What I loved most: Excellent acting from the cast

What I really hated: None

Director Michael Mann is no stranger to testosterone charged heist thrillers, having showcased his flair for the genre in 'Heat'. The subjects in Mann's films have always been predominantly male, with plots in his films driven by complex and intense male figures and this time is no different. Set in the Great Depression era when times were hard and crimes were rampant, the film is a rendering of events which unfolded in the last 14 months of John Dillinger's life, before his demise outside Biograph Theatre in Chicago, where he was gunned down by FBI agents. Dillinger was purported to be a 'Robin Hood' of that time, fearlessly flouting the institution of laws with an audacious spree of robbing one bank every two weeks. The film not only serves as a commentary on the prevalence of violence in that period but is also a derision of the ineptitude of law enforcement then. Johnny Depp plays the highly celebrated outlaw with suave debonair charm and breezy manner, cutting a dashing figure in his mafia getup. Christian Bale emanates fierce brooding intensity as FBI agent Melvin Purvis, Dillinger's nemesis. Marion Cotillard is the epitome of pulchritude and casting her as Billie Frechette, a dazzling beauty with wits to boot, makes it all the more convincing why Dillinger fell so hard for her. Making clever use of hi-def cinematography and hand-held filming techniques, Mann makes it so easy for audiences to be transported into the chaos and pandemonium of the shootouts. His visceral literary style offers a keen insight on the hard-and-fast lives of the rebels, giving true meaning to the phrase 'living on the edge'. This film borders on abstract lyricism as well. While some audiences may not appreciate the plot's thematic relevance to subtexts in various literary works, they will still be mesmerized by Diana Krall's deeply moving and heart-wrenching rendition of 'Bye Bye Blackbird', a poignant elegy for tragic love. The final reel even shows snippets of 'Manhattan Melodrama', the film that Dillinger watched before he perished, and astutely juxtapose Dillinger and Clark Gable's Blackie, highlighting parallels of both characters in terms of their principles and ideologies. After numerous robberies and gunfights, the cat-and-mouse chase concludes in a pyrrhic victory, with no one leaving this entanglement unscathed and with no redemption in sight, both for the light and the dark. The depressive and bleak ending bound to garner your sympathy for both men on opposing sides of the law.

What I loved most: Impressive acting by the cast

What I really hated: Nil

The highly anticipated sixth installment of this beloved fantasy series marks the beginning of a reign of terror that the eponymous boy wizard must contend with, not to mention teenage angst and infatuation as well. The film kicks off with a spectacular assault on the Muggle community by malevolent death eaters who despitefully decimate much of the populace in black swirls of miasma, the brutal and malicious incursion symbolic of terror attacks which are unconfined by lines of demarcation, with no one safe from their onslaught. In a bid to cripple this venomous organization of dark wizards, Harry and Dumbledore set out on a quest to vanquish Lord Voldemort's soul which was preserved in seven horcruxes. David Yates is once again at the helm and he shows remarkably more flair and confidence in his directing, creating sequences which are bolder in excitement, wisely choosing potent suspense and palpable tension over loud and flashy action. Shot in steely blue hues and buttery tones, the cinematography is sublime, with every scene a display of grandeur and inspiration, a flawless complement to the stupendous production design. The casting is impeccable. Daniel Radcliffe gives an affective portrayal of the troubled boy wizard, plagued by grave responsibilities and jealousy over love. Rupert Grint shows great comic timing and the perennially glowing Emma Watson has finally matured on screen. Helena Bonham Carter is all manical glee as the deranged and unhinged Bellatrix Lestrange. Alan Rickman sneers with wickedly subversive humour and Jim broadbent gives an arresting turn as Professor Horace Slughorn, an avaricious fame monger beneath his avuncular veneer.Still, the most electrifying performance comes in the form of Sir Michael Gambon's Dumbledore, part campy fun and part awe-inspiring, wholly entertaining. Towards the end, the plot escalates to a climatic denouement, culminating in the lugubrious demise of a key character. His tragic departure an emotionally invested affair, sure to tug at your heart's strings. This poignant tale on love , loss and sacrifice is spell-binding, and the true magic lies in the compelling human drama which has heart and soul.

