Back when I was 9 years old, the A-Team was awesome man, representing a fantastic Saturday afternoon escape from the clutches of a mother hell-bent on dragging me around the town centre to purchase ill-fitting school shoes, the adventures of Hannibal, Face, Murdoch and B.A happily helped form my entire view of the Midwest, a mythical land full of villainous landowners, oppressed townsfolk, and non-murderous mercenaries who would happily defend your property and your honour –even if doing so involved building a tank that launched cabbages at heavily armed brigands. Over the years, I’ve caught a few reruns and realised that like its contemporaries, it’s actually slow, disastrously plotted mix of improbable scenarios, comedy villains and cigar-chomping, milk-drinking catchphrases. Luckily, the movie is exactly the same.

When 80’s properties get Hollywoodized, they usually fall foul of the urge to make them more adult, more gritty, more ‘real’. Luckily the team behind the team has realised that this is absolutely ridiculous to begin with, and have decided instead to concentrate on cramming in explosions, machine-guns, and of course, jeeps which crash and explode, only to have their occupants step clear of the wreckage rubbing their heads in time to be tied up. Of course, this could be a problem –on TV, this kind of crap is beamed into your brain for free, it’s a guilty pleasure, but hey, it’s free man –but is it really worth paying £6 to watch Liam Neeson say ‘I love it when a plan comes together’?

Well…probably. Just like the show, the plot is all over the place, and it relies heavily on all that pent-up childhood goodwill, but its entertaining enough guff, with a fairly successful update –the team making the change from Vietnam SF to Gulf War army rangers for example –and some explosive action scenes. On the down side, there’s a hundred fairly good action flicks doing the rounds this summer, so it’s a shame that the A-Team struggle to rise above the C-List.

OK, so – the aforementioned wobbly plotting. Basically we get the usual origin story, expanding back beyond the ‘crime they didn’t commit’ to the team’s first get together down Mexico way, and it’s business as usual from the off. Hannibal chews cigars and has a penchant for dressing up, Face seems to have taken a Navy SEAL training course in banging anything with a pulse, B.A is a fan of his van and will happily eat any cheeseburger you put in front of him, and Murdoch is certifiably howlin’ mad. After bustin’ out of prison, the boys try to clear their name while being ruthlessly pursued by Patrick Wilson’s slimy CIA agent, and bump head s with their former commander General Morrison, bump uglies with unlikely officer Jessica Biel –and of course, meddle in the dastardly doings of a corrupt businessman, in this case, the head of a very Blackwater-esque security firm.

Erm..and that’s about it. On the plus side, the budget is clearly immense, meaning a parachuting tank can blow planes out of the air, Lamborghinis can explode, millions of rounds can be expended, and Hannibal can buy terrible disguises and tranquilisers to put in B.A’s milk. The downers? Well, if anything, it’s not stoopid enough. If the producers had gone for ultra-stylised cartoon fun then it would be –as Face so frequently states – ‘Awesome!’. As it is, it’s a bit mid-range, which after so much hype, development and years of manly expectation it’s just a little too serious. Frankly, it’s just difficult to become emotionally invested in a certifiable airline pilot and a man called ‘Rampage’ Jackson.

While it does rely a bit too much on your pre-teen goodwill, the A-Team is a big barrel of explodey-fun, most action movies have one villain, and a team on one adventure, here there’s a seemingly endless stream of reasons for things to blow up, dastardly property developers to cackle and Ms.Biel’s clothes to vamoose, and of course there’s that theme-tune. Really, what more do you want from a summer actionfest?

The A-Team isn’t quite A-Grade, but it’s a solid start to what’s obviously being touted as a franchise, and has the potential to mature into a bloody ridiculous series.

Curtis ‘50 Cent’ Jackson brings all the lack of charisma that saw him through his awful excursions into video game territory to Alex De Rakoff’s dodgy gangsta thriller with less than successful results.

Seemingly arriving 15 years too late, Rakoff appears to be hunting for parallel lines between English and US gangster flicks, but unfortunately for him – there aren’t any. Stateside, it’s all about belonging to a family. In the UK? Well according to the movies, it’s generally about making some extra cash while wearing a camel-coat.

On the plus side, he’s been gifted with a truly mind-boggling casting director, who’s seen fit to put Fiddy up against Danny DeVito, then shoehorn in Danny Dyer and..erm..Brenda Blethyn.

The well-dodgy plot sees a couple of wide-boy travel agents (Dyer and a hard-working Tamer Hassan) trying to raise £100,000 in 24 hours to satisfy Jackson’s crime boss. While there’s plenty of overly-ripe mockerney shouting to entertain, the whole thing wobbles along on it’s already unsteady wheels, and isn’t served by travelling a road chock full of plot holes.

When Jackson is on screen, this is laughable rubbish, when he’s off it’s likeable enough nonsense that may have served better as an hour long TV special, Dyer too ridiculous to take entirely seriously, Fiddy too unspeakably craptabulous to know he’s the worst thing in a movie that’s hardly Citizen Kane to begin with.

This will happily pass a hour and a half on a wet Sunday afternoon but don’t expect any real insight into the culture- although it does leave the field wide open for a sequel exploring exactly who would buy a holiday from Danny Dyer.