“Not for the faint of heart” and “strong stomach required” seem slightly inadequate as warnings for Bone Tomahawk, an unsettling and effective western/horror hybrid from writer/director S Craig Zahler. So yes, let’s get the warnings out of the way upfront: contains extremely graphic 18-certificate scenes of violence, blood, gore and dismemberment. Think The Searchers meets an early 1980s video nasty like Cannibal Ferox.

To his credit, Zahler knows how to use such extreme gore very effectively. Early potentially gruesome sequences are restrained in comparison with the latter segment of the film. Instead, Zahler wisely builds his story slowly, opening with an unsettling sequence of two murderous thieves inadvertently violating the taboo of a Native American burial ground and thus incurring their wrath. However, this group are not any known Native American tribe but rather a savage, nightmarish, cannibal breed known as troglodytes by both other Native Americans and western settlers alike. They are a seemingly supernatural, demonic menace; entirely other, resembling orcs rather than humans. And they are very, very deadly.

Seeking vengeance, the troglodytes kill one of the two thieves then pursue the other to a nearby town. The surviving thief is promptly arrested by Sheriff Hunt (Kurt Russell) with disastrous results leading to captives being taken by the troglodytes. A rescue mission is promptly undertaken by Hunt, his deputy Chicory (Richard Jenkins), a bigoted but enigmatic wealthy Indian killer called Brooder (Matthew Fox), and Arthur (Patrick Wilson) a temporarily crippled cowhand who insists on going because his wife Samantha (Lili Simmons) was one of those captured.

During their quest, the film takes time to get to know these flawed but fascinating characters, and consequently the audience ends up really rooting for them. Performances are all solid, with Kurt Russell being the clear stand-out. Even Fox’s Brooder, who obviously draws some inspiration from John Wayne’s character in The Searchers, is compelling albeit repellent. Also, because utter barbarism is what they are up against, whatever shades of grey exists amongst the posse seems positively squeaky clean in comparison. In short, this does what The Hateful Eight did not despite being the technically more proficient movie: it gives us someone to root for.

Then, as I mentioned earlier, it gets violent. Really violent. And gory. Really gory. You might end up watching from between your fingers, but Bone Tomahawk is a very satisfying genre bending movie for those who have the constitution for it. I’d say it’s destined for cult status.

Loosely based on a seventh-century Chinese folk tale, The Assassin concerns royal executioner Yinniang, who has a crisis of conscience during the dying embers of the Tang Dynasty, when the Emperor tried to regain control over increasingly defiant provinces.

The first thing to report is that the film is one of the most superbly shot in recent memory, and really must be seen on a big screen. Filmed in mostly Academy ratio 1:33 format, the extra height allows director Hou Hsiao-Hsien and cinematographer Ping Bin Lee some truly magnificent compositions. From the opening monochrome prologue to the dazzling title card shot – a melancholy sunset over a pond – to candlelit interiors where figures are glimpsed lurking behind veils, and spectacular outdoor images of silver birch, cliffs, mountains, mist covered rivers and remote settlements in both golden sunlit and bleak winter landscapes, this is the textbook definition of achingly beautiful.

Featuring impeccable, restrained performances, The Assassin certainly will test the patience of some audiences, especially those expecting an action packed saga akin to Ang Lee’s Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon or Zhang Yimou’s Hero or House of Flying Daggers. This is a much quieter affair, though no less effective in its very limited fight scenes. In fact, they are arguably all the more dramatic for being interspersed with long but compelling tableaux sequences of silence or slow conversation, often consisting of lingering static shots.

Themes of honour, love vs duty and political skulduggery are all intriguingly explored, along with a hint of black magic and the supernatural. That said the plot can be a touch hard to follow at times, with exposition taking a backseat to atmosphere. The symbolism of plants, costumes and colour may also be lost on western viewers unfamiliar with the cultural semiotics in tales of this kind. However, even if you lose your way a little with the story and symbolism, this is a subtle and sublime film worth getting lost in. Not one for the casual cinemagoer perhaps, but definitely highly recommended to the seasoned cineaste.

To quote Vyvyan from The Young Ones: “Even mindless violence seems boring today.”

I am not familiar with the Deadpool source material, but given the sheer level of foaming at the mouth from those I know that devour comics, I was intrigued to see the film that many of them are proclaiming to be a masterpiece. After viewing it however, I must confess I am rather at a loss to explain their enthusiasm.

