Lazy performances, ugly babies and false sincerity abound in the third film adaptation of Jeff Kinney’s hideously successful series of children’s tales. Though oddly proficient in the realm of physical slapstick, Dog Days falls flat even in the eyes of tiny humans addled with sugar; one shining musical interlude, however, rescues this film from joining the ranks of insults to child-IQ such as Ice Age: Continental Drift.

The director of this Jo Nesbø adaptation is an honours graduate from the Quentin Tarantino School of Film-Making and the plot is as riddled with holes as some of its victims; but the humour is absolutely spot-on and the acting superb, so we’re prepared to suspend our disbelief just long enough to tolerate all the severed fingers in the Cheesy Puffs and the gratuitous use of that nail gun. Plus it’s in Norwegian and subtitles make us feel smug.

With the triumphant advent of The Dark Knight Rises , it will be a very long time indeed before Christopher Nolan can no longer be described as the titan of his genre; in every respect, this work stands head and shoulders above its competitors. Rivalled solely by Marvel’s incredible Avengers Assemble, the Batman trilogy is brought to a wholly disturbing, yet graceful close in one of the strongest presentations of our generation.

A Bollywood romp around the West End, Cocktail is far more style than substance – glossy London cityscapes, an incredible soundtrack and staggeringly attractive characters abound while the Indian family dynamic, as always, lends a heartwarming core to a tale as old as time. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, it’s impossible to ignore that Cocktail is actually completely mental.

Before getting stuck into the gritty details of the plot, it might be best to tell you something about the back story to this film first. No, it isn’t ‘based..

It’s horrendously risky, being a documentary filmmaker. Sometimes, if you’re Ondi Timoner, you’re lucky – or smart – enough to be around when a humdrum subject becomes something more vital: case in point, a documentary about the LA rock scene becoming the ultimate study in self-destruction and ego, DiG! But it can’t always work out that way. Sometimes, you start off making a documentary about the resurgence of interest in electric cars, and you very, VERY nearly end up with the ultimate study on the futility of hope.

This gun-toting prohibition shoot-em-up has come under fire for lacking in substance. Substance?! What do you want here, it’s a gangster epic! It doesn’t need to have substance, it’s got guns! Guns! Knuckle-Dusters! Blood! Testicles in a jam jar! Sexy women! Waistcoats! Guns! Sure, it doesn’t break any boundaries, but it breaks plenty of bones. It’s got guns! Pass me tha’ there moonshine y’all.

What would you do if you only had 21 days to live before the Earth is destroyed? Would you party hard and do a lot of illegal things? Would you..

Ice Age 4 hurtles from one boring and entirely unoriginal scenario to another, justifying its glaring historical and chronological inaccuracies, hopeless characters, tedious plot and joyless slapstick by covering them in frozen precipitation. It’s just a rehash of previous Ice Age themes and scenes from other, better films, but told by prehistoric animals that existed millions of years apart. Sure it’s for kids, but a cinema full of children could only muster the occasional half-hearted chuckle and even the sound of Sid regurgitating something into his paw couldn’t mask the sound of artistic integrity quietly dying.

A Tarantino-style Spanish romp which veers wildly between harrowing violence and hilarious gutter-humour, Neon Flesh is by no means a comfortable viewing experience. With a shining cast and a cracking soundtrack, this totally classless 100-minute bloodbath, against the odds, manages to strike just the right note; Neon Flesh is an unusual portrayal of poverty, parenthood and perversion that affects you far more by the end than you thought it would in the beginning.