Where do we start with a film that follows in the wake of Spiderman and X-Men as examples of successful comic to screen franchises that have made both their stars and comic books cooler than cool. We start by raising an eyebrow and the choice of cast which seems a mixture of four different generations of cast that were cobbled together mixing together more like oil and water than oil and, er, something that would mix well with oil.

The cast is pretty poor all round, being either to brash or simply inexperienced to handle roles where an imagination and fun wouldn’t go amiss. The cast seems to take their roles far more seriously than they perhaps should. You expect someone to snap at any point, throw a rattle on the floor and roll around in a tantrum. Relax people, it’s just a film, and all the magical wizadry is not expected of you – that’s why they call in the the “special effects” team. Shame then, as the characters, though lacking in depth within the script, seem like far more interesting personas than offered by the cast.

Jessica Alba gets more screen time than most, and why not? She is after all tasty eye candy for the vast majority, and if she doesnt’ get your blood bubbling, you may need to see a doctor for a box of Viagra. Sexy, not really, but sexual for sure. She wears the tight outfits, and even dons a school/teacher out fit complete with glasses and ass that begs spanking for. I don’t know the names of the other guys, but I have seen one in teen horror flicks I believe, and another who plays the evil Dr Doom in a TV series. The men are so secondary, that there mere presence is invisible which is ironic since Alba’s character is The Invisible Woman.

Fantastic Four bored the hell out of me, to the point of making me want to gnaw my arm off and be molested by dead seals. It’s glamour, teenage kicks, special effects and no substance whatsoever. I partially succumbed to Xmen, and Xmen 2 was a little too much of a show off. Spiderman simply turned me off, even as entertainment rather than a recreation of the comics.

Fantastic Four tries hard, so hard to put a story in there, anywhere, somewhere but it’s like ramming Shakespeare down your throat and expecting you to know because you ate a freaking book. Not that I could compare the Four Dead Weights to Shakespeare, that would be like comparing a Japanese toilet that sings and dances everytime you deposit to the cesspool of vomit that’s demonstrated ably by Trainspotting as the worst toilet in Scotland.

So what of the story – if I told you wouldn’t have to watch the film. It could be said that I would be doing you a favour, but I could also be called a sadist by making sure you watch the same stomach cramping, puke producing, rancid rubbish that I had to endure. The kids that are in their younger years may gleam some nonsensical fun with the snow boarding and motorcross, but for normal people, this film offers nothing that hasn’t been done before, and done infinitely better.

Verdict: A Fantastic Bore with enough special effects to cause rapid diarrhea. Flush and begone