…a fine holiday movie for undemanding families — the action is competently done, there’s an emotional story for those looking for one, and The Rock is in top form. It could be worse, but it couldn’t really have been better.

The actual tennis looks convincing, an achievement that should go a long way with fans, who can easily be turned away by messy recreations of their favourite sport (I’m looking at you, Kirsten Dunst).

But as a piece of filmmaking, we deserve better. As a sports film, we’ve seen better. The ball is now in Emma Stone and Steve Carell’s court. Advantage, Battle of the Sexes.

Starring two convicts (Mark Wahlberg, Mel Gibson), one tragically unfunny Will Ferrell, for zero stars. Categorically the worst film of the year.

It doesn’t come close to Marvel’s Avengers, but thanks to top work by Gal Gadot, Jason Momoa and Ben Affleck, it’s certainly a more lighter film than Batman v Superman.

Broken souls are mended, old wounds are healed and order has been restored to the world; the Orient Express, is back on track. As the train finally arrives at its destination – thematically, and literally – Hercule Poirot is summoned to his next adventure. For our sake, let’s hope we’re invited for the ride.

It’s the sum of all its predecessors’ parts; as grand as Man of Steel, as murky as Batman v Superman, as messy as Suicide Squad, and as hopeful as Wonder Woman.

It’s dull, too earnest for its own good, and like Gerard Butler’s 2016 gem Gods of Egypt, completely unaware of its own silliness. For God’s sake, it’s a movie in which a Scotsman, an Englishman and an Australian play Americans, an Irishman plays an Englishman, an Egyptian plays a Frenchman, and an American plays an Indian.

Come. On.

Blade Runner 2049 is bold, challenging cinema, an almost Biblical success; like Terence Malick’s The Tree of Life, Martin Scorsese’s Silence, and Nolan’s Interstellar, it positively demands multiple viewings.

Tom Cruise is at his charming best in this incredible real-life tale of greedy Americans confronting Pablo Escobar’s Medellin Cartel. It’s like Narcos meets Breaking Bad.

Muschietti has made one of the best horror movies of the year. It’s funny and warm and touching and frightening and profane and profound. It’s a terrific set-up to what is going to be a restlessly-anticipated Chapter 2.

It floats. You’ll float too.