★★

When is dumb fun just dumb? When is homage just stealing? Meg 2: The Trench – and the definition of a un-called for sequel – answers on both counts with with two soggy thumbs in its own wet face. As directed by the once interesting Ben Wheatley, the film plods along with listless energy, tugging along a desperately shipwrecked cast with all the enthusiasm of an industrial trawler. To its minor credit, things pick up in a last ditch dash of bonkers. This is a film of thirds. The first third is poor. The second is even worse. Only in the final third does Meg 2 find any semblance of the batshit mojo it should have enjoyed from the off and only by pilfering from the back catalogue. Jaws was never really about the shark, Meg 2 is but frequently seems to forget it.