PICK OF THIS WEEK’S FILMS

ENTEBBE (12A)

The real-life hijacking of an Air France flight in June 1976 by members of the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine, and a subsequent rescue mission led by Israeli Defence Forces (IDF), are terrific raw ingredients for an edge-of-seat geopolitical thriller. Director Jose Padilha would seem to be the perfect choice to mercilessly crank up tension as the fates of terrorists, hostages and commandos collide head-on at Entebbe airport in Uganda. But the most exciting element of Padilha’s underwhelming film is a contemporary performance piece that punctuates all of the turgid to-ing and fro-ing. Dancers are expressive and expertly choreographed, but the dramatisation that waltzes around them is flat-footed.

HOW TO TALK TO GIRLS AT PARTIES (15)

Based on a short story by Neil Gaiman and set in Croydon at the height of punk, John Cameron Mitchell’s romantic comedy is “out there” in more ways than one. Alex Sharp plays teenager Enn, who rocks up one night with his friends at what turns out to be a gathering of aliens visiting Earth. To quote the Buzzcocks, one of their number, Zan (Elle Fanning), is someone Enn should not be falling in love with, but hey ho. After a strong start, Mitchell’s film starts to meander before delivering a barnstormer ending. In the meantime, there’s plenty to enjoy in the soundtrack and Nicole Kidman as a punk godmother.

BREAKING IN (15)

Home is where the heartbreak is in James McTeigue’s invasion thriller, which pits a grieving and resourceful mother (Gabrielle Union) against four criminals who have taken her daughter and son hostage inside her hi-tech childhood home. Stripped bare of extraneous plotting and characterisation, Breaking In swiftly establishes the tense stand-off between intruders and a family in crisis, then delights in turning the tables on the aggressors in sweat-drenched skirmishes. McTeigue’s picture may not be pretty, punctuated by flashes of mild violence, or original, but it is ruthlessly efficient, neatly contained with a 90-minute timeframe before the house’s compromised security system automatically alerts police to a burglary in progress.

SHERLOCK GNOMES (U)

John Stevenson’s computer-animated sequel to the 2011 family comedy Gnomeo & Juliet is a lacklustre misappropriation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s private detective. Vocal performances fall flat, including Johnny Depp’s plummy take on the titular sleuth, and the script clumsily incorporates characters and phrases from the pages of the books. Sherlock Gnomes is elementary in the most unflattering sense.

REVENGE (18)

First-time French writer-director Coralie Fargeat seizes the exploitation horror subgenre by its privates and refuses to let go as she puts a feminist slant on the bloodthirsty battle of the sexes between a rape victim (Matilda Anna Ingrid Lutz) and her attackers, to echo the fiery indignation of the #MeToo and #TimesUp movements. Shot on location in Morocco, but set in an unspecified sun-baked wilderness, Revenge gleefully embraces gore-slathered visual excess including one whoop-inducing scene of the heroine forcibly removing a sliver of glass with trembling fingers from her eviscerated foot. The aptly titled Revenge serves up that courageous, ballsy retaliation with lashings of stylistic flair.

TULLY (15)

Mother doesn’t know best – she is teetering on the precipice of a nervous breakdown – in Jason Reitman’s beautifully crafted and bittersweet portrait of modern parenthood. The third collaboration between the Montreal-born director and screenwriter Diablo Cody, who won an Oscar for her exemplary script for Juno, conceals poignant home truths behind trademark snappy dialogue and a mistimed sleight of hand that leaves a satisfying lump in the throat. There is undeniable pleasure in unravelling the many layers to Reitman’s delicately observed film and the flawed yet deeply sympathetic characters, who struggle to articulate their fears to each other and prefer to suffer in anguished silence. Theron is the picture’s steady emotional heartbeat.

I FEEL PRETTY (12A)

I feel many things about writer-directors Marc Silverstein and Abby Kohn’s romantic comedy of female empowerment and body fascism, but none of them is particularly pretty. As someone who has struggled with weight issues since childhood and suffered fat-shaming, I’m acutely aware of the deep emotional and psychological wounds that can be inflicted every time you look in a mirror. I’m certain that I Feel Pretty doesn’t mean to offend. Lead actress Amy Schumer has brilliantly lampooned issues of self-esteem, femininity and suffocating convention in her TV sketch show and the hilarious 2015 film Trainwreck. Here she is at the mercy of Silverstein and Kohn’s script, which piles on misery and self-loathing in the opening hour until it becomes impossible to achieve redemption, even with Schumer.