From Chocolat to Eat Drink Man Woman and Willy Wonka And The Chocolate Factory, food in films has always gone down a treat. The latest food-frenzy feature to hit the big-screen, Julie & Julia, attests that once again meal movies can successfully satisfy all range of appetites. The film has all the right ingredients; Meryl Streep and Amy Adams lead an all-star cast that includes the likes of Stanley Tucci, Chris Messina, and Linda Emond - plus an amusing appearance from Jane Lynch.

Written and directed with the sharp and effortless wit of Nora Ephron, Julie & Julia is a story of two halves. The first follows that of Julie Powell (Amy Adams), an unfulfilled, unhappy New Yorker who finds comfort in cooking and, at times, her husband. Whilst searching for something to fill her time, Julie decides to start a blog, charting her progress as she attempts to cook all 524 recipes in Child's legendary foodie tome, Mastering The Art Of French Cooking, in 365 days. Needless to say, it's not one to be seen on an empty stomach.

Halfway around the world and half a century earlier, Julia Child (Meryl Streep) is strolling the streets of Paris, equally restless and in search of a purpose. The American finally finds fulfilment in a cooking school, and, with the help of a few Frenchies and an obliging husband, she set out to write her no.1 best-selling cookbook.

If you're worried that such a synopsis should leave you hungry for an actual plotline, fear not. Whilst there are few obstacles facing either character, save a few feminist and marital issues, the film keeps us glued thanks to some stunning performances and mouth-watering visuals.

Streep is unquestionably the special spice that gives the film its distinctive kick. Undaunted by the task of playing one of the most celebrated and unique women of the past century, Streep pushes ahead with enormous gusto, producing a big, bolshie performance. Portraying a woman 20 years younger than her and eight inches taller (how?), Streep digs deep into her character in a way that goes far beyond impersonation.

Despite their smaller roles, the male performances are equally as impressive and Stanley Tucci comes close to stealing Streep's spotlight. As Child’s husband, Tucci injects Paul’s otherwise bland and cardboard character with life and a lot of love. Messina manages the art of supportive husband, dealing with the difficult and often whiney Julie.

Whether you're a Streep devotee or just plain foodie fan, there's no doubt Julie and Julia will whet your appetite, men and women alike. With news that Streep Tease, a new all-male LA show comprised of nothing but Meryl monologues, is soon to open, the Queen of Camp is sure to reign for some time yet. Bon Appetit!

Charlotte Balnave

For those who still haven’t picked up the book or watched the trailer, the story centres on Henry (Eric Bana), a Chicago librarian who has a genetic disorder that makes him time travel involuntarily. He meets Clare (Rachel McAdams) at various times in her life, and the two must fight to maintain their intense relationship in the face of his condition.

The strength of the film comes down to the verity of the performances. This is real love - the stuff of Darcy and Elizabeth, Rhett and Scarlett, Kate and Leo – and there is not a moment when you don’t believe absolutely in Henry and Clare’s passion and desperate need to be together. Effective turns also come from Henry’s father (Arliss Howard), his best friend Gomez (Ron Livingston) and the young Clare (Brooklynn Proulx), but they are never more than bystanders to McAdams and Bana’s consuming on-screen chemistry.

Not without its flaws, there is the occasional moment of unrealistic sentimentality, such as when Henry travels back in time and meets his mother, who seems totally unperturbed by a male stranger acting oddly and overly friendly on the train. But considering the complexity of the raw material and the scope for an adaptation of this magnitude to go very, very wrong, Time Traveler’s deserves a hefty pat on the back, if only just for not royally screwing up a much-loved novel. It’s also easy - too easy - to pick apart and criticise any small discrepancies in the plot that come about because of the complications of time travel. The cause and effect conundrum could have you staring at a blank wall for days trying to make sense of it all… but why bother? Better just to take the flight of fancy and enjoy the film for what it is.

I’m not a big crier, in fact in all my movie-watching days there have only ever been two films that have brought on the waterworks, but The Time Traveler’s Wife had me welling up and trying to conceal my sniffles from a roomful of journos for a good 20 minutes as the film came to its close. So, if it can get the girl who has been affectionately(?) referred to as ‘dead inside’ on more than one occasion to shed a tear or two, it must be doing something right.

Georgine Waller

If the New York City Police Force’s reputation was made in the wake of 9/11, then for some ungodly reason Tony Scott is trying to tear it down. With The Taking Of Pelham 123, Scott has created a smear campaign detailing the painful ineptitude of the Yankee bobbies, from mistaken firing to bungled police escorts, that doesn’t let up for a whole two hours. But I digress; aside from the infuriatingly unexplained Police bashing, there are other, more important things to note about the director’s latest venture with long time collaborator Denzel Washington and John Travolta. Just don’t get me started on the plot holes…

Set in NYC, the movie follows Walter Garber (Washington), a New York City subway dispatcher whose ordinary day at work is thrown into chaos when an armed gang of four hijacks a subway train. The guy in charge is Ryder (Travolta), who threatens to kill his hostages one by one unless he is paid a large sum of ransom money within the hour. So far so familiar, but although I wouldn’t advise holding your breath waiting for any major plot twists to shake things up, the pic does derail from the usual fast-paced action to a more sedate slow-burner method, providing at least a little something to distinguish itself from the crowd. With hardly anyone walking more than a few paces until at least three quarters of the way through the film, it’s fair to say that the tension comes from a static, more cerebral place than from balls out physicality.

The other perk to the film is the performances. Scott’s lap dog Washington is as dependable as ever and brings the right amount of intelligence and aggression to the table, although being one of his less juicy roles I’d still choose to watch him in American Gangster or Man On Fire over this. It is also a relief to see that Travolta keeps his ham in check and is controlled and convincing with just the occasional Castor Troy-esque outburst. The two clearly have chemistry and can banter off each other like the best of them, showing off the smart dialogue to its full effect.

Supporting actors round out the solid cast: there’s the legendary James Gandolfini playing a begrudging Mayor at the end of his term, Transformers 2’s Ramon Rodriguez as a glorified cheerleader pepping Garber from the sidelines of the Transit Rail Control Center (surely one of the least sexy settings for a Hollywood flick ever?), as well as a solid turn from John Turturro as the hostage negotiator, who makes the most of the small role assigned to him.

Never superb but predominantly inoffensive, this pic isn’t the smartest action on the block, but it’s slick enough to keep you entertained and short enough to keep you interested.

Georgine Waller