Ten years after the end of the Kaiju War, Jake Pentecost (John Boyega), son of Stacker, makes a living selling stolen tech. But an arrest lands him back in the Jaegar pilot programme under Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi), with old mucker Nate Lambert (Scott Eastwood) and scrappy scavenger Amara (Cailee Spaeny), just in time to meet a new threat.

★★★★★

 Here’s the thing about movies where giant robots beat up on giant monsters: they should be fun. Guillermo del Toro’s 2013 Pacific Rim only sometimes delivered that, with its quasi-realistic focus on traumatised survivors teaming up to meet a monster invasion. Uprising, however, packs in more gonzo invention and giddy destruction than its progenitor and the director, Daredevil’s Steven S. DeKnight, manages to twist the franchise in some surprising new directions.

John Boyega, employing every ounce of his considerable charisma, is the roguish Jake Pentecost, son of Idris Elba’s heroic apocalypse-canceller Stacker. But Jake turned away from the Jaeger programme, and now skulks about scavenging tech to fund an extravagant snack-food habit. A chance encounter with a teen Jaeger builder, Amara Namani (Cailee Spaeny), and her Bumblebee-like creation Scrapper lands Jake in jail — until he agrees to go back and train a new generation of recruits.

  The action delivers in ways that the Transformers franchise hasn’t managed in a decade.

 It’s all an excuse to give Jake some outsider cool in the pilot programme, because soon everyone is preoccupied by bigger issues. Tech tycoon Shao Liwen (Jing Tian) is pushing a rival drone project to replace the Jaeger pilots, with Charlie Day’s Newt Geiszler now at her side. When a rogue Jaeger appears in Sydney just as Mako Mori (Rinko Kikuchi) is about to vote on the drones, it becomes apparent that kaiju are not the only threat.

There are probably allegories here about the proliferation of nuclear weapons post-World War II, as well as the current rise of robot weaponry, but this is not a film meant to provoke deep thoughts: it’s a film where giant robots raze cities. The property damage is mind-boggling, and the action delivers in ways that the Transformers franchise hasn’t managed in a decade.

This rushes through its character beats, especially Adria Arjona’s embarrassingly underserved Jules and the identikit trainees, none of whom stick in the mind like del Toro’s misfits, but then, there’s a lot to do. It’s not a spoiler to say that the kaiju eventually reappear (though not as you might think) and the destruction ramps up to even more devastating heights. The result is frequently ludicrous, but it is bigger and cleverer than we had any right to expect.

 These Mark 6 Jaegers with their electric whips, “gravity slings” and plasma swords deliver all the giant robot thrills you could wish. Thanks to Boyega and Spaeny, you might even care about the human characters, too

Black Panther' — 3.5 stars

MPAA rating: PG-13 (for prolonged sequences of action violence, and a brief rude gesture)

Running time: 2:20

Even if it had nothing else going for it, Black Panther would still be the best-looking Marvel movie yet. Supersaturated with vivid afro-futurism and as bold and riotous as a rack of dashiki print shirts, it looks like a particularly excitable Sun Ra album cover. Fortunately, the film doesn’t trade on looks alone.

The score, by Ludwig Göransson and Kendrick Lamar, combines primal beats with the growling purr of a pack of big cats. Cannily, and unusually for a Marvel picture, Black Panther unfolds in a pretty much self-contained world. There are no smirking cameos from the likes of Tony Stark. The closest we get to acknowledging the Marvel universe is a reference to the death of the father of T’Challa (Chadwick Boseman), an event that happened in 2016’s Captain America: Civil War, and a bad guy who first popped up in Avengers: Age of Ultron.

T’Challa inherits the throne of Wakanda, the secretive techtropolis that has concealed itself from the rest of the world. And he assumes the mantle of Black Panther, complete with an impenetrable battle suit engineered by his genius kid sister, Shuri (Letitia Wright, who gets to play with most of the best lines as well as all the cool kit). Supporting T’Challa is Wakanda’s top warrior, Okoye (Danai Gurira), lethal with a spear but who also, in one gif-friendly shot, does an impressive amount of damage by hurling her wig.

Peril comes from Andy Serkis, great fun as Ulysses Klaue, a piratical South African with a grin that looks as though he chews lightbulbs for breakfast. Plus there is a challenger to the throne: Erik Killmonger (Michael B Jordan) is the cousin that T’Challa never knew he had. And this is a weak point – Erik’s backstory doesn’t seem to fully explain the frothing hate machine he becomes. The film also falls into the traditional Marvel third-act trap: for all the attack rhinos and the tribal factionalism, it’s still just a big, noisy CGI battle climax

Punctuated by 11 memorable songs composed by Oscar- and Tony-winning duo Benj Pasek and Justin Paul, who composed the songs for "La La Land," as well as the current Broadway hit Dear Evan Hansen. The film is made for the whole family to enjoy, and so it leaves out many of the darker elements (explored in the 1980 Broadway musical Barnum, music by Cy Coleman). This is a difficult tightrope to walk, but credit is due to Gracey, a perfectly cast Hugh Jackman, and the entire cast, who play this story in the spirit in which it was written (by Jenny Bicks and Bill Condon). "The Greatest Showman" positions itself as a story celebrating diversity, and the importance of embracing all kinds.

