IN BRUGES * * * *
Cert 18 107 Mins
Almost certainly the most expletive-riddled film of the year, Irish playwright Martin McDonagh's feature debut puts a fresh spin on the hitman genre that's part Harold Pinter, part Laurel and Hardy and part Fellini.

After a confession box hit on a Dublin priest leaves tragic collateral damage, seasoned hitman Ken (Brendan Gleason) and rookie apprentice Ray (Colin Farrell) are ordered to lie low in Bruges while their boss figures out what to do next.

Ken's keen to soak in the medieval sights, but Ray's decidedly less impressed and the pair spend a deal of time arguing over the town's charms or lack thereof. Ray, however, perks up when he stumbles upon a film set and runs into Chloe (Clemence Poesy), a sexy drugs dealer and, as it turns out, scam artist.

Meanwhile, back at their B&B, Ken's had a call from Harry (Ralph Fiennes) who wants him to dispose of Ray. He's reluctant, but orders are orders. At least until he finds his depressed, guilt-ridden partner already in suicidal frame of mind. At which point, the volatile Harry flies in to sort things out himself, leading to a blood-splattered showdown and bizarre notions of warped honour.

Throw in Chloe's vengeful ex and Ray's encounter with Jimmy (Jordan Prentice), the dwarf actor with a spiky paranoid attitude and a liking for hard drugs and easy women, and you've got a heady blackly comic brew of the existential, the absurd, the surreal, and the violent.

With hangdog Farrell playing sad-eyed Stan to Gleeson's rumpled Oliver, there's definite shades of The Dumb Waiter. Giving their best performances in ages, the pair superbly tease out the film's emotional core while a splendidly foul-mouthed Fiennes tears up the scenery with a display of psychotic ferocity that makes Ben Kingsley's turn in Sexy Beast look like Mary Poppins.

McDonagh's less assured with a camera than he is with character and dialogue, so there's times when the structure wobbles, but the deft balance of sardonic politically incorrect humour, unforced poignancy, brutal violence and dreamlike poeticism earn this a pass to the year's best of lists.

STREET KINGS  * *
Cert 15 108 Mins
Co-written by James Ellroy and directed by David Ayres, this is another corrupt cop drama in the mode of Ayres' Training Day screenplay and, as it at one point specifically mentions, Sidney Lumet's Serpico. If only it were half as good as either.

Keanu Reeves is Tom Ludlow, the vigilante protégé of vice squad Capt Wander (a shouty Forest Whitaker).

Ludlow's a mess. His wife died mid-adultery, he constantly swigs mini bottles of vodka and runs a short fuse. Things get messier when Wander tells him his ex-partner Washington is selling him out to Capt. Biggs (Hugh Laurie) of Internal Affairs over his questionable methods.

But then, just as Ludlow's about to have a fist to face chat with his old buddy, a pair of gangers burst into the store and riddle him with bullets. Removing evidence that places Tom at the scene prior to the shooting, Wander and his team insist they have his back.

But when it seems Washington was himself a dirty cop and investigating officer Diskant (Chris Evans) offers to clear Ludlow of any involvement in his death, Tom insists on going after those responsible.

Before long the waters become increasingly muddy, loyalties and motives are brought into question and corruption and conspiracy appear to be endemic in the LAPD.

It kicks off well enough with Reeves taking out a gang of Korean child abductors. But between banal hard boiled dialogue, an increasing reliance on coincidence, the swift disappearance of Ludlow's alcoholism and grief from the plot, and performances that either go over the top or never dig deep enough, there's little to alleviate the trudging predictability and rudimentary action en route to the ludicrously contrived denouement.

HAPPY-GO-LUCKY * * *
Cert 15 118 Mins
Mike Leigh may have a reputation as a grumpy old goat who makes films about screwed-up lives, but even his bleakest tales generally have a coating of humour. Few though are laugh out loud funny. Surprise then to find scenes here (most notably a hilarious flamenco class) that bring tears of laughter.

Don't be misled, however, this might be hailed as Leigh's breeziest film, but there's still a core of sadness, anger and pain and, as now seems to be a Leigh staple, a character who has a major emotional breakdown and spills their churning repressions.

The overlong narrative centres on 30-year-old primary teacher Poppy (Sally Hawkins), a relentless optimist whose incessant cheeriness might drive the Dalai Lama to homicide.

She shares a flat with fellow teacher Zoe (Alexis Zegerman), has a moody younger sister (Kate O'Flynn) who's watched too much Catherine Tate and is taking driving lessons with tightly wound, paranoid Scott (Eddie Marsan, excellent again) whom she naturally feels obliged to lighten up.

The story meanders gently through a chiropractic visit, that flamenco class and seaside trip, a blossoming romance with social worker Tim and an incongruous night-time encounter with a tramp, but every time she gets into Scott's car you can sense the explosion coming. When it does, it's like an iron fist.

It deflates almost instantly and the film putters out on a sunny disposition, but for that moment you're reminded that few expose our hidden raw nerves as well as Leigh.

FLASHBACKS OF A FOOL * * *
Cert 15 114 Mins
Essentially a favour to mate Baillie Walsh, Daniel Craig stars, produces and flashes his bare bottom in this uneven morality tale about Joe Scot, a washed up movie star whose self-loathing has seen his career nosedive into a numbing whirl of women, drink and drugs. Something his agent (Mark Strong) makes no bones about loudly spelling out.

