DUNE (12A)

Think big. French Canadian director Denis Villeneuve certainly does with his visually breath-taking adaptation of Frank Herbert's supposedly 'unfilmable' tome documenting the fall and rise of House Atreides in the year 10191.

Dune - or more accurately Dune Part One - is a bountiful feast for the senses, combining live action and impeccable digital effects to realise vast new worlds where dragonfly-like aircraft with fluttering wings swoop over undulating sandscapes to monitor the golden bow waves created by the approach of a giant worm.

A night-time battle sequence in the air and on the ground is orchestrated with brio, delivering a true spectacle that demands the biggest screen and an immersive sound system cranked up to full volume to capture every thunderous chord and clatter of composer Hans Zimmer's orchestral score.

Unlike David Lynch's ill-fated 1984 film version, which attempted to distil Herbert's entire novel, Villeneuve's script co-written by Jon Spaihts and Eric Roth retains narrative clarity by only addressing the first half of the book.

"This is only the beginning..." coos Zendaya's desert warrior to co-star Timothee Chalamet after two-and-a-half bombastic hours of warmongering, intrigue and betrayal.

Let us pray Dune mines sufficient takings at the box office to turn her promise into reality.

Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac) receives a proclamation from the Emperor to assume control of harvesting Spice on the desert planet Arrakis from sworn rivals House Harkonnen led by corpulent Baron Vladimir Harkonnen (Stellan Skarsgard).

"The most valuable mineral in the universe" is integral to interstellar travel but mining the precious orange dust in sufficient quantities to appease the Emperor is fraught with peril.

Duke Leto, his concubine Lady Jessica (Rebecca Ferguson) and son Paul (Chalamet) relocate to Arrakis, home to superstitious desert-dwelling people called The Fremen, whose eyes glow blue from prolonged exposure to highly addictive Spice.

The young Atreides experiences disorienting visions of a young Fremen woman, Chani (Zendaya), as he undergoes rigorous training with weapons master Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) and sword master Duncan Idaho (Jason Momoa).

Alas, these great warriors are powerless to prevent Baron Harkonnen and his nephew Glossu Rabban (Dave Bautista) from staging a deadly assault on Arrakis, designed to exterminate everyone loyal to Duke Leto.

Dune invests significant time in fleshing out morally flawed characters and their tangled relationships before the blood-letting begins.

By design, the picture lacks a dramatic resolution but this opening chapter is well constructed and anchored by the fiery mother-son dynamic of Ferguson and Chalamet.

The running time does feel excessive.

Villeneuve and his team are determined to showcase every penny of a reported £120 million budget with lavish production design, ceremonial costumes and futuristic military attire, and at least one nail-biting set-piece devoted to the film's biggest stars: the hulking sandworms.

In their case, big is beautiful.

8.5/10

THE FRENCH DISPATCH (15)

Writer-director Wes Anderson lassos an all-star cast including Adrien Brody, Timothee Chalamet, Benicio del Toro, Frances McDormand, Bill Murray, Lea Seydoux, Tilda Swinton and Jeffrey Wright for a quixotic comedy of errors set in the offices of the titular magazine.

A lustrous valentine to journalism and the power of the written word, The French Dispatch is blessed with the filmmaker's signature visual style and some dazzling flourishes like a car chase during a kidnapping, which unfolds at breakneck speed in animation rather than live action.

His script is structured as three vignettes penned by different critics and editors on the periodical's pay roll: The Concrete Masterpiece by art critic JKL Berensen (Swinton), Revisions To A Manifesto by Lucinda Krementz (McDormand) and The Private Dining Room - Of The Police Commissioner by food critic Roebuck Wright (Wright).

This intentionally disjointed storytelling form lacks the emotional resonance and offbeat running jokes of Anderson's finest confections, The Grand Budapest Hotel, The Royal Tenenbaums and Moonrise Kingdom, but there is still much to savour in each chapter.

7/10

DEAR EVAN HANSEN (12A)

Pitch Perfect alumnus Ben Platt originated the title role of a teenage outcast, who becomes a focal point for a community’s grief under false pretences, in the Broadway production of the life-affirming musical with a book by Steven Levenson and music and lyrics by Benj Pasek and Justin Paul.

He collected a Tony Award for his stellar performance, one of six trophies for the show.

Platt reprises Evan Hansen in the eagerly awaited film adaptation directed by Stephen Chbosky from a screenplay by Levenson.

Anxious high school student Evan (Platt) has been advised by his therapist to write letters to himself to boost his self-confidence.

Classmate Connor Murphy (Colton Ryan) steals one of these missives shortly before he takes his own life.

Connor’s distraught parents, Cynthia (Amy Adams) and Larry (Danny Pino), find the letter and mistakenly believe that Evan was friends with their son.

The Murphys take great comfort in the thought that Connor had at least one friend in this world and Evan refuses to shatter their illusions, setting in motion a chain of events which propels him into the spotlight.

Classmates finally notice him and he grows close to Connor’s sister Zoe (Kaitlyn Dever) as they galvanise support for a memorial service in Connor’s honour.

However, the truth about Evan’s deception must eventually come to light.

The soundtrack includes the original song The Anonymous Ones written by Pasek and Paul, Academy Award-winning composers of La La Land and The Greatest Showman, in collaboration with actress Amandla Stenberg.

7/10

THE BOSS BABY 2: FAMILY BUSINESS (PG)

Just because you grow up doesn't mean you have to grow apart.

Those inspirational words, spoken by a new Boss Baby to estranged adult siblings in Tom McGrath's colourful but derivative sequel, perfectly sum up the wholesome and nostalgic intentions of Michael McCullers' script for this computer-animated caper.

The Boss Baby 2: Family Business introduces an experimental formula perfected by boffins at BabyCorp, which reverts cynical adults to children for 48 hours to remind them of the joys of their formative years.

McGrath's picture exploits this temporary physical regression to recycle gags from the first film, which compelled a seven-year-old boy to work with his secret agent younger brother to thwart a diabolical plot.

Pacing in the sequel is exceedingly brisk and only slows noticeably in a chaotic final act when screenwriter McCullers gets teary-eyed rebuilding bridges between characters to ensure peace and good will by the end credits.

5/10