Directed by Nick Hamm and written by Colin Bateman, The Journey has much in common with Stephen Frears's The Deal (2003), in which Peter Morgan speculated on what Tony Blair (Michael Sheen) and Gordon Brown (David Morrissey) might have said to each other while plotting the future of the Labour Party in the Granita restaurant in Islington in 1994. But, while that encounter actually took place (several sources suggest that Eileen Paisley was at her husband's side during the talks) and the events that precipitated it leant themselves to a little satirical wit, the same can't be said for the Troubles in Northern Ireland. Consequently, this fictionalised bromantic account of what transpired in the hours before the signing of the St Andrews Agreement in October 2006 feels as crassly ill-judged as Richard Tanne's Southside With You (2016), which chronicled Barack and Michelle Obama's first date.

As the rain pours down and closes Glasgow Airport, Dr Ian Paisley (Timothy Spall) is concerned that he will not be able to keep a promise and fly home to Belfast to celebrate his 50th wedding anniversary. Determined to keep the leader of the Democratic Unionist Party sweet, British Prime Minister Tony Blair (Toby Stephens) and Irish Taoiseach Bertie Ahern (Mark Lambert) make arrangements for him to fly out of Edinburgh. Eager to avoid offending the Sinn Féin delegation led by Gerry Adams (Ian Beattie) and Martin McGuinness (Colm Meaney), Blair and Ahern keep them abreast of their plans. However, as protocol dictates that Northern Irish politicians travel with their opposite numbers to reduce the risk of a terrorist attack, McGuinness insists on taking the plane. Even though he has never personally met a man who considers him the devil incarnate, McGuinness is convinced there might never be a better time to get the 81 year-old Free Presbyterian minister alone so they can discuss the situation like civilised men.

Adams and adviser Rory McBride (Ian McElhinney) are far from convinced, with the latter urging McGuinness to honour his IRA past by not claiming that a deal that makes Republicans subservient in a power-sharing scheme is a victory. But Ian Paisley, Jr. (Barry Ward) is no more open to the idea and his father claims the arrangement is no skin off his nose, as MI5 boss Harry Patterson (John Hurt) and aide Kate Elgar (Catherine McCormack) watch Scottish chauffeur Jack (Freddie Highmore) steer his people carrier away from the heavily guarded Fairmont Hotel.

Breaking with convention, Jack asks his passengers why the recognises them and McGuinness (who shares the driver's interest in cricket) makes the introductions. But Patterson speaks to Jack through an earpiece (there is also a windshield camera beaming pictures back to an operations room) and encourages him to get Paisley and McGuinness talking as `they are the Troubles' and the deal is doomed unless they can find some common ground as human beings. Fortunately, McGuinness is thinking along the same lines and he tries to get Paisley to engage with him by discussing alcohol and line-dancing. But the DUP leader has no intention of letting his detested foe break the ice.

Jack mentions having once driven Samuel L. Jackson, but Paisley has no idea who he is (although he does recall that US President Andrew Jackson was a good Presbyterian). McGuinness mentions a few of his films, but Paisley growls that he has not been to the cinema since 1973, when he led a peaceful protest against a sinful movie. Amused, McGuinness tries to guess what might have upset him and ventures The Sting and Enter the Dragon before remembering The Exorcist. But Paisley shuts him up by accusing him of leading a bombing campaign, while he was trying to save souls.

When Paisley gets a call from his wife, McGuinness asks if he can borrow the phone, as he can't get a signal. But Paisley refuses and they get into a row when McGuinness blasphemes. Yet, just as he is about to compare the mobile to the DUP's attitude to Northern Ireland, he thinks better of it and hopes that the party is a success. He asks Paisley how he met his wife and he recalls her standing outside her father's grocery shop listening to him preach on some wasteland near the shipyard that built the Titanic. She had smiled at one of his jokes and he had ventured into the shop and made her laugh again while she was up a ladder. McGuinness teases him about being stand-up comedian and tries to imagine a time when Paisley was shy and quiet.

Swapping seats to face his adversary, McGuinness asks if he genuinely believes that priests and nuns were handing out guns and that the European Union is part of a papist conspiracy. When Paisley nods, McGuinness wonders if he really believes the Pope is the Antichrist and whether seat 666 in the European Parliament has been reserved for Satan. He demands to know why he peddles such tosh to followers who take his word as gospel and questions whether he has a duty to lead with more integrity.

As his passengers stare out of the window, Jack listens to Patterson musing on their poisonous hatred. But he still believes that they are the best way to bring about peace because they no longer have the stomach for violence and are desperate to prevent the younger generation seizing the reins and striving to bring 9/11-scale terror to Ulster. Patterson also alerts Jack to the need to buy time and he calls off the trailing security car and orders the chauffeur to take a detour through a country park to give Paisley and McGuinness more time to bond.

When McGuinness asks what's going on, Paisley taunts him about his need for the Queen's protection. But they are both shaken when Jack skids and punctures a tyre by crashing into a pile of logs. He claims to have swerved to avoid a deer and invites Paisley and McGuinness to step outside while he makes the necessary repairs. But they are not entirely convinced, as they are alone after taking a detour that no one else appears to be following. Patterson is furious with Jack, who is embarrassed when Paisley questions his methods for changing the wheel. But Patterson gets a rollocking of his own from Blair for dispensing with the security corps and stranding the two key players in the negotiations in the middle of nowhere.

