Rayne Wilson graduated in 2011 from King’s College London with a degree in Film & American Studies. Graduating was arguably her biggest achievement to date and now, with her best days behind her, she spends the majority of her time in bed eating pop tarts and bemoaning her lost youth. She occasionally leaves her bed long enough to engage in heated debates with other likeminded film bores and write film blogs. You should follow her on Twitter if only to reassure yourself that your life is a lot better than hers. @MsRayneEstelle

Alex Mullane is a media graduate who laments his inability to pass his A-Levels first time, which sent him to university in the midst of a recession. Also laments the loss of Robot Wars as a staple of prime-time entertainment.

Obsessed with film, television and the flavoursome dust at the bottom of Doritos packets, he has contributed words that formed sentences that formed paragraphs that formed articles to several parts of the internet – some of them even coherent. The pop-culture of Abed, the hapless of Louie, and the drunk of McNulty.

It’s difficult to write about yourself when you don’t like your job but it occupies most of your waking hours. I like/dislike most of the things that you like/dislike, probably, because it will make our time together a lot less contentious. Walking our dog, making lists, over-thinking the unimportant and looking for a new job are all activities in which I regularly partake.

My love affair with cinema began when, as a sprightly five-year-old, I visited the cinema for the first time to watch Jurassic Park. I’m not entirely sure what captivated me about that momentous event (one suspects it may have been watching a man get eaten by a T-Rex while on the toilet), but ever since…

There are sacred texts one encounters as a child, tomes that come to inhabit every faculty of future existence. Past generations bore witness to the dreams of Spielberg and Lucas. Future filmmakers will speak in hushed voices of the wintry day they sat unassumingly and were touched by the boyish tones of Efron. For me, an unofficial trilogy formed during the mid-1990s that forever changed the face of cinema. On my video shelf. Nicolas Cage unleashed The Rock, Con Air and Face/Off, and in my tiny brain a love was born. Life has continued in this vein.

Janina has watched films (or ‘movies’ as they’re called in her native New Zealand) for all the years her existence has coincided with the existence of films. She was once killed in a film, which may or may not have been because she was dressed as a mime. All of her opinions are completely made up, but she believes them highly valuable for all that. She tells stories sometimes.

Imogen O’Sullivan spends the vast majority of her waking life drinking tea, wearing jumpers, and wondering, in true Avenue Q fashion, what she can do with a BA in English. Turns out she can do words. And opinions. And jokes. Sometimes. She also likes films. Quite a lot. Especially the sitting down somewhere warm and dark and eating sweet things part of them. Not one to shy away from controversy (TITANIC 3D WAS A TOUR DE FORCE, ALRIGHT?!), or elaborate punctuation, many have heralded her as the the fearless heroine of the next Marvel extravaganza: ‘Opinion Girl’. “Frequently ill-informed, permanently inconsequential, but occasionally amusing” – 4 stars, 2 thumbs-up and a pat on the back.

I saw five films last year and vaguely fear the cinema, so thus there is no reason for you to respect my opinion on them. Most of my thoughts are stolen from four years at university surrounded by film students. If you need me, I will be shouting Withnail & I lines sensibly in the street. I live in the first act of a Richard Curtis film based on a Nick Hornby novel, and I do not intend to learn any lessons soon.

I’m Flossie. I’ve spent most of my waking life in a cinema, which when you consider it means I’ve seen little daylight in years. Despite this, I’m a pretty well adjusted person with varied interests. My favourite directors are mostly British, (Ken Loach, Mike Leigh, Andrea Arnold) which means I love gritty working class dramas where everyone is miserable and dirty.

Carlotta found herself when David Bowie donned a blonde wig and sang with goblins and Elijah Wood had a love affair with a dolphin. Then her parents told her that Jurassic Park was a documentary. Admittedly traumatised to find out otherwise (honestly, like finding out Santa was… I won’t say it), she turned to horror films and found out how bad most of them are. Now she likes writing about how bad most of them are.