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Ideal summer entertainment.

The plot produces one of those surprise twists that reinforces its decline into gratuitous cliché.

The film goes for broke. No safety net. No apologies. Believing in itself.

A superb piece of work.

The jokes dry up, because Rock is a one-gag guy

The film never seems to want to end.

Nobody plays lazy like Jeff Bridges. You could say he was born to it. Or rather, he's such a good actor he makes it look as natural as an unmade bed.

The true fault lies with the script, which brings no life to the real, or indeed fantasy, characters.

The character is more sentimental, than exacting.

Constantine is best enjoyed by ignoring the Milton-centric mythology and surrendering to the movie's lush atmosphere and wicked performances.

Its Jurassic Park style themes concerning failed Utopias passed through the prism of Sixties politics and activism have a certain childlike simplicity to them and, as such, are likely to prove more endearing to some audiences than others.

To call this Brit flick too clever by half, flatters it.

The problem with Clown is that, beyond that premise, there really isn't very much of substance.

Bjork demonstrates an intuitive talent for acting that breaks your heart.

Either the Coens have no conception of reality, or the people they write about lost the place half way between there and here.

This set-up may be a little clumsy, but lively ensemble performances and magnificent production design give the film has a lived-in feeling, a depth and richness which make its excesses much easier to accept

Spall commits himself fully to the role.

It might not be designed to win any of this season's awards or linger in the memory, but this is a hell of a lot more fun than other recent fairy-tale reboots.

Gibson effortlessly resumes the back-talking bad-ass of Riggs and Porter with self-assured aplomb

Slowly but surely the wonder of moving pictures bleeds to death in the corner of your mind

An occasionally agreeable whiff of fromage isn't enough to excuse such amateurish film-making.

This is formula fare. Nothing wrong with that when it's given serious treatment.

Wim Wenders films this dysfunctional love story in a tricksy cinematic manner, adding another layer of pretension to the already overloaded dumpster.

Flashy future technology and architecture has been cleverly interwoven with the familiar, even the old-fashioned, to create a world which we can believe is not too far away from our own.

The pace accelerates through 15 stages of excitement without stopping to refuel

There are two main problems with this film - firstly, you can see the emotional resolution coming a mile off, secondly, you're not actually sure what's happened by the end of play.

The Tuxedo is like a Chinese meal. You've forgotten it half an hour later.

John Woo specialises in the spectacle of violent death and, after a while, this becomes monotonous.

The Zero Theorem is a messy mélange of broad pratfalls, challenged idealism, dark satire, and expansive, indeed cosmic allegory - but it also .cannot escape being seen as a kind of Brazil vers. 2.0.