As Blair tries to reassure Ahern and Adams that everything is under control, Paisley and McGuinness go for a stroll and bicker over the difference between a terrorist and a freedom fighter. But they trade insults after McGuinness blames the rise in Republican volunteers on Bloody Sunday, when 13 people were gunned down in Derry on 30 January 1972. Paisley denies having blood on his hands because he has only ever preached the Word of God. But, while he vehemently denies he is anything like McGuinness, they are both spooked by noises in the trees and, suddenly, they both remember they are vulnerable human beings who are not getting any younger and need to establish their legacy before it's too late. Moreover, when they find a dying deer in a clearing, Paisley gets a new insight into McGuinness when he doesn't have the heart to put it out of its misery.

They wander into an abandoned church and Paisley explains how the stained glass is based on stories from Foxe's Book of Martyrs. But McGuinness insists that there were martyrs on his side, too, and, when Paisley accuses him of letting Bobby Sands and his fellow hunger strikers die to score a publicity coup, McGuinness declares that there would be no peace process without them. As Blair tries to keep Paisley, Jr. and Adams calm at the hotel, Paisley climbs into the pulpit and McGuinness asks him for a bit of his `Never! Never! Never!' speech. But Paisley refuses and wonders why he is even contemplating betraying the people who have always trusted him. McGuinness smiles when he uses the word `we' for the first time, but Paisley immediately goes back on the defensive.

In the churchyard, McGuinness admits being moved by seeing Gordon Wilson on the news forgiving the IRA for the Remembrance Day bomb at Enniskillen on 8 November 1987. He admits it was a mistake and came to realise that the war had to stop when he couldn't justify the death of 12 people to his young daughter. But Paisley accuses him of shedding crocodile tears and McGuinness retorts that his counterpart is a big-headed bigot who exploits his supporters to further his own ends. Jack looks down in despair from the road and fears he is on a fool's errand. Yet, as he climbs back into the vehicle, Paisley suggests the time might have arrived for them to start doing things differently.

While Blair and the others watch the CCTV link, Jack pulls in for petrol, as darkness falls. Paisley and McGuinness go to the washroom and, as the former looks into a broken mirror, the latter asks how the title `First Minister' sounds. They emerge to find the garage attendant refusing to take Jack's bent credit card. So, Paisley relates the story of Christ driving the moneylenders from the Temple at full volume and the young man keys in the number by hand. Turning with a half-wink, Paisley goes to wait outside, while Jack fills the tank. He asks McGuinness if he ever killed anyone and he replies that every war has its casualties. Paisley snorts in derision, but McGuinness accuses him of starting the Troubles by refusing to back the Civil Rights campaign in the 1960s. He protests that he would have been as willing to die for the cause of Catholic equality as Martin Luther King had been for African-American rights. But he still brands Nelson Mandela a terrorist and is forced to double-take when McGuinness suggests that he could be as revered as Mandela if he took the giant step towards peace.

As Paisley gets back into the vehicle, wondering if he could lead his constituency to back the deal, McGuinness spots the gun in Jack's belt and grabs it and forces him up against the door. He calms down when Jack explains his mission, but is distracted by Paisley keeling over in his seat. Rushing to his side, he finds some pills in his pocket and jokes that he would be lynched if Paisley died in his company. The older man pats his hand and reassures him that he will be fine. But he insists on pressing on to the airport and they get the giggles imagining famous speeches with a Northern Irish `so it is' tagged on to the end of them. But, as they get closer to the airport, Paisley asks Jack to pull over.

They park in a quayside filled with small boats. Paisley asks McGuinness why they never tried to assassinate him and wonders if God has brought him to this spot for a purpose - or if McGuinness is the Devil tempting him down from the moral high ground with power. McGuinness reminds him that the Marian martyrs fought against the grain for a better future and urges Paisley to take the same leap of faith. But they travel the remaining miles in silence, until Jack leaves them alone in the hangar. Paisley agrees the change has to come. But he insists McGuinness apologises for the war crimes his side has committed. Yet, while he knows he could make the empty gesture in private, he has too much loyalty to his people to betray them in such a cheap way and Paisley smiles, commends him for giving a true politician's answer and extends his hand.

The onlookers at the golf resort breathe a collective sigh of relief, as Paisley and McGuinness sip tea on the plane. A caption records that they entered into shared devolved power on 8 May 2007 and forged such an unexpectedly strong partnership that they became known as `the Chuckle Brothers'. But events move much more quickly than film-makers might wish and the peace Hamm and Bateman celebrate is on much shakier ground than it was when their picture wrapped.

For much of the time, this is an excruciating watch, with the segments back at the hotel being particularly crass. In one of his last roles, John Hurt has to deliver an execrable speech about Paisley and McGuinnness being the incarnation of anarchy, while Toby Stephens insultingly plays Tony Blair like a buffoon in a Rory Bremner sketch. Intriguingly, no such mockery is directed at Bertie Ahern, Gerry Adams or Ian Paisley, Jr. But Blair is such a soft target these days and the decision to depict him in this manner ruinously undermines an already specious project.

