Bloody and violent from the outset – hence the 18 certificate – Zack Snyder’s stylish adaptation of Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons’ celebrated graphic novel Watchmen pulls no punches as its transports us back in time to a very different vision of the mid-1980s.

Relations between America and the Soviet Union are strained and there is a clear and present danger of nuclear attack.

Nixon is clinging on to power in the White House and costumed heroes are part of the fabric of a society in the thrall of fear and paranoia, reflected in the symbolic Doomsday Clock which edges closer to midnight as tensions increase.

In this politically charged climate, a deadly conspiracy involving the masked crime-fighters unfolds, which could have far-reaching implications for mankind. Many years after the so-called Minutemen – Captain Metropolis, The Comedian, Dollar Bill, Hooded Justice, Mothman, Nite Owl, The Silhouette and Silk Spectre – watched over humanity, a new team of heroes has taken up the mantle.

The Comedian (Dean Morgan) is the last of the old guard still standing and he is joined by Dr Manhattan (Billy Crudup), Nite Owl II (Patrick Wilson), Ozymandias (Matthew Goode), Rorschach (Earle Haley) and Silk Spectre II (Malin Akerman).

When one of the team is murdered in the film’s bone-crunching opening sequence, the remaining members unravel layers of mystery shrouding the crime.

In the process, Silk Spectre II clashes with her lover, Dr Manhattan, the only member of the team blessed with actual superpowers – he can glimpse the future – after an accident in a nuclear lab.

The argument drives her into the arms of Nite Owl II and an exceedingly raunchy sex scene – shot to a soundtrack of Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah.

Watchmen is clearly a labour of love for Snyder, the writer-director of 300, working from a screenplay by David Hayter and Alex Tse, and he adheres closely to the source text. Pacing is incredibly slow, even in the action sequences, which rely heavily on slow motion. It is little wonder the film runs to an buttock-numbing 162 minutes.

There is no doubt that Snyder can orchestrate mayhem on a grand scale. The break-in to a prison is masterfully executed and myriad computer generated effects are seamlessly melded with live action.

But the final half hour, dense with philosophical navel-gazing, is especially heavy going.

Of all the love stories that have defined the British monarchy, none tugs the heartstrings quite like Victoria and Prince Albert. Brought together in the eye of a political storm in 19th-century Britain, the queen and her first cousin weathered public disapproval to affect lasting change including the abolition of slavery and educational reform. When Albert succumbed to typhoid at the age of 42, the queen was plunged into mourning, wearing black for the rest of her life.

The Young Victoria traces the romance from the initial sparks of attraction to marriage, revealing the private frustrations of the young queen as she attempts to walk a minefield of political intrigue and stringent social etiquette.

“Some palaces are not at all what you think. Some palaces can be prisons,” rues Victoria (Emily Blunt) in voiceover as she steps into the glare of the 1838 coronation. Jean-Marc Vallee’s film then rewinds one year with the princess at the mercy of her mother, the Duchess of Kent (Miranda Richardson), and scheming advisor Sir John Conroy (Mark Strong), who won’t allow her to descend a flight of stairs unaccompanied for fear she might tumble.

Ambitious Whig Prime Minister, Lord Melbourne (Paul Bettany), cleverly persuades naive Victoria to install him as private secretary in order to control affairs at Buckingham Palace.

He exploits the position to fill the royal quarters with allies such as the Duchess of Sutherland (Rachael Stirling), and keep her at arm’s length from rival, Sir Robert Peel (Michael Maloney).

Everyone, it seems, wants to manipulate Victoria for their own ends, all apart from Albert (Rupert Friend), who defies protocol to assist the princess in outwitting the schemers.

The Young Victoria has a similar look and feel to The Duchess, boasting gorgeous sets and costumes and a haunting orchestral score courtesy of Ilan Eshkeri.

Produced by Sarah Ferguson – look out for a fleeting appearance by Princess Beatrice in the opening minutes – the film adheres closely to fact, albeit with an attractive cast being somewhat easier on the eye than some of their historical counterparts.