Search: Starring Rhys Ifans

A competent effort that ensures the franchise - and [Webb's] reputation - are safe, it's just a shame it doesn't soar.

If Emmerich doesn't quite hit all his targets dead-on, he should at least be commended for trying to take his career and chosen genre down a less obvious route while remaining crowd-pleasing.

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

Feeling like watered-down Curtis, the jokes frequently fall flat and you keep waiting for the big laughs that we know he can deliver.

It doesn't quite manage to smuggle its magic through.

The film neatly encapsulates the frustrations provided by its director: talent is displayed and interest grabbed, but in the end there’s only mild dissatisfaction and a sense of untapped potential.

When a film is made with this much love, its goodness shines.

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.

Every bit as quirky, engaging and rebellious as the artwork it aims to celebrate. Sadly, it also shares graffiti's tendency to be energetic but scattergun and ephemeral.

Two lazy fat cats with accents halve the fun.

Baumbach has now reached a point where he is parodying himself, yet he still doesn't seem to have found his own voice.

The movie lives in dreamland and ends in nightmare.

The film has a Wendy Mitty charm, although precious little else.

The world of Kevin & Perry has a misplaced sweetness.

From a technical standpoint, Vaughn and the cinematographer Ben Davies outdo themselves.

No one really acts, except Ifans, who can't help being funny, even when he's mad with rage.

In short, there's a lot going on but very little of it feels fresh.

Apart from the women/cattle cliche it is difficult to tell where the dagger of disapproval is directed.

Dormael’s film fizzles with an abundance of ideas, most of which are beautifully realised.

This made me proud that Britain can turn out solid, constructive comedy.

Being English and Hugh and frightfully-actually, the jokes have a cringe factor above the blush line.

The film undercuts the pop psychology associated with sporting success, clearing the space in which to attempt a more honest account.

Shows a maturity that embraces every aspect of what commitment and family means and why those sentimental things that blokes feel uncomfortable with have a purpose and a reason.

There’s a refreshing straight-forwardness to Gavin Hood’s Official Secrets.

The acting is precise in its natural flow

Somewhere in the midst of this chaos the seed of a comic film fails to take root.

Eighties-style conveyer belt mish-mash.

The film spirals towards the inevitable like a Greek tragedy written in crayon.

The cast are terrific, and the comic set pieces are handled with precision and impeccable timing, even if not all of the jokes hit home.

Spacey gives a remarkable performance.

Oliver Stone takes the story and gives it slick mainstream polish, bringing the issue home in a way that is understandable and urgent, even if his hero ends up seeming almost too good to be true.

Kevin Allen succeeds, brilliantly, in creating something new, fresh and thoroughly engaging.

The film looks magnificent and the performances, particularly from Witherspoon and Atkins, are exemplary.