Yet Colm Meaney and Timothy Spall are splendidly persuasive as the implacable enemies seeing sense and agreeing to take a risk together. Essaying a mischievous schemer, the former opts for a less obvious impersonation than the latter, who occasionally lets the stentorian gravitas slip to bear his tombstone teeth in a wheezing chortle. But they cannily convey how a working relationship might have evolved. But, while Bateman deserves credit for concocting such a ripping yarn and for reminding Northern Ireland's current leaders about the perils of intransigence, he never addresses the core issues in any depth and his script too often relies on reworking The Odd Couple scenario - which, of course, makes it all the more unconvincing and curiously compelling.

Among the potential pitfalls of any sporting biopic is the star's inability to emulate convincingly the subject's skill levels. Countless movies about boxing, baseball, cricket and football have fallen foul of these discrepancies between the audience's memories of a hero in his heyday and their opinion of his stand-in's efforts to throw a punch, hit a ball or dribble past five opponents before curling an unstoppable shot into the postage stamp.

Bobby Jones and Walter Hagen rank among the all-time greats, but you would never know it from watching Joel Gretsch and Bruce McGill in Robert Redford's The Legend of Bagger Vance (2000) or Jim Caviezel and Jeremy Northam in Rowdy Herrington's Bobby Jones: Stroke of Genius (2004). Similarly, James Paxton and Matthew Knight do Harry Varden and Francis Ouimet a profound disservice in Bill Paxton's The Greatest Game Ever Played (2005). But Peter Mullan and Jack Lowden scarcely make a better fist of things as Old and Young Tom Morris in Jason Connery's adaptation of Kevin Cook's tome, Tommy's Honour.

When Times journalist George Atwood, Jr. (Benjamin Wainwright) pays Old Tom Morris (Peter Mullan) at St Andrews golf course, he credits him with founding the Open Championship and with being one of the pioneers of the game. But Old Tom is only interested in telling the story of his son, Tommy (Jack Lowden), who picked up the game while watching his father caddy and give lessons to the red-coated toffs at the Royal and Ancient. Mother Nancy (Therese Bradley) disapproves of him wasting his time on the course and prefers him to keep an eye on siblings Lizzie (Kylie Hart), Jack (Max Coussins) and Jamie (Dylan Nelson). But no soon is he out of church on a Sunday than the 15 year-old Tommy is on the links with pals David Strath (Max Deacon) and James Hunter (Paul Tinto) to show them how to play a chip with backspin.

Club captain Alexander Boothby (Sam Neill) asks Old Tom to caddy for him in an upcoming competition and chides him for careless putting in a wager match against Willie Park (Ian Pirie), as it cost him £60 in bets. But Tommy has no intention of being a lackey like his father and turns down the offer to caddy for Boothby and vows to make a living as a professional player and not a plaything of the rich. However, Old Tom knows that his powers are waning and he heeds the advice of a senior club member to let Tommy loose and start earning his keep.

At the Open at Prestwick in 1868, Tommy hits a hole in one en route to taking the title, which he defends for the next two years. Old Tom proudly announces that he can keep the champion's leather belt and journalist George Attwood (Paul Reid) asks Tommy what he plans to do now he has conquered Scotland. Blackheath course captain Major Molesworth (Peter Ferdinando) tries to lure him south with promises of sizeable tips. But, even Tommy has been smitten at first sight by waitress Meg Drinnen (Ophelia Lovibond), he knows he wants to make his own way and he is all set to leave for London before Old Tom puts his foot down and orders him to stay in St Andrews to ensure he wins enough to keep a roof over their heads.

At Musselburgh in 1870, a match between the Morris and Park clans becomes highly territorial and Tommy ends up scrapping with locals intent on cheating to win their bets. He tells Hunter that he is tired of playing by the old rules. But he gets distracted by spotting Meg across the marketplace and is anything but deterred when she tells him that she is 10 years his senior and has no intention of stepping out with him. However, when he turns down an invitation from his friends to visit a brothel, Tommy pays Meg a nocturnal call and she smuggles him to her room above the restaurant.

Recognising that it cant do any harm to have an employee romancing a celebrity, her boss allows her to go and watch Tommy play in the rain. But, while he loses out in the 1873 open to Tom Kidd (Jonny McLeish), he feels emboldened after a picnic with Meg to visit Boothby at his home and announce that he will no longer play for tips out of their winnings. Instead, he will receive a fee in advance and will return to them an amount that he sees fit after his exertions. Boothby orders him out and snaps that he will never be a gentleman. But he is forced to hand over the cash after Tommy bursts into the clubhouse before an exhibition against Strath and so shames the members that the secretary hands over a wad of notes and Tommy gives Boothby his cut after he is beaten.

Tommy uses his winnings to buy Meg a dress and he asks what she thinks of love while eating cake during a train ride. She says she sets no store by it. But Nancy has been listening to gossip and learns from the local Presbyterian pastor, AKH Boyd (James Smillie), that, some years earlier, she had given birth to an illegitimate child, who had lived just three weeks. While Tom and Tommy pose for photographs for an Attwood article on their dominance of golf, Nancy goes to see Meg's impoverished mother and, when Tommy returns after beating an archer in a distance and accuracy contest, she and Tom lay down the law. However, he ignores her and proposes to Meg, who accepts and they marry in a neighbouring church in the absence of his parents.

