes at night produce an atmosphere that could tumble into horror movie territory, but the real damage is done during the day.