Alex Godfrey

If you’re not up for a film that’s nearly three hours of wall-to-wall fighting, this chapter might get on your wick. That fighting, though, is a bone-crunching, butt-clenching masterclass.

Quantumania isn’t as wacky as it should be, and the humongous stakes feel oddly small. But where else do you get a wild Jonathan Majors, an intense Michelle Pfeiffer and talking broccoli?

A beguiling and often brutal look at the life of a donkey, this hijacks your heart, your mind, your ears and your eyes from start to finish.

In two-and-a-half hours, a decade of Spielberg’s own life flies by. An autopsy of a marriage and a homage to invention, it’s a bittersweet piece of joy.

Guillermo del Toro’s perspective runs through every frame of this unique retelling, which isn’t afraid to tackle troubling themes. A sincere, soulful exploration of what it means to be human.

Both a coming of age and an exploration of an era, this self-biographical reminiscence feels both regretful and hopeful – a filmmaker trying to make peace. It’s not sugar-coated, but it’s full of love.

Strawberry Mansion is hugely ambitious, even more so because it doesn’t quite have the resources to realise its own dreams. Nonetheless, it’s a soulful, adorable and unique little trip.

Though not without charm, and some splendid CGI, this scattershot grab-bag of good intentions results in a bit of an emotional flatline. This puppet will not tug on your heartstrings.

A claustrophobic portrait of pre-adolescent turmoil, this is an exceptionally taut drama. It’s Wandel’s debut feature, and it feels like she’s been preparing for it her whole life.

A beguiling and beautiful film about a total toerag, Red Rocket is a unique character study: Mikey Saber will charm your socks off, and you’ll hate him for it.

There’s palpable dread throughout this stagey but nevertheless evocative whirlwind of dysfunction. It’s a gripping, appropriately stifling experience, and the feelings — the fear, the disappointment, the unhappiness — hit home.

Resurrections suffers from an identity crisis, going from being supremely fun and knowing to weirdly pedestrian. It’s a slippery mish-mash— entertaining in big bursts but ultimately a little hollow.

This charmingly odd tribute to Sorrentino’s formative years is slighter than it possibly deserves to be, but when it’s this handsome, who cares? Will have you absolutely salivating for Italy.

It’s hard to take House Of Gucci seriously, because it never seems to take itself seriously. Yet with such glee being had by those involved, it’s an infectious, bizarro bit of fun.

As stirring and heart-warming as you’d like, this is a hugely touching family opus. It’s nothing revolutionary, but it’s straight from the heart and gets you in the gut.

A film as sweet as it is sad, as pertinent as it is absurd, Limbo is an experience where not much seems to happen but where little things mean the world.

A perfectly painted portrait that also makes for sharp social commentary, this just goes to show what you can do with a tiny budget but a huge amount of talent.

While not quite offering the emotional gut-punch it promises, its many ideas never completely cohering, Soul is nevertheless a gorgeous and tender existential trip. It’s full of surprises.

While not exploitative and (mostly) not gratuitous, this is as tough as it gets — you bleed for this kid. Even if it gets a bit too much, you just can’t look away. Thrilling filmmaking.

Once again seizing control of the medium, Nolan attempts to alter the fabric of reality, or at least blow the roof off the multiplexes. Big, bold, baffling and bonkers.

With The King Of Staten Island, Apatow goes for the heart — but with lesser yuks than usual and a subdued lead, it all kind of drifts by. Within it, though, are moments of real vigour and fragility.

A filmed stage show with barely any bells and whistles, this is an endearing trip through time, via a band who constantly changed the game. And the music is immense.

There’s righteous fury here, and while Winterbottom and Coogan’s sincerity isn’t in doubt, it feels like they’re coasting a bit. There are laughs, but no surprises and not much heart. They have no love for this guy, but as a result, we’re left with something a little one-dimensional.

Sweetening up a smidgen without chilling out, this is Miike having fun, bombarding us with squirm-inducing violence while making us laugh and — ever so slightly — tugging on the heartstrings.

Sweet and sincere.

This is an enchanting little story, to a point – it’s thin stuff, but while it never fully gets the emotions jangling, there’s charm to spare and the action is dynamic and occasionally thrilling.

A compassionate meditation on love, loss and family, Waves is hyper-stylish yet emotionally grounded. Despite some very high drama, it has a huge heart, and hits you where it hurts.

Somewhere between a primal scream, a self-acceptance and even a forgiveness of sorts, this is an utterly unique bit of autobiography. Brave, bold, and a little batshit.