On paper, fine; on celluloid, a Rocky Horror Show of nightmarish proportions.

By the time the deathwish duo embark into mountainous terrain, you'll want to hand them a copy of Thelma & Louise's road map —with clearly marked directions to the cliff.

Here both Greenaway's strengths and weaknesses are on show as he toys with the viewers' capacity to ingest blurring metaphors and convoluted content.

Largely, real emotions are substituted here by people swearing and trying to kill each other, which adds up to a shamefully dehumanising piece of work.

Waters' attempt to reach a bigger market sees him lose his own unique identity.

Proof that when you aim for the stars, sometimes you find a black hole. Hopefully just an anomaly for the usually wonderful Gervais.

Boring and Silly, Ronin is a better example of Frankenheimer's direction.

Brilliantly terrible or terribly terrible depending on your viewpoint.

Non-Stop is weak sauce, a cheapie snoozer that not even heavyweights like Neeson and Moore can save.

Ultimately, BMX bikes and Day-Glo elbow pads just ain't cool. One best left to fond memory.

Like a parody of a Jason Statham film, without any of the joy that might imply. This Working Man just doesn’t work.

Dump thriller which trivialises the subject matter.

As bad as cinema gets.

Globe-trotting but not adventurous, action-packed but not remotely exciting, utterly overstuffed and completely paper-thin. Nuke it from orbit.

Very, very low-brow.

In this stereotypically-fuelled moralistic gangster movie, the plot is poor, the acting worse and standing at three hours, proves about three hours too long.

Witless, charmless, teen twaddle. Let's take all prints off the film, and bury them. Don't bother marking the spot with an X.

Dodgy on every level.

Reeves and Ryder work very hard to make Destination Wedding work, but deeply unlikeable characters and a clunky script means there’s no escaping the fact it’s a disappointing misfire.

What sounded like a bad idea before it started shooting, proves such an atrocity that it makes her last effort, The Beverly Hillbillies, look almost Oscar-worthy.

Better avoided unless you're doing a study on vaguely titillating rubbish 80s animation.

It's bad enough to ban on purely artistic grounds.

The kind of film the tabloids will call to ban. Don't take that as a reason to see it.

The first film had its moment of charm, and the cast were good enough to overcome the downright stupidity of the storyline, but this is simply a dreary bore that takes advantage of a terrific cast by moving them about on the screen without giving them anything to do. One long yawn.

It may occasionally shock a laugh from you, but between those moments your face will be a rictus of horror.

A needless threequel. Note to director: avoid 'rise of the' titles.

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

This hastily-produced sequel ignores the dreamstalking premise that had made A Nightmare on Elm Street successful and reverts to the overfamiliar possession story.