What I loved most: Excellent acting

What I really hated: Disruptive flashbacks

"Duplicity" is not unlike 2004's 'Mr and Mrs Smith', without the technical gadgets and explosions, but with more class and panache. An inexplicable serendipity intertwines two machiavellian individuals, one an ex-MI6 agent, the other an ex-CIA officer, both with no compunctions about exploiting the Achilles's heel of each other in the face of a great corporate overhaul. Crafty, amoral and opportunistic, they seek to gain advantage over each other at every turn. Yet, they seem to connect very well, compelling them to safeguard their own vulnerabilities from each other. Before long, occupational paranoia sets in and distrust ensues. This romance espionage caper dispels illusory and quixotic beliefs about absolute faith and unwavering loyalty between two people in love and is also, a critque on the unscrupulous dog-eat-dog world of business magnates. Its two charimatic leads, Julia Roberts and Clive Owens are undeniably the star attraction of the show. Roberts oozes sex appeal with her seraphic beauty and sartorially elegant dressing. Owens exudes suave debonair charm and masculine heat with his deep baritone and urbane manner. The two are flawless complements to each other, their subterfuges and witty repartees amusing to watch. Between perfidious betrayals and clandestine trysts, they stir up sizzling romance that will capture your attention like a marching band, comparable to that of the delectable Brosnan-Renee duo in "The Thomas Crown Affair". Apart from disruptive flashbacks and plot convolutions, this smart and twisty romp is a godsend, a deliverance from the nonsense playing in theatres recently and THIS is what I call salvation.

What I loved most: Sleek visuals

What I really hated: About everything else

This sequel to the 2007 blockbuster franchise would have been more aptly named "Transformers: Revenge On Your Hearing". The eponymous alien robots are back, with the Autobots not only seeking to vanquish the dastardly Decepticons, but our eardrums as well. Director Michael Bay has always expressed a predilection for loud and flashy set pieces, so why should this time be any different? Before long, an unbearable ennui will set in under the tedium of vapidly stiff combats and exhaustive pyrotechnic histrionics, and you may find yourself more concerned about when to take your next loo break. At a protracted runtime of 147 minutes, it may take a toll on those who have less resistant bladders. The film itself is scant of plot and barren of subtext and the egregious acting really nails the coffin shut. Shia LaBeouf sheds his endearing dorky image for a perpetually confused one and what are those titillating shots of Megan Fox in various suggestive poses all about? The sultry-eyed siren should have taken umbrage at being relegated to the role of a mere sex object for male audiences to project their lurid fantasies on. This film does not even adhere to the demarcations of the mythology in the world of Transformers, with no tribute or nostalgia to the authenticity of the original source material. In this film, even humans can be served as disguises for Decepticons, that for a moment you may be puzzled over whether you are watching "Terminator Salvation" or this mishmash excuse of a plot. Even the resolution at Gyza Pyramids, where the U.S military rushes in for the final rescue reeks faintly of jingoism, and I do not suppose this chauvinistic patriotism will be much appreciated in a blockbuster. The few redeeming features of this production could probably just be the state-of-the-art visuals and sleek car designs, and of course, a testament to the fact that bigger isn't always better.

