When a film’s two leads start debating George Bernard Shaw in the middle of a fight to the death, you know you’re in trouble. In fact, Shakespeare, Byron, Melville, Rimbaud and plenty more all get namechecked in William Monahan’s pretentious doppelgänger thriller. With a bit more flair and wit, and a little less sententious self-importance, Mojave could have ended up as an outrageously entertaining parody. Instead, it just feels self-obsessed and disappointingly mundane.

Some people are irritated by Entourage’s superficial depiction of Hollywood as a bro fantasy world, but this is like condemning a soufflé for not being a roast chicken. For those like myself who enjoyed Entourage the television series, Entourage the movie will be very much the kind of thing they like, since it is essentially a feature-length version of the long-running HBO/Sky Atlantic show; non-enthusiasts, however, may find it shallow, shambolic, sexist, and smug (if you feel this perfectly describes Top Gear, you probably fall into the latter category).

Like the film iterations of Sex in the City, the movie is primarily a reunion for characters and fans and the similarities don’t end there. Both are a celebration of the city as a glamorous arena of infinite possibilities centered around a group of four friends, in this case pretty boy Vincent Chase (Adrian Grenier) and his three homies from Queens (New York’s version of Croydon). They come along for the ride as Vincent rises to Hollywood stardom, keeping him grounded when he hits the big time, picking him up from the setbacks, and always having his back as they negotiate life in the fast lane.

The ostensible story is just an armature on which to hang entertaining social comedy and insider jokes

Just as there are no long subway journeys, grim ^fifth floor walk-ups, or homeless in the New York of SATC, so traffic-clogged freeways, sprawling suburbs, and gangbangers do not trouble Entourage’s LA. Instead, both shows take place in a bubble of fabulous residences, super-trendy nightspots, and fashionable neighbourhoods. And just as SATC’s girls are drowning in designer shoes and clothes, Entourage’s boys have an endless supply of exotic cars and babelicious hotties on tap.

The film’s story follows the basic arc of an Entourage season – Vincent strikes off in a new creative direction, a gamble that may pay off or result in ruination. Since fast-talking, mercurial agent Ari Gold – Jeremy Piven (pictured below), far more at home here than as genial Midwesterner (!) Mr Selfridge – is now the head of the studio backing Vincent’s expensive directorial debut, his neck is also on the line.  

The pressure ramps up when the Texan oil magnate who is largely bankrolling the studio insists on his obnoxious film grad son (The Sixth Sense’s Haley Joel Osment, all grown up) having creative oversight. This allows the movie to cock a snoot at those backwards (homophobic, environmentally unsound) rubes in flyover country who actually buy the tickets that keep the whole enterprise afloat.As always, the ostensible story is just an armature on which to hang entertaining social comedy and insider jokes that perfectly capture Hollywood’s combination of lethal aggression and laidbackness. The insider-y feel is reinforced by over 30 cameo appearances by various celebrities portraying themselves. Some (like Kelsey Grammer, Pharrell Williams, and Queens-raised Mark Wahlberg, one of the show’s originators whose adventures allegedly inspired the series) are more recognisable than others (namely various US sports stars and industry moguls).

But while no one is going to accuse Entourage of being a hard-hitting critique, writer-director Doug Ellin does permit two aspects of harsh reality to intrude. One is a constant awareness of how even power players like Ari and Vincent are a single misjudgment away from failure, and how rapid and unforgiving the fall from grace can be. 

The other is the eternal struggle of Vincent’s more talented, less cute actor brother, Johnny Drama (a well-judged performance by Kevin Dillon, real-life brother of the very good-looking Matt), forever relegated to having his nose pressed up against the glass of success by a combination of self-sabotage and bad luck. A scene where Drama auditions for a small role captures the endless humiliations heaped upon the 95% of industry hopefuls who, unlike Vincent, never make it into the charmed circle.

Middle-aged women like Mrs Ari (as she’s called in the credits) are permitted if perfectly toned and expensively dressed

Also outside the Entourage universe are: old men, unless famous or very rich and powerful, like Ari’s boss played by Alan Dale or the actual Warren Buffett (another cameo); fat chicks; and old chicks. Middle-aged women like Mrs Ari (as she’s called in the credits) are permitted if perfectly toned and expensively dressed.

This is a man’s world, so, as in The Sopranos or True Detective, those babelicious hotties are often found wearing not a lot, either dancing in the background or writhing on a bed. But at least Entourage has a moment where two of them turn the tables, calling one of the boys out on his Hollywood player attitude and asserting their right to be treated as more than just a disposable shag.

And if Vincent’s object of desire is one Emily Ratajkowski (apparently famous enough as a Sports Illustrated Swimsuit Issue model and featured dancer in Robin Thicke’s controversial Blurred Lines video to portray herself), at least his driver and former go-fer Turtle, now a successful tequila magnate, pines for actual Olympic Judo champion Ronda Rousey, also playing herself, a woman who makes SAS squaddies look like Sarah Jessica Parker.

If you’re expecting a penetrating, caustic look at the entertainment industry’s many shortcomings, you’re going to be disappointed. But if you’re prepared to sit back and enjoy the limo ride, Entourage is enjoyable on its own terms as entertaining, breezy escapism.