Tom is more prepared to accept Meg and throws himself into designing the course at Carnoustie while Tommy makes his mark in Blackheath. He is now such a big name that he and Strath go on a tour of major courses in Scotland and England and play against each other or local pros for cash. Old Tom fears the game he knew is beginning to change. But holds his counsel, as he is impressed by the way that Meg reunites the family by talking Nancy into attending a Hogmanay supper. He even leads his brood out of church when Boyd rails against those who pursue wealth and seek to rise above their station. Moreover, he steps into the breach when Strath breaks his arm and Tommy needs a partner against Willie and Mungo Park (John Walker Gray) at North Berwick in 1875.

Leaving Meg in Lizzie's care, Tommy takes the train with his father and their pals and the tension crackles on the first tee. But Old Tom belies his reputation as a shaky putter to knock in a couple of hole winners and the mayor acting as referee has to suspend play when a fight breaks out among the gallery. As he awaits the resumption, Old Tom receives a telegram. However, he keeps the contents secret until they win on the last hole and they dash back to St Andrews by boat because Meg has gone into labour. Tommy remonstrates with his father on the journey for playing on when something much more important than golf was happening and he is crushed to get home to discover both his wife and his son have died.

Heartbroken and drunk, he cuts down the tree on which he had once carved his name. But he comes out of his grief-stricken reverie to take on Arthur Molesworth (Hamish Ireland) on a snowbound St Andrews. Strath and Hunter have to sober him up on the morning of the contest, which Boothby sends on its way from the clubhouse steps. Seeing his son struggling, however, Old Tom tries to suspend play in the falling snow. But Molesworth, Sr. insists that the game continues and Tommy strides to the next tee questioning his father's sudden belief in forfeiting wagers. He returns to his workshop to put a hot coal in a tin box to warm Tommy's hands, but Strath and Hunter have to help him to his feet when he falls to his knees on the frozen green.

Boothby sneeringly offers Charles Kinloch (Nicky Henson) odds against the local hero, but Tommy wins on the last hole by chipping over the ball that his opponent had deliberately placed to block his putt. Gracious in defeat, Major Molesworth comes to give Tommy a gift. But he dies during the night and Old Tom concludes the story to Attwood, Jr. by stating that his son might have died of a broken heart, but he was the best player of his age.

Closing captions note that Old Tom Morris remains the oldest winner of the Open at 46. He designed around 70 courses and continued to compete until he was 75. However, he also outlived every member of his family before dying in 1908 and never forgot the loss of his son on Christmas Day 1875 at the age of 24, just seven years after he became the youngest ever winner of the Championship.

Such details provide an overdue bit of historical context, when the hierarchical nature of golf in the 1860s should have been outlined much earlier in the piece, along with a distinction between challenge and championship play. But, for all its sincerity, this remains a flimsy tribute to Scotland's greatest golfing dynasty. Settling for `them' and `us' caricatures rather than fully fleshed individuals, screenwriters Kevin Cook and Pamela Marin clumsily seek to give the story a modern relevance. Yet they might have been better advised to focus on the changing face of sport rather than class and society by stressing how hard it was to make a living from golf in a time before sponsorship, media pampering and payday bonanzas.

Perhaps (given the political leanings of Connery's famous father), this is a pro-independence parable designed to show how the ghastly Sassenachs have always striven to suppress the brave-hearted Scots. But it fails in this regard, just as it struggles to work as either a romantic melodrama or an insight into what it feels like to be a son in the shadow of paternal greatness. The performances are solid enough, but they lack the intensity to draw the audience into the patchy plot. Similarly, while the costumes, interiors and golfing conditions pass muster, the slipshod digital effects used to make the balls behave around the greens leave this looking like a teleplay rather than a big-screen spectacle.

Britain has a decent track record when it comes to comedy horror. Dating back beyond Walter Forde's The Ghost Train and Marcel Varnel's The Ghost of St Michael's (both 1941), the sub-genre has so successfully relied on poking fun at British phlegm that even overseas directors like Roman Polanski (The Fearless Vampire Killers, 1967) and John Landis (An American Werewolf in London, 1981) have jumped on the bandwagon. Once upon a time, the likes of John Gilling's Mother Riley Meets a Vampire (1952), Pat Jackson's What a Carve Up! (1961) and Gerald Thomas's Carry On Screaming! (1966) would have cropped up regularly in TV schedules, while cult items like Freddie Francis's Mumsy, Nanny, Sonny and Girly (1970) and Ray Cameron's Bloodbath at the House of Death (1983) would have occupied graveyard slots.

Nothing will ever quite match the Vincent Price trio of The Abominable Dr Phibes (Robert Fuest, 1971), Dr Phibes Rides Again (Fuest, 1972) and Theatre of Blood (Douglas Hickox, 1973). But Edgar Wright's Shaun of the Dead (2004) and Ben Wheatley's Sightseers (2012) resuscitated the form and actor Jason Flemyng can take heart from the fact that his directorial debut, Eat Locals, is much worthier of consideration than such recent sub-standard offerings as Phil Clayden's Lesbian Vampire Killers (2009), Jonathan Glendening's Strippers vs Werewolves and Matthias Hoene's Cockneys vs Zombies (both 2012).