What I loved most: Well-placed comic timing

What I really hated: None

After years of playing second fiddle in Judd Apatow's unique brand of comedies, Paul Rudd finally catapults to leading man status in this mirthful farce on male bonding. His caricature of the straight-laced and uptight Peter Klaven, who constantly lands himself in awkward and embarrassing situations in the company of men, is a hoot. As a result of his impending wedding, he is compelled to become a gregarious individual, engaging in various mandates in hopes of finding a bestman for his wedding after overhearing his fiancee raising concerns over his lack of male companionship. Needless to say, his quest for a bestman leads him to the candid and perceptive Sydney Fife, played with verve and vivacity by a superb Jason Segel. Sydney is refreshingly honest and outrageously rude, carelessly tossing out profanities and cracking ribald jokes with no sense of reserve or propriety, he is in essence the absolute antithesis of Peter's character. Yet, watching those two hitting it off and enjoying their wild escapades together could not have been more enjoyable, with the two leads striking great rapport and comic timing not seen since Jim Carrey and Jeff Daniels shared screen time together in 'Dumb and Dumber'. This jaunty caper which pioneers the theme of 'bromance' is a lark in every way, from its sidesplitting one-liners to its frolicsome garage-jamming session, guaranteed to deliver a rollicking good time.

What I loved most: Excellent acting

What I really hated: Predictable ending

'The Taking of Pelham 123' is a remake of the 1974 heist thriller under the same title, with similar plot premises and characters, but given a new-age and modern reconfiguration. John Travolta's Ryder is the hijacker of the titular train and has replaced Robert Shaw's beanie look with a slicker and meaner appearance. Dressed in gloomy black and wearing shades which hide the feral and menacing look in his eyes, Travolta emanates a foreboding presence, making it all the more believeable that his character is capable of exacting cold-eyed and dispassionate slaughter without battering an eye. Having collaborated with director Tony Scott in previous projects such as Crimson Tide and Deja Vu, Denzel Washington is clearly familiar and comfortable with the style and demands of Scott, able to settle into the role of the subway dispatcher turned unlikely hero with ease. Augmenting the on-screen gravitas is James Gandolfini's portrayal of the odious and obnoxious mayor, a duplicitous snake who panders to the media while surrepititously impervious to the situation at hand. Plot convolutions aside, the script is genuinely sophiscated and sapient, exploring themes on sin and redemption, with its best dialogues featured in the witty exchanges between the two charismatic leads. It is a pity therefore, that whatever suspense and intrigue built up in the first half dissolve amidst the shootouts and cat-and-mouse chase sequences in the second half, as is typical of Scott's productions. What could have been an erudite and cerebral analytical crime drama propelled by a battle of wits has been relegated to a trite and pedestrian action thriller, complete with a hackneyed and conventional ending. Near the end, you may also question the sheer incredulity of Washington's character, the extent to which he risks his life to apprehend the criminal mastermind. Still, the class-A acting will more than cover up for these pitfalls, so go watch it, if just for the acting alone. 'The Taking of Pelham 123' is a remake of the 1974 heist thriller under the same title, with similar plot premises and characters, but given a new-age and modern reconfiguration. John Travolta's Ryder is the hijacker of the titular train and has replaced Robert Shaw's beanie look with a slicker and meaner appearance. Dressed in gloomy black and wearing shades which hide the feral and menacing look in his eyes, Travolta emanates a foreboding presence, making it all the more believeable that his character is capable of exacting cold-eyed and dispassionate slaughter without battering an eye. Having collaborated with director Tony Scott in previous projects such as Crimson Tide and Deja Vu, Denzel Washington is clearly familiar and comfortable with the style and demands of Scott, able to settle into the role of the subway dispatcher turned unlikely hero with ease. Augmenting the on-screen gravitas is James Gandolfini's portrayal of the odious and obnoxious mayor, a duplicitous snake who panders to the media while surrepititously impervious to the situation at hand. Plot convolutions aside, the script is genuinely sophiscated and sapient, exploring themes on sin and redemption, with its best dialogues featured in the witty exchanges between the two charismatic leads. It is a pity therefore, that whatever suspense and intrigue built up in the first half dissolve amidst the shootouts and cat-and-mouse chase sequences in the second half, as is typical of Scott's productions. What could have been an erudite and cerebral analytical crime drama propelled by a battle of wits has been relegated to a trite and pedestrian action thriller, complete with a hackneyed and conventional ending. the film, you may also question the sheer incredulity of Washington's character, the extent to which he risks his life to apprehend the ciminal mastermind. Still, the class-A acting will more than redeem these pitfalls, so go watch it, if just for the acting alone.