Confirming that the only person in the world capable of loving Jaden Smith is his own father, After Earth makes a mockery of the sci-fi genre. Predictable, boring and occasionally unintelligible, M. Night Shyamalan has once again made a rather large misstep in his career. Whatever talent he may have once had cannot be seen in After Earth, not in the story, the photography or the direction. In a year replete with big-budget sci-fi like Oblivion, Elysium and Star Trek Into Darkness, After Earth has the Best For Film Official Guarantee to be the worst of them all.

Wait, what’s that, the kids are off AGAIN? If you’re in the market for two hours of relative peace and quiet, and you’ve either never seen FernGully before or love it so much you’d happily sit through it again, then boy – then boy does Blue Sky Studios have the film for you!

People have jams nowadays don’t they? Like, they don’t have interests or hobbies, they have jams? Don’t lie to me, I know it’s true, I’ve seen it on the Twitter – “so and so is my jam”, “this song is totally my JAM!” – yeah? Well, in the spirit of seeming up to date, Werner Herzog is most definitely my jam.

Bringing Up Bobby, Famke Janssen’s directorial debut, is an excellent example of why some actors should stay in front of the camera. Although it’s reasonably well put-together, any attempt at drama, or comedy, or pathos comes off as aggressively soporific. You’ll spend less time watching the film than wondering if Milla Jovovich’s character is a paedophile. Flat, boring and stupid, no one need subject themselves to this rancid cinematic cheese.