Charlie Cox is the first to arrive at a summit meeting taking place in the kitchen of a remote farmhouse. But, as Annette Crosbie, Freema Agyeman, Vincent Regan, Tony Curran and Jordan Long take their place at the table, soldier Johnny Palmiero is being chased through an adjoining wood by an unseen presence. Commander Robert Portal orders him to hold his ground, as they are an important mission that is being co-ordinated by Vatican representative Fr Mackenzie Crook. Meanwhile, at the nearby railway station, Essex likely lad Billy Cook banters with a couple of scallies while waiting for a lift from Eve Myles, who arrives the farmhouse which is now being guarded by the reticent and shade-wearing Lukaz Leong.

In the kitchen, a discussion is heating up about quotas and Regan promises to take up the matter with the European Council. However, testy Scot Curran sees no reason why he shouldn't stray into Cox's territory when he doesn't operate in the same manner as the rest of the group. Crosbie and Agyeman josh Curran for being greedy when he declares that immigrants should be fair game, as no one would notice if they disappeared. But Cox insists that they do vital jobs and that the economy would suffer if open season was declared.

However, Regan has called the meeting to discuss a more pressing problem, as someone has been killing children and he refuses to let such reckless behaviour besmirch the reputation of Britain's vampires or endanger them. He confronts Long with a newspaper headline and Curran tries to defend his friend. But Regan has made up his mind and he orders Long to be staked with a chair leg and his ashes are bagged up and tossed downstairs into the cellar. This swift and brutal punishment coincides with the arrival of Myles and Cook, who has been chosen to replace Long, as his blood is pure even though he's a Romany. Having been hoping for some hanky-panky with Myles, Cook is confused why he is suddenly in the middle of a parish meeting. But, when Crosbie's face reveals her true identity when she sneezes and Cook notices the lack of reflections in the mirror, he realises the severity of his situation.

Angry at Long being dispatched without debate, Curran votes against Cook's inclusion, however, and Regan apologises to that he is going to have to die because all decisions require unanimity. Cook promises to say nothing about what he has witnessed, but the die is cast. He tries to make a cross with kitchen utensils to ward them off and even slashes Myles's cheek. But the wound heals instantly and she scowls at Curran, who finds the whole thing hilarious. Cook attempts to scarper, but he is stopped by Leong and Portal, Palmiero and Crook are astonished to see from their heat-seeking equipment that there are several vampires inside the house.

Shortly after 11pm, Portal orders an attack that spares Cook from being bitten by Aygeman. However, Regan is accidentally staked during the one-sided battle that follows and his ashes follow Long's into the basement. Curran's request about Regan's territory is met with disapproving glares, but coven members realise they are in trouble because Portal plans to keep them confined until dawn does its worst. Deciding to keep Cook as a bargaining chip, Cox ties him to a chair alongside Dexter Fletcher and Ruth Jones, the farming couple who own the house and have been bound and gagged in the freezer room.

As Cilla Black's `Love's Just a Broken Heart' plays on the soundtrack, Crosbie and Leong borrow machine-guns from the dead troopers and lead a rearguard against Portal's reinforcements. Curran sits back sneering as Aygeman and Myles enter the fray before Crook orders the soldiers to stop firing, as they are wasting ammunition. Cox proves the point by removing a bullet from his shoulder, as he explains to Cook that he is a turned human who only feeds on animals. But, as the time ticks on to 1:40am, Portal announces to Crook that he intends taking one of the vampires alive, as he has been in touch with the scientists at the Infinity cosmetics company who need skin and blood samples to discover the secret of eternal youth.

While the vampires plan a mass breakout so that one can double back and slaughter Portal's men unhindered, Cook manages to wriggle free and unties Jones, who is taken to the control point in the woods. As she protests her innocence in the entire affair, Cook opens a fridge to find it full of preserved body parts that the cannibalistic Fletcher insists were there when they moved in. When he hears the gunshot that offs Jones, he pleads with Cook to let him go, as he was simply following his demented spouse's orders. However, he is grateful when Cook puts a bucket on his head and it deflects as bullet, as Portal attempts to capture Curran as he flees on a motorbike, Leong as he kung-fus his way out of the barn and Myles as she shushes a couple of noisy cluckers while hiding in the hen house.

One of the birds gets a roasting after a missile is fired through the door and Cox and Aygeman take shelter in the cellar as Portal closes in for the kill. Crosbie plays the dotty old dear card as she shuffles out of the house on a zimmer frame. But she blows her cover by slotting a swords into the neck of a sympathetic trooper, while Leong perishes to a crossbow bolt. Myles is also captured and tethered to a frame in the field. But Curran makes it back to the farmhouse and Cook mocks his outdated bravado when he boasts of having fought alongside Alexander the Great. Instead, he cites Cy Endfield's Zulu (1964) in suggesting that the vampires try to cut a deal, which is precisely what Palmiero predicts they will do. However, Crook is not quite so savvy and winds up being chained to his own frame after Myles bites his hand when he tries to examine her.

