But for all her slinky, undead-chic looks, Beckinsale can't carry the film on curves alone and there's not much else here worthy of attention. Evolution's action sequences are as horribly bungled as its plot, resulting in a string of repetitive confrontations that feel toothless even by the last movie’s standards.

In the title role, newcomer Smith shows vestiges of an intuitive and moving performance, but he's swamped by a veritable tsunami of sentimentality and hamstrung by cute dialogue.

Designed to showcase Culkin at the expense of everyone else, this will have trouble appealing to the adult contingent of the family audience it's aimed at.

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

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

Whoever demanded a third installment of Lawrence's mirthless mash-up of weak gags and cross-dressing horrors should be imprisoned and forced to watch it on repeat until they repent. Avoid.

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

Dodgy on every level.

The Beverly Hillbillies turns into possibly one of the worst transitions ever. With a cast full of nobodies (who are nobodies for good reason, except Eleniak and that's for her breasts) and an uninspired script the whole film is a considerably patchy affair.

As bad as cinema gets.

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

Worse than Scary Movies 1 through 3… And they were terrible.

A pallid shopfloor fairytale with absolutely no magic to speak of, other than the spark in Kim Cattrall's eyes.

Really, really bad. Production company-destroyingly bad.

Nielsen's performance is truly dreadful, yet somehow it seems strangely fitting for the movie, which is unlikely even to engage the younger audience for whom it is so obviously intended. When even the outtakes you see over the end titles don't raise a single titter, you know you're in trouble.

If ever there was lawful impediment for a marriage to not go ahead, it's this mess of a movie.

A damp squib of a movie.

On paper, this could have been excellent; as it stands, it’s painful and futile for all involved. Much like the Afghan conflict itself.

A disjointed mish-M.A.S.H. of cliched comedy and misplaced observational wit.

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

More terrible and tacky than one could have imagined, it will soon be forgotten and consigned to the True Movies channel to play alongside television movies about Karen Carpenter, Jayne Mansfield and Jackie Kennedy.

No doubt its small fans are thrilled, but even young kids will have to be pretty undemanding to enjoy this mess.

Could have been T2 with seraphs, or Assault On Precinct 13 crossed with Revelations. Instead, it’s a lazy genre bore. Doesn’t bode well for Priest, the next Stewart/Bettany film in the pipeline.

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

A forgettable fantasy cheapie whose gruff earnestness feels hollow thanks to the unforgiveable thinness of its story and the weakness of its grip on its source material. Oh, and a note to whoever came up with the title: neither Arthur nor Merlin are knights of Camelot.

Irresponsible, exploitative trash.

Whatever it is they do so successfully on TV clearly fails to translate to the big screen, particularly when saddled with a script that does no one any favours. Sinbad, as an Afro-heavy 70s throwback, does his best to elevate things, but this stodge is beyond help.

It would miss the point to complain that the plot is nonsensical drivel peopled by paper-thin characters and a paucity of ideas.