Clearly director Tim Miller is aiming for the disreputable tone of anarchic, iconoclastic movies like Kingsman: The Secret Service, or more obviously Kick-Ass, with all manner of f-word laden gratuitous violence, sex and a string of potty-mouthed jokes. Consider yourself duly warned: Deadpool is absolutely not for children.

The threadbare plot involves a sort-of origin story told in flashback detailing how Wade Wilson (Ryan Reynolds) came to be Deadpool, after volunteering for experimental surgery when he is diagnosed with terminal cancer. Prior to this we see him meet, have vigorous sex with and fall for Vanessa (Morena Baccarin – Brody’s wife from TV’s Homeland). This romance would more effective were it not for the fact that I find Wade an incredibly irritating character. By contrast, Vanessa is much more likeable, even if she does effectively come off as a nerd’s fantasy girlfriend.

Along the way, Wade brushes shoulders with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead from the X-Men franchise, cue stupid “meta” jokes about not being sure whether Professor Xavier is Stewart or McAvoy these days, or that the studio couldn’t afford additional X-Men for this film. Frankly Deadpool’s spoofy self-awareness, which includes fourth wall breaking and a ton of smug, self-congratulatory, self-consciously hip jokes, becomes really quite wearing. Give me old fashioned proper storytelling any day.

I don’t mind films being offensive, but Deadpool felt as though it were trying too hard to be offensive for no good reason. Instead it came off as tiresome and frankly a bit boring. It lacks the satirical bite and unexpected charm of the afore-mentioned Kick-Ass which had surprising depths beyond its mindless violence and Daily Mail baiting child actors spewing obscenities. The only time I really laughed in Deadpool was during the self-deprecating opening credits (“Directed by an Overpaid Tool”, “Starring a British Bad Guy”, for instance).

Perhaps I am in a minority as everyone else in the cinema guffawed heartily at every new penis joke. But much as I love to indulge my puerile sense of humour, on this occasion I failed to be amused. I get that Wade Wilson is meant to be an anti-hero, but he just isn’t a very interesting one. Really he’s just obnoxious and annoying. Like the film in general.

First things first: if you have not seen The Iron Giant, Brad Bird’s criminally underrated animation masterpiece from 1999, find a screening of this incredibly welcome re-release near you and check it out immediately. The film inexplicably bombed at the box office in 1999, despite excellent reviews. I saw it with my wife, during our honeymoon, at an otherwise deserted screening during the original release. Since then repeat viewings have confirmed it as my personal favourite animated film of all time.

Very loosely based on Ted Hughes’ novel The Iron Man (which I also highly recommend), The Iron Giant is set in 1957 at the height of the Cold War when paranoia about the Red Menace gripped America. After a gigantic robot crash lands in Maine, he is unable to recall who he is or why he is on Earth. The giant subsequently encounters lonely boy Hogarth, and a great friendship begins. Unfortunately, military backed US government investigator Kent Mansley is also aware of the giant, and believing it could be Russian wants to shoot first and ask questions later.

Bird gets top marks since frankly his direction here equals that of Spielberg. It’s no accident, or bad thing, that in places The Iron Giant reminds one of E.T. The Extra Terrestrial. The superb 2D hand-drawn animation, presented in beautiful widescreen, really, really benefits from being seen at a cinema. Certain shots, such as the opening in space, or the giant’s menacing first appearance behind Hogarth in the top right hand corner of the frame, or the wide angle of the giant stomping away from Maine having been warned that people aren’t ready to see him yet, simply do not have the same impact on television.

The vocal work is terrific, including Jennifer Aniston, who I normally have an irrational dislike of, as Hogarth’s widowed mother (it is hinted that Hogarth’s father died in the latter part of World War II). It also includes Vin Diesel as the giant; his greatest role as far as I’m concerned. On top of that, the late Michael Kamen contributes a suitably stirring music score that enhances the laughter, thrills and tears that ensue as the plot moves towards its inevitable, tragic climax.

In retrospect, perhaps there are certain factors that might have caused the film to flop. For a start, it was originally released at the same time as Toy Story 2 and Tarzan, which had much bigger marketing campaigns, Burger King tie-in meals, and so on. The Iron Giant is a more subversive offering, especially in the way it gently pokes fun at 1950s sci-fi B-movies (“Darn, a perfectly good brain wasted!”), McCarthyist Communist alarmism and the Cold War propaganda of the time (for example the notorious “Duck and Cover” information films about what to do in the event of a nuclear strike).