Around 3am, Cox and a hooded warm body wander into the field to powwow with Portal. He is in no mood to listen, however, and captures Cox before shooting his companion. Yet, within seconds of them walking away, they receive a radio report of carnage in the woods and the explanation comes in successive shots of Curran baring his bloodied teeth, a bundle of hot water bottles lying on the grass and Cook emerging from a chest freezer. But, with the time moving on to 5:30am, Portal is beginning to lose patience. Thus, he has Crook and Myles staked, with the latter vanishing into a ball of flame to Cox's dismay.

Meanwhile, Cook helps himself to Curran's discarded suit and slips past Palmiero in the woods before he is butchered by the cackling Fletcher. He is dispatched by Aygeman, just as Curran releases Cox and he breaks the habit of an undead lifetime by biting Portal. They are picked up by Cook and Aygeman in an army truck and they drive off into the sunrise (at first) before a trio of white-coated beauticians arrive to take their samples from the rabid Portal and the picture ends on a commercial for Jeunes rejuvenation cream.

Despite ending on one of the few ill-judged japes in a pleasingly knowing parody (another would be the flaming flying chicken), Flemyng and writer Danny King can congratulate themselves on a job well done. The gags about Brexit, paedophiles and anti-ageing creams don't exactly make this a satire, even when Fletcher (whose character is called Thatcher) gets to deliver a line about Mrs Thatcher being to blame for everything. But there are plenty of wisecracks to go round, while few will forget the sight of Annette Crosby wielding a submachine gun like the one she has at home. Indeed, the cast consistently wins the audience over to what are essentially ciphers with fangs. But, while the more familiar faces enjoy themselves, Billy Cook seizes the opportunity to emerge from the shadow of his famous father, David Essex, whose 1973 hit `Hold Me Close' is splendidly employed over the closing scene.

On the technical side, cinematographer Chas Bain and production designer Russell de Rozario establish neat contrasts between the dim interiors and the moonlit woods, while James Seymour Brett's score is consistently catchy. Calling the shots for the first time, veteran actor Flemyng makes intelligent and laudably unflashy use of the camera. He may not entirely explain the significance of the fox prowling around the vicinity, but he resists the temptation to compose his action sequences from diced shakicam segments and keeps the sound (Paul Carter), visual (David Payne and Thierry Nguyen) and make-up effects (Sangeet Prabhaker) satisfyingly simple. Indeed, one is left with a keenish sense of anticipation for Eat Global, which is promised at the end of a credit crawl that includes a fond nod to Dad's Army. The good one, not Oliver Parker's execrable remake, whose sole saving grace was also provided by Annette Crosbie in tandem with the ever-excellent Julia Foster.

As the United States becomes ever more divided with each tweet and utterance by President Donald Trump, screenwriters Nick Damici and Graham Reznick imagine a country on the verge of a second civil war in Cary Murnion and Jonathan Milott's dystopic actioner, Bushwick. Named after the Brooklyn neighbourhood in which the action takes place, this cannily provocative picture was supposedly inspired by former governor Rick Perry's 2009 declaration that that Texas would secede from the Union following the election of Barack Obama. But Damici and Reznick are more intent on creating a live-action video game than addressing the state of the nation, while Murnion and Milott are too hung up on kidding viewers into thinking they have staged the action as a single long take to bother with such niceties as plot logic, character development and dramatic nuance.

Arriving at the L Train station at Bushwick to introduce boyfriend Arturo Castro to her grandmother, civil engineering student Brittany Snow is spooked by how quiet the place seems. She is even more terrified when a man on fire runs through the concourse and Castro is killed by an explosion when he ventures above ground. Looking for help, Snow makes her way along the street and is about to be zip-tied by a black-uniformed soldier when he is gunned down by a passing car. She finds sanctuary in a grotty basement, but is followed by a couple of muggers, who demand her purse, only to be pulped by Dave Bautista, a janitor who informs Snow that many of northern America's biggest cities are under attack. But, while he rules out terrorists, he is evasive about the identity of the foe.

He is heading to Hoboken in New Jersey to find his wife and son, but agrees to escort Snow the few blocks to her grandmother's house. Hiding behind a dumpster, they scurry along the pavement with the sound of gunfire rattling around them. They take shelter in Snow's old school and realise that it has been occupied by the invaders. Passing a dead body in the corridor, they creep into the library, where Bautista shoots a shadowy figure before being wounded in the leg by flying glass after an explosion. He leads Snow to the roof and barricades the door before asking her to cauterise the gash in his calf with a knife heated by a flare torch. Squeamishly, she does the job, as Bautista reveals that he learned such tricks as a Marine. Gazing across the rooftops, they see helicopters in the sky and thick plumes of black smoke, but this is no time for staying put.

Making their way along a surprisingly empty street, they duck into Manny Alfaro's convenience store. Looters encourage them to grab what they can, but Bautista is more interested in the radio. Turning the dial away from a phone-in, he hears an official announcement about the government working to extract citizens from the besieged cities and he is not impressed. Snow is distraught to find Alfaro dying from a stab wound, but Bautista insists they keep moving. However, they run into the store thieves attempting to steal a car and Snow gets the tip of her ring finger shot off when she impulsively aims a gun at one of the thugs. Bautista kills him, but the others drive away and he has to hastily dress Snow's bleeding hand.

