Fast Five was a good example of how applying The Rock to a tired series could bring it back to life. G.I. Joe, by opting for self-seriousness instead of knowing daftness, has squandered its secret weapon.

Enormous plot holes and a script that’s fatally light on character mean there’s few selling points beyond Jennifer Garner's corset...

Though occasionally inventive and affecting, A Big Bold Beautiful Journey is a tonal mess. Romantic and other emotional struggles depicted may ring true, but that and strong lead performances can’t save the uneven whole.

Oddly enough, the film scores with Bowie's spellbinding take on the ageing Warhol. Without this comedic but beautiful performance and an offbeat soundtrack, this is little more than wet paint.

An interesting premise fails to ignite amid an underwritten central romance and some clichéd plotting. An often eye-rolling ride.

A strange story that's no less disturbing for its unbalanced telling.

Never quite as witty as it should be.

Until Dawn wants to carve its own path, separate from its source material. Ironically, in trying to be different, it ends up feeling more clichéd than ever.

As with all great spoofers, you can feel the love the director has for Hitchcock, the thoroughness of his jokes vouches for that and the entire plot is loosely based on Spellbound. Perhaps, he was too devoted, the film lacks daring, it’s soft, Hitch would have sneered at such weakness.

A general disappointment, but then with David Bowie and Patsy Kensit what did you expect.

They make a fun duo, but none of the constituent genres work in this overbearing action-rom-com.

This has the raw material for a decent rom-com, but the aimless structure and ambiguous tone undermine both humour and romance.

Gurinder Chadha’s Dickens do-over is a typically original perspective on a canonical classic, if let down by its stretched production values and unlikable songs. But it aims only to be a crowd-pleaser, and may yet become one. 

Solid production values lend a polish to the spooks and there are strong performances all round, especially from the ever-excellent Rebecca Hall, but there's little here to add to the well-worn haunted house genre.

Watching Blake Lively and Anna Kendrick trade barbs is entertaining, but Feig’s first thriller suffers from an unconvincing plot and inconsistent tone.

Mark Wahlberg is convincing and committed as a foul-mouthed Father, but this is ultimately just religious propaganda — preaching exclusively to the converted.

It’s glossy and at times goofily funny, mostly thanks to Johnson’s subtle comic skills, but the novelty of this messy relationship is really beginning to wear off.

The film veers from quasi-real to cartoonily silly and scenes either drag or whirl by too fast.

It’s sufficiently well done to qualify as cute, quite the thing for a girlie outing with grub after, but it’s utterly phoney baloney.

Lame and clunky in many places which doesn't manage to save this bizarre premise from dull absurdity.

It's a war story with all the action removed and moral conflict inserted in its stead. That you're no longer allowed to boo is bad enough, but asking anyone to root for this bunch of drips is adding insult to injury.

Funny in places but not Allen's best writing...and its difficult to get beyond the conceit.

Only a thrilling throwback synth score from John Carpenter keeps this inferior, modernised take on Firestarter off the lower end of a list of Stephen King adaptations.

Better than the silly second instalment and boasting an effectively creepy empty world setting, it’s nevertheless scuppered by a lack of coherence.

The best thing about this is Tom Savini's superb, uncensored special effects.

For all the enthralling visuals and action, the film feels garbled.

Not the reunion between Lau and Leung that fans might have been craving, nor the decadent deep-dive into Hong Kong’s boom-time that the film could and should have been.

Far too light and reliant on the Hollywood romantic clich_ to explore its topic intelligently, and - appropriately enough - leaves Kline looking like a Muppet.

As a fairy-tale romantic rendering of Ireland, Irish Wish is almost offensively bad; as another rung on the ladder for Lindsay Lohan romcom supremacy, it is almost, somehow, beyond reproach.

Fleetingly enjoyable in very short bursts, this is the most cynically constructed event movie in recent memory, its heart purely in its wallet. A fantastic bore.

Regarding Henry is ultimately just about bearable thanks to Ford's sheer presence and the occasional reminder, the first 20 minutes in particular, of what might and should have been.

An exposition-heavy opening gives way to a modestly effective Australian mash-up of sci-fi/horror hybrids.

Competent, but so utterly bereft of any memorable moments that it becomes a bit of a bore. Perhaps it's time for a reboot – guy wrapped in bandages, shuffling around a pyramid, scaring people. You never know, it might just work.

Nicholas Hoult does his best to bring Niven's weapons-grade scumbag to life, in a film hobbled by amateurish acting and absence of production value.

The message is just as clear with Simpsonian antics -- if it ain't broke, don't make a movie…

The most worrying thing about She's All That is its message. The "ugly duckling" (specs, dungarees, art-lover) must conform (she gets a makeover and the boys notice her "bobos" for the first time) to fit in.

Despite some cool action sequences and interesting aliens, the first Rebel Moon instalment is a disjointed ride through an under-realised universe.

A bang-on soundtrack will make the hairs on ex-ravers' necks stand up. The plot will have the opposite effect.

Godzilla Vs. Kong mostly delivers on its promise of a big monster fighting another big monster. It just depends whether you’re willing to sit through the toe-curlingly bad set-up that surrounds it.

French Exit boasts an assured cast but drab direction and lazy writing ensure the characters are never as eccentric, cutting or interesting as the film’s tinkling score would have you believe.

