David F. Sandberg directs Asher Angel, Zachary Levi and Mark Strong in this DC superhero flick where a teenage boy can switch into a magical adult superhero’s body just by saying his name.

“Hands!… Lightning from my hands!… Lightning from my hands!” In an age of overblown Endgames and ridiculous Aquamans, it is nice to see a comic book adaptation happy to exist on its own smaller yet entertaining terms. For a lot of the running time Shazam! is an utter blast. Fuelled by an all-in comic performance by Zachary Levi, it is a film that has cribbed from Big and The Goonies as much as it has from Deadpool or Black Panther. It sets out to make a thrilling family comedy. Sure, the monster effects and design might be a little too scary for tots… but I’m not a toddler or a parent so check out those awesome scary monsters. A gloopy, visceral threat for our hero in training to overcome. I laughed out loud at the witty body swap awkwardness many times, I was transfixed when the kids were in danger from fantasy peril. I left the cinema giddy by the neat solution to the narrative and the rich mythology left to be explored again. It is not a perfect blockbuster, Asher Angel doesn’t match Zachary Levi’s personality so you never really feel like Shazam and Billy Batson are the same character. There are also some soapy middle act doings that slow down the hilarious montages of irresponsible power use and zippy action. But all in all this proves simple, effective big budget daftness hitting the same sweet spot as the first Ant-Man. Not life changing, nor universe shattering but all the sweeter for it.

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Tono Errando, Fernando Trueba and Javier Mariscal direct Limara Meneses, Eman Xor Oña and Mario Guerra in this animated period romance following the on-off affair between a Cuban singer and pianist.

Cartoons having sex. It is always weird. The romance is stock, yet warm. The music keeps things flowing even when the quality of the animation drops. The recreation of Cuba is superb. A country largely unchanged, architecture -wise, since the revolution, this looks the part and took me down memory lane back to one of my favourite holidays.

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Ti West directs Sara Paxton, Pat Healy and Kelly McGillis in this ghost story where a pair of amateur ghost hunters work the lobby of a closing down haunted hotel.

Ti West can do atmosphere on a low budget in his sleep. This is all cheeky tease though, very little spookhouse. In fact there is more farcical comedy than ghastliness as the hipster odd couple kill time. Clerks with an occasional jump scare. Sara Paxton manages to add some sparkle to a thin lead role.

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Jon Amiel directs Sigourney Weaver, Holly Hunter and Dermot Mulroney in this thriller about an agoraphobic serial killer expert who starts to notice a pattern in a new batch of murders.

I don’t think it is controversial to say the actors involved are far superior to the plodding workmanlike thriller they are in. Considering this was released in the same season as Se7en, it almost feels like a product from an alternative universe. Forgettable.

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Bob Rafelson directs Debra Winger, Theresa Russell and Sami Frey in this cat and mouse thriller where a Justice Department bookworm uncovers a mysterious woman marrying and killing off millionaires with alarming frequency.

A proto Basic Instinct. Black Widow was exactly the type of glossy thriller my parents would rent from the video shop in the 1980s. Sexy, glamorous, formulaic. A gorgeous serial killer (Theresa Russell is electric here) who enters a game of seduction and betrayal with the ‘cop’ investigating her. The lesbian undertones are obvious… yet muted wherever possible. I doubt a modern day remake would be quite so coy. In fact every element of Black Widow works except the diluted storytelling choices. Debra Winger is the box office draw so she gets more screen-time. We get 40 minutes of her chafing against the men in her department who underestimate her in the first act. This means we rush through the first few seductions and murders by Russell’s femme fatale. Dennis Hopper’s presence as an early victim is literally blink and you’ll miss it. And not in a playful Drew Barrymore in Scream kinda way. In a studio mandated, editing room fumble kinda way. Likewise the ending where everything is tied off slightly too neatly comes from an era where the bad girl must be punished. These days, if such films were still made with any frequency, Russell’s deadly enchantress would be given the Hannibal Lecter coda… eyeing up her next prey, victorious despite obstacles only a true evil mastermind could navigate. The sheeny end product we are left with lacks potential bite but is an easy, accessible blast from the past. One well worth exploring for its still rare takes on gender and fluid sexuality in a mainstream US release.

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Carol Morley directs Patricia Clarkson, Mamie Gummer and Toby Jones in this detective drama where a tough cop finds herself investigating a crime involving metaphysics and family secrets.

Numbingly off key, one note, over reaching. This had rave reviews in The Guardian and Sight & Sound. Those who didn’t walk out of my matinee screening left looking glumly shellshocked at the wrap up. Not by any narrative revelation contained within, just by the waste of time and talent. The seemingly endless waste.

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John Quested directs Albert Finney, Martin Sheen and Susannah York in this heist drama where an honest architect is drawn into a major crime by a career thief.

Very difficult to recommend Loophole. The plotting is standard stuff. The production values workmanlike. Just when the big job reaches its cliffhanger finale, it ends abruptly, leaping forward in time to show us how where the leads ended up, frustratingly not how they got there. Yet it is strangely entrancing. The location shoot has a similar lost, yet ghostly familiar, London vibe as The Long Good Friday. And the two stars, while unstretched by their stock, one note roles, have a lovely chemistry. Both Finney and Sheen never really felt like Hollywood actors, so watching the movie outsiders play off each other has a sweet harmony, making something out of nothing.

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Stuart Walker directs Henry Hull, Warner Oland and Valerie Hobson in this the original werewolf movie from Universal.

So this is where it all started. Not as well acted or as compelling as the sad mythical Lon Chaney film that followed it, this still has its charms. Hull is a dull monster lead but the cast around him are pretty vivacious, Oland and Hobson do memorable full fat work. There’s an alternative lycanthrope lore involving loved ones and curative flowers that feels unexplored by later movies. Once we breakout into slum London, the film becomes a daft Jekyll and Hyde movie. One where the comic relief is old gin soaked landladies punching each other’s lights out. A curio, not without its pleasures.

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 J.A. Bayona directs Naomi Watts, Ewan McGregor and Tom Holland in this disaster movie following a real life family’s trauma and separation during the 2004 Indian Ocean tsunami.

Bayona drowns us in the horror of the tidal wave in the first act. An exhaustingly realistic set piece, a bravura 10 minutes of cinema. The remaining film swings from gut wrenching manipulation to mawkish hope. You really feel your emotions being worked over by the unlikely twists and tragic red herrings. For a long old time it feels like a movie about a teenage boy trying to avoid ogling his dying mum’s naked flesh – unfortunate. Watts, McGregor and Holland all put in peerless work. It is a well acted tear jerker, that works best in its dynamic rollercoaster moments.

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