Then Joe gets a call telling him his childhood friend Boots has died. Cue an extended reflective flashback to the summer of 72 in seaside England where, raised by single mom (Olivia Williams) and her older sister (Helen McCrory), his hormones are stirred by fellow teenage Roxy Music fan Ruth (Felicity Jones).

The fact that Boots (Max Deacon) is also attracted to her leads to a fairly quick exit of the best friend subplot, while Joe's willing seduction by mom's sexually frustrated married neighbour Evelyn (Jodhi May) both scuppers first love's bloom and, in a heart-stopping sequence, precipitates the tragedy that will change his life.

Craig makes for a compelling screw up and ensures the opening scenes grab your attention while Harry Eden is effective in the more languid summer haze flashbacks.

The problem is that, just as Eden never remotely resembles a younger Craig, so the disparate past and present never really connect and the third act's resolution, reconciliation and redemption just flags.

Not a disaster, but only fools would rush in.

LARS AND THE REAL GIRL * * *
Cert 12A 106 Mins
Lars Lindstrom (Ryan Gosling) lives in the converted garage of the old Midwest family home now occupied by big brother Gus (Paul Schneider) and sister-in-law Karin (Emily Mortimer).

Since he's socially awkward and painfully shy, they're both happily surprised when he tells them he has a wheelchair-bound Danish-Brazilian girlfriend visiting, and asks if she can use their spare room. They're ever more surprised when Bianca turns out to be silicone sex doll.

For Lars, though, she's absolutely real, a delusion the local shrink (Patricia Clarkson) encourages them to go along with while he works out his emotional problems. Indeed, the whole town embraces Bianca as a welcome guest.

It could easily have played as a sex comedy, but instead, fuelled by another tour de force from Gosling, screenwriter Nancy Oliver and director Craig Gillespie offer up a poignant coming of age fable about emotional healing exploring themes of abandonment, manhood and the need for simple human contact.

BOTCHED * * *
Cert 15 94 Mins
Ordered to Moscow by his Russian gangster uncle (Sean Pertwee) to steal an ancient cross, when things go pear-shaped professional thief Ritchie (Stephen Dorff) and inept sibling accomplices Peter (Jamie Foreman) and Yuri (Russell Smith) find themselves trapped on the 13th floor with a bunch of hostages.

There's a couple of mummy's boys, a sexy babe, a borderline psycho security guard (Geoff Bell) and a Bible thumper (Bronagh Gallagher) and her two followers.

As they soon discover, there's also an axe wielding nutter who thinks he's the reincarnation of Ivan The Terrible and uses the building to further his bloody collection of body parts and skin tapestries. And he's got a sister.

With the balance of power constantly shifting between thieves and hostages, there's some sustained suspense to go with the requisite gore, but, as you'll tell from the bad accents and ridiculous ending, this is really black comedy horror with everyone playing it with a nod and a wink. And, as such, actually rather fun.

PROTÉGÉ * *
Cert 18 109 Mins Subtitles
Donnie Brasco in Hong Kong with a dash of Infernal Affairs sums up this Asian cop thriller.

Daniel Wu's the undercover agent who's risen through the ranks to become trusted heir apparent to heroin drugs lord Andy Lau. There's enough to bust him, but Wu's bosses want him to stay until they can nail Lau's supplier too.

Inevitably, temptations of money and power along with conflicted loyalties and much self-questioning begin to take a toll on Wu who also becomes involved with his single mom addict neighbour.

Keeping the moral lines blurred, there's a fascinating sequence as Wu and Lau follow the source back to the poppy fields of Thailand and discuss the heroin market's shrinking profit margins.

But the narrative remains overwrought and at times incoherent, though the central performances are strong.

FOOL'S GOLD *
12A 112 Mins
A decade ago Matthew McConaughey was hailed as the new Paul Newman. Today he's a swimwear model.

His inability to keep a shirt on for more than two consecutive scenes has become a standing joke, and here he is again flexing his acting abs in this leadenly unfunny, unexciting adventure comedy.

Finn's obsession with a fabled Spanish treasure trove, long lost in the Bahamas, having led long suffering wife Tess (Kate Hudson) to seek divorce, the pair are reunited in the quest when, having found a crucial clue, he cons his way aboard the luxury yacht of Brit tycoon Nigel Honeycutt (Donald Sutherland) and silver-tongues him into financing the expedition.

Ah, but there's complications since Finn's in debt to local rapper gangster Bigg Bunny (no, really) who's enlisted Finn's former mentor (Ray Winstone) to redirect any treasure into his own coffers. And did I mention Honeycutt's comic relief airhead daughter or gay chefs? No, probably wise not to. It's a toss up as to who has the worst comedy accent, Sutherland or, as Finn's Ukrainian sidekick, Ewan Bremner, but nobody does themselves any favours here.

McConaughey flashes his teeth and pecs and falls down a lot while, bereft of any chemistry or decent banter with her leading man, Hudson simply flounders in the hope something will raise a laugh. It doesn't, and the film sinks with all hands.