There are those who will see this as a rose-colored-glasses view of what was a pretty exploitive situation. But in a 19th and early 20th century context, the circus and then vaudeville were welcoming places where those who had skills or who were rejected by society could find a home. Barnum put "misfit toys" onstage, saying, in essence, "Aren't they amazing?” (all while filling his pockets. For more thoughts on P.T. Barnum's barely acknowledged influence on American culture author Trav S.D.'s 2005 lecture at the Barnum Museum in Bridgeport, CT is a good place to start.) Cary Grant, who had a harsh poor childhood, got his start as a tumbler in a vaudeville troupe. Years later he described his revelatory first visit to the Bristol Hippodrome:

"The Saturday matinee was in full swing when I arrived backstage; and there I suddenly found my inarticulate self in a dazzling land of smiling, jostling people wearing and not wearing all sorts of costumes and doing all sorts of clever things. And that’s when I knew! What other life could there be but that of an actor? They happily traveled and toured. They were classless, cheerful, and carefree. They gaily laughed, lived, and loved."

That's what "The Greatest Showman" captures.

The film starts with the title song "The Greatest Show," a show-stopper with repetitive thumping percussion (reminiscent of Queen's ferocious "We Will Rock You"). Hugh Jackman—in red impresario's coat and top hat—takes us on a dazzling tour, with cinematographer Seamus McGarvey keeping the movements fluid, and all the actions connected, plunging you into the center ring. The whole number comes from the brazen heart of showbiz: Make it interesting! Give 'em something to look at! Make sure you reach the cheap seats! Barnum croons seductively, "Just surrender cuz you feel the feeling taking over!" I obeyed without reservation.

During the next number, "A Million Dreams" the young and poor Barnum (Ellis Rubin) befriends a well-bred little girl named Charity Hallett (Skylar Dunn), and they dream of creating their own destiny. This is the first time in "The Greatest Showman" where a character stops speaking and starts to sing instead; the segue is gracefully handled, setting up the artificial device early on. If you don't set up that trope with confidence, it makes it look like you're embarrassed to be doing a musical. By the end of the song, the little boy has become Hugh Jackman and the little girl has become Michelle Williams, leaping and twirling across the rooftop of their tenement, bed sheets on the line billowing to the beat.

One of the deep pleasures of "The Greatest Showman" is you don't have to grade the singing and dancing on a curve, as was necessary with "La La Land" (or, further back, to "Chicago," where quick cuts hid Richard Gere's lack of tap dancing skills.) Hugh Jackman, with his powerful high baritone, got his start in musicals, performing in productions in Melbourne, and then in a hugely acclaimed revival of Oklahoma! in the West End. He won a Tony Award for his performance as Peter Allen in The Boy From Oz and has hosted the Tony Awards three times. He is an old-fashioned triple-threat. Film fans may know him mainly as "Wolverine," and there's nothing wrong with that, but once upon a time a song-and-dance man like Hugh Jackman's could sing and dance his way through mainstream Hollywood. He's unleashed here.

So, too, is Zac Efron, who also got his start because he could sing and dance in the phenom that was "High School Musical." His career has morphed into something rather unique, with titles like "Hairspray," "Neighbors," and a hilarious small part in this year's "The Disaster Artist." He has something that cannot be manufactured, although many try, and that is old-school movie star charisma. Add to that a beautiful voice, plus dancing skills, plus a surprisingly ironic sense of humor, and he's got the full package. It's thrilling to see him in a big splashy musical. He's very much at home.

Michelle Williams, with anachronistically long blonde hair, has a strong clear voice, and there's something exhilarating about how she tosses herself into thin air, knowing Jackman will catch her. In what could be a thankless "wet blanket wife" part, Williams adds a spunky sense of adventure, showing us the kind of woman who would say "No" to a ladylike society-wife life, and fling herself into the unknown with her man.

The timing of this release is interesting. On May 21, 2017, Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus folded up its tent for good, after 146 years of uninterrupted operation. Rocked by controversy due to criticisms of exploitation and animal abuse, they retired the elephant acts in 2016, but it was too late. Barnum was dogged by criticisms from the beginning. Many of the "acts" were fakes. Barnum actually didn't say the quote most associated with him ("There's a sucker born every minute") but he might as well have said it and his critics despised him for the assumption about popular entertainment and the regular folk who enjoy it. But in the film, Barnum, with a dazzling smile, explains to a skeptical journalist, "People come to my show for the pleasure of being hoodwinked."

I was hoodwinked by "The Greatest Showman." And it was indeed a pleasure. Ringling Brothers may have closed up shop, but Barnum lives on