More importantly, the film contains an unfashionable and deeply committed pacifist message. When the giant is attacked by US troops, it reacts defensively, at one point turning itself into a War of the Worlds type killing machine. Consequently, despite the fact that this is a tremendously heroic adventure story, it is also, crucially, a film that for once does not invite children to cheer at violence. Another unconventional element in the story is that Hogarth is the teacher/mentor figure, not any adult or even the giant. He explains to the giant about morality, life, death and the ability to choose good over evil.

(Spoilers follow)

With regard to the latter point, this extended version (dubbed the Signature Edition) can now be added to that very select list of extended editions whereby the new scenes really do enhance the already brilliant original. The first of the two new scenes involves an additional exchange between Hogarth’s mother and Dean, the scrap dealer/modern artist with whom Hogarth conspires to keep the giant a secret, and with whom Hogarth’s mother eventually becomes romantically entangled. This scene merely paves the way a little more for the outcome of that particular subplot.

However, the second of the two new scenes is far more critical, in that it underscores the main theme of the story. The giant has a mysterious nightmare which hints at his hitherto unknown past. Ambiguity remains to a certain extent, but just enough information is revealed to give additional weight to his ultimate choices. The giant might have been designed as a planet conquering killing machine, he might have been sent for that purpose, but he is not obliged to fulfil that role. He can choose to be something else (for example, the giant poignantly decides he would rather emulate Superman).

Another excellent thing about The Iron Giant is the way it explores the potential both for great good and great evil within human nature. Despite initial terror at discovering a huge alien robot inside the forest, Hogarth conquers his fear and saves the giant from electrocution, thus initiating their friendship. By contrast, Kent Mansley’s continual tirades of cowardice and fear-mongering are corrosive, paranoid and delusional to the point that he is prepared to recklessly order a nuclear strike on the giant, despite the fact that by that point the military have seen the giant is defensive only, reacting only when they fire on it.

Of course, this leads to the famous, tear-inducing “You stay, I go, no following” moment, whereby the giant takes on a Christ-like role and sacrifices himself to save everyone (even Mansley). Really, for a family film The Iron Giant could hardly grapple with weightier issues, and if anything this new version is even more brave, brilliant and deeply moving than the shorter cut.

In summary, do yourself a favour and see this at the cinema. I know it’s a cliché to talk about great fun for all the family, but The Iron Giant really is one of the very, very best films for people of all ages ever made.

Goosebumps, based on the popular children’s novels by RL Stine, could have so easily been terrible. As it happens it is a good notch above average, thanks to a witty screenplay by Darren Lemke, who plays the risky “meta” card with just about enough wit to get away with it.

The plot isn’t based on any one Goosebumps novel, but instead invents a story involving all of them. Recently bereaved teen Zach (Dylan Minnette) moves to the small town of Madison, Delaware with his mother (Amy Ryan), in an attempt to start a new life. He strikes up a friendship with girl-next-door Hannah (Odeya Rush), only to be told by her mysteriously overbearing father (Jack Black) that he should stay away from her and their house. Of course, circumstances are contrived for Zach to ignore this warning. As a result he subsequently discovers that Hannah’s father is in fact RL Stine (here’s the “meta” card I mentioned earlier), and that his typewritten Goosebumps originals will unleash real monsters in the world if unlocked. The latter point Zach only discovers after accidentally opening one…

Enjoyable mayhem ensues, with enough monsters to satisfy the most scare-crazy child. Highlights include the abominable snowman, a werewolf, zombies, a very nasty levitating poodle, an army of psychopathic garden gnomes, a giant preying-mantis, and a deeply unsettling ventriloquist puppet which come to life (as ventriloquist puppets have been known to do throughout cinema and television history, in everything from Dead of Night to classic Doctor Who story The Talons of Weng Chiang).

Clearly director Rob Letterman enjoyed Gremlins as a child, because that is what Goosebumps frequently resembles, especially in one kitchen set scene involving the afore-mentioned garden gnomes.  It also has that high-concept 1980s movie feel, with resourceful teenagers dispensing the nasties in all manner of ingenious ways. There is a surprising amount of wit to spare between CGI monster set pieces, especially in one scene involving a policeman and his over-zealous rookie, and another nice running gag about Stephen King. Performances are all decent (with Jack Black surprisingly restrained), and Danny Elfman contributes a suitable score akin to what he frequently writes for Tim Burton.

There are some rough edges, and plot logic goes out of the window as soon as the first monster appears, but quite honestly it hardly matters. Goosebumps is an agreeably deranged bit of scary monster fun.