Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 (2015)

If anything, Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 ups that sadness quotient, spending much of its opening proving that just because these movies are stupider than "Observe And Report" doesn’t mean they have to be less cripplingly depressing.

It’s not that the film is particularly loathsome, or that Blart is an overweeningly horrible character. What rankles is that he’s barely anything at all; a stereotype of a stereotype; a half-remembered punchline; a stomach with a moustache and wheels. As you watch the film, it’s already forgotten.

Is it never funny? No, it’s not never funny. It’s just not funny nearly often enough.

Sequels are cynical by nature, but this one, with its casino product placement ad and director Andy Fickman apparently checking his text messages instead of trying to punch the limp gags into shape, is purely a paycheck. James may not deserve better, but the kids they’re pitching this to do.

Paul Blart: Mall Cop 2 does all it was created to do: exist.