William Thomas

Against the odds of a feeble script and uninspired direction the duo do, in fact, grow on you, and there are a smattering of silly laughs, most notably a sequence involving a large road kill stashed in the back seat.

What could have been an effective excoriation of US drug policy and a proper look at the violence inherent in the trade is wasted on a simplistic thriller that offers very little, especially given who is behind the camera. Sorry if that harshes anyone's buzz.

Reynolds was coasting at this point of his career, with zero risk-taking it ends up as a soulless, below-average movie.

A self-consciously grubby and silly slasher that'll be lapped up by gorehounds, but which really belongs on the rental shelves.

High hopes of magic from the Gondry-Rogen pairing are dashed. Some neat touches aside, this isn't so much eternal sunshine, more superbad.

Always a spoof rather than a homage, this comedy soon realises there's only so many laughs you can plunder from the heavy premise and the repetitive carriages.

Possibly not the worst animated feature the House Of Mouse has produced, but certainly stumbling around the darker recesses of the Disney vault.

Even while laughing at lines like, “Black people don’t do bungee-jumping, it’s too much like lynching,” you’re still left thinking that the funniest man in the building was not actually in front of the camera.

A totally unneeded sequel which does nothing whatsoever for the legacy of the original tale.

You should feel sorry for the memory of Julia - whose swansong this is - but actually it's Van Damme who commands sympathy.

The world can only hope The Swamp Thing's abode is now bulldozered and turned into a shopping mall.

Dire, B-movie cheese throughout, this gives no clue that Pitt - or anyone else involved - could ever have a career in Hollywood.

An obsequious, ring-kissing portrait of the current US administration, dressed in gauche, glossy reality-TV clothing. And yet somehow still better than Rush Hour 3.

Predictably awful fourth installment.

About as funny as contracting cancer.

The first film to be based on a line of toys, this might not be the last, but it'd take something awful to replace it as the worst.

An unredeemable failure on all levels, other than living up to our expectations.

Dodgy on every level.

However you dress it up, laughs where there should be frights is patently piss poor.

Pretty terrible sequel in every respect.

Like, so lame.

Energetically humourless, with travelogue and circus footage inserted between the dog-piss and big boob jokes.