On arriving at the house, they discover grandma dead on the bedroom floor from a heart attack. Bautista reveals he was a medic in the military, as he stitches Snow's stump and admits that he got so tired of seeing people dying that he became a janitor. She asks if he believes in God, but he avoids answering, as she frets about not being able to wear a ring if she gets married. However, troops banging at the door force them to flee and, against Bautista's better judgement, they go to the apartment of Snow's spiky stoner sister, Angelic Zambrana.

While Snow freshens up, Zambrana tokes on a bong, bemoans the fact that her caged bird has escaped and accuses Bautista of wanting to sleep with Snow. But their chat is interrupted when Kentucky trooper Alex Breaux smashes through a window and Bautista has to use a body slam to disarm him. He explains that Texas has seceded from the Union and that the New American Coalition plans to form a new government for people to live in the true patriotic way. Revealing that Bushwick has been targeted because of its ethno-diversity, he protests that he has merely been following orders and warns Bautista that the neighbourhood has become a shoot-to-kill area, He also discloses that a demilitarised zone has been set up in Cleveland Park and Bautista pistol whips him unconscious so that they can make their getaway.

After being protected by a quartet of Hasidic freedom fighters armed with Molotov cocktails, the three fugitives hide in a nearby building, where they are held at gunpoint by Jeremie Harris until his African-American mama, Myra Lucretia Taylor, tells him to stop showing off. But she is also as tough as nails and she takes Zambrana hostage while Snow and Bautista pass a message to Fr Bill Bleichinberg at the Church of God that the weapons belonging to Harris's street gang are at the disposal of his congregation to fight a rearguard from the laundromat.

A full-scale battle is now raging outside and Bautista and Snow mingle with a vigilante unit to reach the church. However, Snow only finds the priest in time to see him commit suicide and her attempts to lead the parishioners to safety is stymied when Coalition soldiers storm the building. Snow and Bautista survive and, following a brief cutaway to some aerial views of the smouldering neighbourhood, they arrive at the launderette, where Bautista pours out his heart about losing his family on 9/11 and channelling his furious hated into fighting in Iraq. But he became haunted by death and tried to become invisible until this conflict broke out. They smile at each other, as they realise it has taken this long to get to know something about the other. But Bautista is shot by a frightened woman in the restroom when he goes for a leak and Snow perishes after she is reunited with Zambrana to fight her way to the choppers in the park.

The closing segment is the most video gamesque in a film that makes no bones about its intention to provide a vicarious experience for viewers more intrigued by survival than secession. Lyle Vincent's camera rig hovers a footstep behind the protagonists, as they scurry through streets and creep through dimly lit buildings. Despite struggling to generate a sense of place, the visuals are proficient enough. But they are wholly generic, as are the essentially anonymous characters, whose sole raison d'être is to keep the story moving before perishing.

Wrestler-turned-actor Bautista makes the most of his climactic speech, while Snow's transformation into a mettlesome combatant becomes increasingly plausible. Moreover, Reznik's sound design admirably compensates for the budgetary inability to stage a grand-scale battle, while indie hip-hop artist Aesop Rock's pounding score also makes a solid contribution. But the lumpen script's failure to examine America's north-south tensions in any depth is a fatal flaw, especially as the UK release just happens to coincide with the fallout from the Charlottesville furore over the future of the Confederate legacy. Thus, this represents a wasted opportunity that should only detain those who prefer their movies to look like a Call of Duty spin-off.

Closer in look and tone to Aaron Woodley's Spark than Michael Dudok de Wit's The Red Turtle or Claude Barras's My Life As a Courgette, Ash Brannon's Rock Dog magpies from several superior animated outings in adapting a graphic novel by Chinese musician Zheng Jun. The voice cast works hard to make it seem fun and the odd gag does raise a smile. But this well-intentioned, but bland blend of Tibetan Zen and Western aspirationalism (which has curiously been released a little late for half-term) lacks the narrative invention and comic cutting edge to capture the tweenage imagination.

As narrator Fleetwood Yak (Sam Elliott) reveals, the Himalayan village of Snow Mountain is under constant threat from a grey wolf pack led by the snarling Linnux (Lewis Black). In repelling the last attack, all but one of the toughest Tibetan Mastiffs was killed and Khampa (JK Simmons) is concerned that his son, Bodi (Luke Wilson), lacks the right stuff to become a fearsome warrior. Anything but a natural martial artist, Bodi struggles to master the Iron Paw technique that requires him to `find the fire'. Moreover, he is easily distracted by playing a stringed instrument called a dramyin and hopes to become a musician, even though his father has banned such frivolous pastimes, as they deflect a warrior's focus.

