Search: Starring Helena Bonham Carter

Wonderland? I'm afraid this Alice has gone for a Burton.

Anything can happen and nothing makes sense and reality is a word as plain as it is pointless

Something has happened to Tim Burton. The darkness has left him... The film fails on every level.

Corpse Bride is even better than The Nightmare Before Christmas. It displays the imagination of a man, haunted in childhood by the Brothers Grimm, with a twisted sense of humour, steeped in 19th century romanticism.

It's a slick and intoxicating vision to say the least.

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 perspective feels forced and wrong.

Dark Shadows lacks any real drive or momentum, struggling to sink its teeth into a compelling story or plot

At a time when safety is the key to Hollywood's washroom, David Fincher places a bomb under the plumbing. Expect to be shocked, freaked, thrilled and gutted.

Williams’ work is heavily invested in the ambiguities of coincidence...In literature, where there is room to play, this is one thing, but when condensed in a film it starts to feel like clumsy contrivance.

Mike Newell’s take does not disappoint, with sumptuous cinematography and an impressive British cast.

Yates conjures up a succession of ‘follow-that’ face-offs which equal the opening salvo for edge-of-the-seat bravura.

Deserving of the hype.

The Order Of The Phoenix is the best in the series.

Gibson's courage captures criticism. He leaps at the role with such raw excitement that comparisons are superfluous.

If ever there was a critic-proof film, this is most certainly it - but, pleasingly, it's so good that it doesn't have to be.

Although there is a lot of humour, crowd-pleasing fun and some award-worthy performances, there seems to be a lack of edge and darkness here.

In places the film feels skeletal, the bones of the story barely covered, let alone properly fleshed out.

You can't help feeling British audiences may well embrace the film's oddness - and blatant anti-American stance - which while not always successfully executed, means there is rarely a dull moment.

Even by Allen’s standards it’s an incredibly solipsistic spin on a tale that has undercurrents of the exploitation and oppression of women, failing relationships and the pitfalls of parenthood.

There is a sense of danger in performances that are called upon to hit high musical and emotional notes simultaneously.

The script is tight, the gags nurtured, the performances disciplined.

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

The textures of this film are lovely, from the grains of snow that we see blow into footprints, to the distinctive coats of the two bears, that ruffle in the wind and with movement.

It hardly helps having Mark Wahlberg in the lead. As charismatic as seaweed, he creates a new milestone in minimalist acting. It's called not acting.

The cast could not be better.

The film dribbles from one disappointment to another, whimpering gently.

The film ceases to be history or documentary and starts to topple into the realms of propaganda.

All message and no massage

Johnny Depp gives one of the greatest performances of his career.

The film becomes a road trip, avoiding many of the usual booby traps, although not all.

Terminator Salvation looks more towards its potential sequels than towards itself.

There is a lengthening here - but also a shortening of the emotional distance between us the viewer and those caught on camera.

Amini's script cuts James to the bone. Softley allows the magic of Venice to intoxicate his senses.

For once in her life Bonham Carter doesn't act everyone off the screen. In fact, she's awful.

Pure joy from start to finish.