By stifling Hart’s seasoned comedy-fuelled charisma, this overly stylised crime caper is a turbulent ride. Stay for Mbatha-Raw’s righteous action skills, which should propel her to bigger and bolder things.

A handsome epistolary affair gives way to a more formulaic matchmaking story, in an alluring romance that loses its shine. Maybe some things are better left in the past.

Despite the formidable talents of Timothy Spall and Vanessa Redgrave, Mrs Lowry & Son doesn’t really get under the skin of the artist or the man, resulting in a film as dreary as Pendlebury’s colourless skies.

Too long, arduous, lecturey and patience-testing for even the all-new Matthew McConaughey to rescue. Director Ross is apparently so swamped by a sense of historical righteousness he hasn’t noticed he’s smothered a decent story.

A tense and nasty thriller, Mile 22 is a frustrating experience that makes you wonder if Peter Berg should stick to depicting real-life tragedies instead.

It’s relentless and exhausting for adults, but kids and die-hard SpongeBob fans may find something to love here as the consistently cheery fry cook once again out-dimwits a dastardly foe.

Escape Room is like The Crystal Maze with more death. It’s fun at the start then loses its way, but it’ll do until ‘Flossing: The Movie’ comes along.

Boasting a powerhouse cast, The Last Full Measure has the best of intentions, to celebrate servicemen without condoning war, but winds up with little else.

Dull.

Inferior teen drugs-drama, lacking depth and a point.

A largely dour romantic drama, hampered by thrusting non-actors into challenging lead roles.

Midnight is a mildly engaging hotchpotch of disparate ideas - courtroom drama, small town expos and witchcraft-infected magicking - but a far cry from Eastwood's best.

But O'Keeffe, as Tarzan, has the best part: he never says a word, unless you count 'Aaa-awaa-awaa'. His visual presence is striking enough: Bjorn Borg's head bolted on to Arnold Schwarzenegger's body.

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

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

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.

Sometimes this kind of comedy just goes too far into rubbishness to make it back.

Dump thriller which trivialises the subject matter.

The Native American people have suffered any number of indignities over the years. But they haven't, until now, suffered Adam Sandler.

Pointless re-make. One of (the once great) Carpenter's worst.

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

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.

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

Indeed, the only bright spot in the film is Amanda Plummer — the wacky object of Robin Williams' desire in The Fisher King — with a brief but memorable cameo here as a futuristic nun who swears like a trooper, carries around a rifle and thinks turning the other cheek is kicking a guy in the balls.

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.

Fails on both an emotional and comedic level.

Conceptually, this flop has potential for the satirisation of military responses to an alien threat, but it ís wasted in a loose script whose weaknesses are all the more glaring for the film's inability to exploit the power of absurdity.

You'd think it'd be hilarious. Think again.

It plays a lot like a Porky's holiday comedy for the first half, and then the seagoing killer fish learn to fly and big rubber toothy things terrorise the survivors.

One of the problems is that King usually writes about cliche subjects so well that you don’t notice the hackneyed aspects of his books, and so when all the character detail, precise backgrounding and elaborate plot setting-up mechanisms are pruned away, all you get is a dumb TV movie with characters doing insanely stupid things to prolong the agony.

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

Bottom-rung dreck.

A clunky, lumbering sequel that, like its masked protagonist, has no redeeming features.

The one saving grace is Lloyd, who gives a terrific and lively portrayal despite some horribly sentimental lines. He is the movie's guiding star, a lone bright light in a string of dud bulbs. Otherwise, beware.

An early but strong contender for worst movie of 2008.

Despite the always-good Harvey Keitel, this is just embarassing sci-fi nonsense.

A twist-burdened techno-thriller that would be by-the-numbers if it could count.

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

Toying with themes too serious for it and stars too big for it, this fantasy is incalculably less than the sum of it's parts.

A horrific waste of time, money and oxygen.

Slap a restriction order on yourself and don't come within ten paces of this hideous concoction.

Former teen idol and sometime rap artist Vanilla Ice made his movie debut in this lightweight tale of young love that serves best as a cinematic interpretation of the photo romances much revered by pre-pubescent pinup magazines.

Depressing and trivial.

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.

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

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

There are atmospheric shots of billowing thunder clouds, priests on cliff tops, bloody stigmata and moody eclipses, but it all amounts to nothing.

However, it is probably the screenplay that is most at fault, and while "Demolition Man" director Brambilla again makes things look okay, his hands are tied with flat dialogue, zero comedy and not much caper, either.

A waste of space.

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.

Director Blanks delivers a wholly pedestrian feature debut in this by-numbers teen horror flick that could give you the impression Scream never really happened.

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.

Self-serving, storyless tripe.

Godsend is based on an intriguing premise. Sadly, it's mangled into an Omen-lite disaster area, thanks to a script torn between making a moral point about cloning and cheap shocks.

The Hustle buckles under the overbearing weight of its own vulgarity. Avoid the dirty rubble by all means. An embarrassment to the heist genre, an insult to all existing comedies, a disgrace to feminism.

A Twilight pastiche with all the wit you'd expect from the makers of "Scary Movie" and "Meet The Spartans."

Brilliantly terrible or terribly terrible depending on your viewpoint.

Poor script, poor direction and poor performances mean a dismal 70's disaster movie is the result.