One day, Bodi makes such a mess of a training exercise that he causes a passing aeroplane to drop a package in the snow. Inside, he finds a red radio and quickly becomes hooked on the music of a superstar British Persian cat named Angus Scattergood (Eddie Izzard) and adds extra strings to his dramyin so that it sounds more like a Western guitar. Keeping the purloined instrument hidden from his father, Bodi tries to be a good guard alongside sheep pals Floyd and Carl (both Will Finn). But he is fooled into believing a raid is underway when Khampa dresses as a wolf to keep the flock on its toes and, in the resulting false alarm chaos, the firework store catches fire and lights up the sky. Convinced it would be better for everyone if Bodi was allowed to follow his dream, Fleetwood Yak convinces Khampa to let his son try his luck in the city, on the proviso that he returns to do his duty if things don't work out. Carrying just his guitar, Bodi boards a bus with a mixture of trepidation and excitement. However, he is spotted by two of Linnux's henchman, the diminutive Riff (Kenan Thompson) and the hulkingly silent Skozz. They report back to the boss, who orders them to kidnap Bodi while he makes plans to capture Snow Mountain. Oblivious to the danger he now faces, Bodi heads to Rock`n'Roll Park, where he meets bass guitarist fox Darma (Mae Whitman) and goat drummer Germur (Jorge Garcia), who play in a combo with Trey (Matt Dillon), a self-regarding snow leopard who convinces Bodi that Angus Scattergood would willingly give him guitar lessons if he dropped round to his mansion.

In fact, Angus is in a foul mood, as he is suffering from a serious case of writer's block and has been warned by his record label that he will be dropped unless he comes up with a new hit in the next three days. He is busy bemoaning his fate to his robot butler, Ozzie, when Bodi shows up at his heavily fortified home. Astonished that such a guileless fan could breach his security, Angus humours Bodi in the hope of driving him away. But they wind up stranded outside the electrified fence and Bodi offers to busk at Rock`n'Roll Park to earn Angus's fare home. Darms and Germur are sceptical when Bodi informs them that Angus is his new pal. But he is mistakenly abducted by Riff and Skozz before Bodi can introduce him and Trey mocks him for being a dreamer.

Linnux is furious with his sidekicks for making such a stupid mistake and orders them to take Angus home before finding Bodi. However, they don't think that Bodi will show up at the mansion and sit on the pavement in the hope of apologising to his idol. As he plays mournfully, the sound of his strumming reaches Angus, who recognises a hit when he hears one and he whisks Bodi inside with the promise of a guitar lesson. He even offers to let him use one of the instruments in his enormous collection, albeit a rather battered one. But, together, they work on the song and record it as `Glorious'.

Overjoyed to have collaborated with Angus, Bodi returns to the park in time to hear the single being played on the radio. He is disappointed, however, to hear Angus take sole credit for the tune and feels so low that he not only allows himself to be captured by Riff and Skozz, but he also lets slip to Linnux that the force defending Snow Mountain is made up solely of sheep in Mastiffs' clothing. While Linnux devotes himself to planning his attack, Bodi is dispatched to his cage-fighting club, where he finds himself up against a ferocious opponent. However, he uses his wits to dupe his adversary into smashing the cage so that he can beat a hasty retreat.

Meanwhile, Ozzie has shamed Angus into seeking out Bodi to thank him for his inspiration. He drives his old tour bus to Rock`n'Roll Park in order to give him an autograph and the shabby acoustic guitar. But Darma and Germur have found the abandoned dramyin riddled with tranquilliser darts and convince Angus that he has a duty to find and rescue Bodi. Fortunately, they find him wandering the streets and whisk him off to Snow Mountain to warn Khampa of the oncoming onslaught. By the time they arrive, however, Linnux has conquered Khampa and is gloating about the prospect of dining on lamb. But Bodi finds the fire and, having escaped capture in a madcap chase around the village, he begins to play Angus's guitar with such passion that the wolves are swept into the air and becomes suspended in animation with the sheep and his new friends.

Khamps is proud to see his son excelling at his chosen vocation and gives his permission for him to become a musician. He also subjects Linnux to a little Iron Paw treatment before banishing him from the mountain. As the film ends, Khampa is joined by the penitent Riff and Skozz at a special concert, at which Bodi and Angus play `Glorious' to ecstatic cheers.

Ripping off everything from Kung Fu Panda (2008) and Shaun the Sheep Movie (2015) to Footloose (1984) and Hop (2011), this undemanding feel-good frolic is about as derivative as it gets. Even Eddie Izzard's Machiavellian moggie sounds like Russell Brand's drum-mad Easter Island bunny. The pixellated characters lack personality and charm, while the frantic chase and slapstick sequences seem to have been lifted from a video game, such is their clumsy eagerness to immerse the audience in the action. This is doubly a shame, as the basic story premise has potential and Pixar alumnus Ash Brannon has demonstrated with Surf's Up (2007) - a mockumentary about a wannabe surfing penguin that was co-directed by Chris Buck - that he can produce left-field animal morality tales with something to amuse the whole family.

It doesn't help that the songs by Adam Friedman and Rolfe Kent are so trite in comparison to soundtrack offerings like `Learn to Fly' by Foo Fighters, `No Surprises' by Radiohead and `Dreams' by Beck. But the real problem here are the visuals, with Snow Mountain lacking an idyll's necessary `no place like home' vibe, while the city is bereft of the kind of grandiosity that would slacken the jaw of a rube like Bodi. The designers may well have been hampered by a need to stick closely to Zheng Jun's original concepts, but surely a director with two Toy Story credits on his CV could have done something to zhuzh up the workaday visuals.