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Overleaf: watch the trailer for Entourage

Just what kind of beast is Peter Berg's Lone Survivor? A jingoist justification for the continuing conflict in Afghanistan? A cautionary tale questioning the rules of engagement? War porn? An intense vehicle for its talented stars? Or, in fact, a critique of the American war machine which sends young men out to be slaughtered and provides them with scant support? Seemingly improbably, Lone Survivor can be viewed in all of these ways and thus looks set to divide audiences, perhaps along national lines, perhaps along political ones.

Michael Bay’s fleet-footed, queasy crime-comedy stars Mark Wahlberg, Dwayne Johnson and Anthony Mackie but the less you know, the more you might like it. This is because the more you know, the less it seems an acceptable source of entertainment. Not that Hollywood and movies in general have any qualms about morality, ethical behaviour or what constitutes "entertainment": we shouldn’t laugh at the cry of “She’s in the attic!” when discussing an actress’s bad performance as Ann Frank, but, unfortunately, we do. Terrible stories often grip us the most.

So, let’s get the true horror out of the way first. Pain & Gain is based on a series of articles written by Pete Collins and published in Miami New Times in 1999. (In 2013, Collins wisely timed the publication of his book on the case around the film’s release date.) He tells of a gruesome crime – torture, kidnapping and murder – by some bodybuilders at a particular gym in Florida. The real story is pretty horrible. Look it up if you must.

Shalhoub is completely compelling if not totally heartbreaking

However, the film itself is a bright, breezy, cartoon-like take on cruel and stupid things people do to get rich. Three hapless bags of muscle (Wahlberg, Johnson and Mackie) want more out of life. Daniel Lugo (Wahlberg) is whipped into an idiot’s frenzy by the great lifestyle enjoyed by Victor Kershaw (Tony Shaloub, pictured below), one of his new personal training clients. So, naturally, Lugo decides to extort all of Kershaw’s wealth. Accomplices are Adrian Doorbal (Mackie) a 'roids-impotent bodybuilder and Paul Doyle (Johnson), an iron-pumping Christian ex-addict ex-con who reluctantly becomes part of the threesome after he beats up a priest.

Botched tries at kidnapping Kershaw culminate in a horrendous attempt to kill him. He survives, but having already signed his money over to the criminals. As the police don't believe him, he engages Ed Du Bois III (Ed Harris) for justice. Meanwhile, the trio have blown all their money and decide to do this whole thing all over again to a phone sex magnet and his wife… You can see where this is headed, only now there’s dismemberment, accidental death and more. This story is so bizarre it almost seems normal because anything goes in crime comedies. Besides, we know all the actors.

Pain & Gain is funny. The cast is wonderful. Shalhoub’s Kershaw is completely compelling if not totally heartbreaking. Johnson is absolutely adorable as the chunky, tried-his-best-but-not-quite overgrown manchild. Mackie is tremendous too, with a nervy, crazy energy, lopsided logic and comedy chops we haven’t seen before. Supporting cast includes Ken Jeong and the omnipresent Rebel Wilson. Bay's pace is so dizzying it's almost nauseating: will this bizarro-world story ever end? Pain & Gain is painful, mad and sad - an enjoyable yet guilty pleasure.

Overleaf: watch the trailer to Pain & Gain

It doesn’t look broken from above. Broken City now and then takes to the skies over New York to look down on the splayed conurbation. Grand views of the skyline find silver towers a-shimmer, blue rivers a-glimmer and autumn’s burnished-bronze trees aflame. Wow, you think, could we stay up here way more and spend a little less time down there in the squalor, the corruption and, worst of all, Allen Hughes’ risible coloured-crayon stylings?

What if your childhood teddy bear came to life and never went away? This unlikely premise (explained by Patrick Stewart no less) establishes the opening moments of one of the most unlikely breakout comedies of 2012. Ted, starring Mark Wahlberg, Mila Kunis and Seth (Family Guy) MacFarlane as the voice of Ted himself, is a brilliant shining example of stupid comedy made smart.

Seth MacFarlane is the equal opportunity offender responsible for a trio of animated sitcoms: Family Guy, American Dad! and The Cleveland Show. The hardest-working man in TV comedy is known for his colourfully un-PC style and agreeably obnoxious humour, marrying American brassiness with sharp satire, and for turning a baby into a maniacal genius. Ted, his largely enjoyable film debut, focuses on a man held in a state of arrested development by his bad-influence buddy, the twist being that said buddy is a teddy bear. Teddy Ruxpin he most certainly isn't.

I always used to avoid any film that had Mark Wahlberg in it, because he seemed to have the acting skills of a park bench. Then I saw The Departed - because you have to see Marty's movies - and thought he was brilliant as the astonishingly foul-mouthed Sergeant Dignam. Now I've seen Contraband and regrettably, it may be time to revert to Plan A.

It’s an accepted flouting of reality that in films “based on a true story”, the first betrayal of the truth is in the casting. The reveal over the closing credits of The Fighter tells you just how well its two main characters have done out of Hollywood. For the preceding two hours these rough-edged veterans of the boxing ring have morphed into Mark Wahlberg and Christian Bale.