Zootopia is really good. Imaginative, full of life and filled with a number of sublime themes viewers of every age could use to learn from, Disney’s latest animated effort is a true joy from start to finish.

There’s just enough that’s glorious in Popstar to make giving this satirical send-up a look worthwhile, and whether that happens at the theatre for a matinee or at home via a rental I think I’ll just have to leave up to those reading this review to decide on their own.

Out of the Shadows is terrible, amazingly so, almost equaling 1991’s Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles II: The Secret of the Ooze as far as levels of absurdly annoying awfulness are concerned.

Weiner shows, without embellishment, without cinematic sleight of hand, that a person’s worst enemy remains themselves, and no matter how good the ideas might be or how righteous the convictions to help those in need undeniably are all of that and more can be made instantaneously irrelevant just by the push of a cell phone button.

In his book [for Alice Through the Looking Glass], Carroll coyly asks, “Life, what is it but a dream?” Sadly, in this adaptation, the dream has been transformed into a nightmare. And when I say nightmare, I mean it, because much like the author when I use a word, it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more, nor less.

It’s hard to know exactly who The Lobster is made for; all I really know is that I rather loved it.

The film’s 92 minutes pass by so quickly it’s all over almost as soon as it begins, everything building to a smashing conclusion that had me wanting to leap from my seat and give Stillman, his production team and his entire cast one long, rousing, vigorous cheer. Love & Friendship is magnificent, and anyone saying otherwise is in my eyes one gouty attack away from objectionable ignominy.

The Ones Below is a creepy, elegantly paced thriller that recalls the searing psychological terrors of films like Roman Polanski’s Repulsion, Knife in the Water and Cul-De-Sac or Claude Chabrol’s L’Enfer and La Cérémonie. It is a dreamy little bit of pulp fiction, and even if writer/director David Farr (Hanna) plays his hand full of secret twists and turns a bit earlier than I’d have liked him to, the actual climax still packs a major wallop.

X-Men: Apocalypse is the boldest, most audacious entry in this series to date, descending into places of despair, tragedy and chaos the likes of which are often spellbinding. Even if all of it doesn’t work, enough of it did to keep me engaged, everything building to a powerful conclusion of sacrifice and courage that speak to the larger themes at play nicely.