God, this is rubbish.

Let's face it: any movie which leaves you almost nostalgic for Eli Roth's original Hostel has got some serious issues. As turgid, juvenile and derivative as the first instalment was, this rushed-out follow up makes Part One look like it had Fellini on camera and David Mamet on scripting duties.

The story? Well, we'll cobble together what pieces we can find. Basically Hostel Part II is just a retread of the first film, in which a group of spoilt American students get tricked into staying at a resort which doubles up as a handy torture chamber - a place where rich people pay extortionate amounts of money for the pleasure of sticking power tools into screaming backpackers. The 'twist' this time around, however, is that our protagonists are exclusively female - meaning that Roth can play that all-important misogyny card to his heart's content.

It’s a well known fact that old people are absolutely fucking useless and generally get in everybody’s way. If they're not all whining about how winter is too cold then they're whining about how summer is too hot. You can’t bloody win. 

Hollywood usually spews out more young actors and actresses quicker then X Factor produces one hit wonders. Not a day goes by without some new starlet popping up, leaving us scratching our heads while we try to work out who they are. However, the older generation is still lurking around like a bad rash, and they’ve all come together to make Wild Hogs - a film about riding motorbikes. 

An American critic once remarked of David Lynch's Lost Highway: "for the first 15 minutes, it's the greatest film ever made. Why watch the rest?"

In a sense this could be applied to Sunshine - the new high-concept science fiction movie in which Cillian Murphy's team of intrepid astronauts set out on a mission to reignite the sun and save our 'dying planet'. Not that this ranks as one of the greatest cinematic achievements ever - hell, it's not even director Danny Boyle's best film - but Sunshine does suffer from one of the most disproportionately bad third acts in recent movie-memory. We're not going to dish out any spoilers here... but there's a definite Event Horizon feel to things by the time the credits roll.

Because hecklerspray is growing quicker then an obese child in a chip show, people are beginning to be kind to us and other us stuff for free which is always a plus in our books. Sometimes we also get invited to watch stuff which isn’t even out!

This week we weren’t quite whisked off in a limo to a glitzy premiere, but instead to a screening in a rough-looking cinema with other journalists who didn’t take kindly to us immaturely flicking popcorn at them. As you’ll know, 300 is currently riding high at the top of the US box office and has done so since its release. The same is expected here in the UK now it's finally out over here. But is it worth the hype?

There's something of a British theme this time around, folks, what with two of the major releases over the next seven days having a distinctly Anglo-Saxon twist to them.

No, wait. Come back. There's nothing to be scared of. Because - and believe us, hecklerspray has already scanned the heavens for signs of flying little piggies - these British films are actually quite good. Yes, the fart-lingering stench of The Full Monty and Snatch may have taken a temporary reprieve ...

Under the starlight cover of darkness a secret press screening for the big screen version of The League of Gentleman has taken place.

No doubt all the lucky viewers were sworn to secrecy, but there’s always one that lets something slip.

The most fantastically bizarre bit of TV comedy in the last ten years has recieved the fat budget movie treatment. Apart from a smidgen of digital tinkering (let’s hope the new Doctor Who visual effects department aren’t involved), it’s all finished and ready to ship.

So, are we talking Bean or Brian here? Ladies, Gentleman and Dave, it’s time to find out…

God, hecklerspray hates what Star Wars has turned into. The glory days of our action figure-collecting youth have been shat on by Jar Jar Binks and beat up by a ninjafied Yoda.

So here's a newsflash that shouldn't come as any great surprise: Revenge Of The Sith is going to be cack. It is, dammit. It's going to have the same awful dialogue, psuedo-philosophical arse-posturing and emotionally-retarded 'storyline' as all five previous films.

The only force hecklerspray feels upon hearing yet another cine-illiterate imbecile rant excitedly about 'the fall of Anakin Skywalker' is the compulsive urge to slap them in their mewling schoolboy face.

Now for some Unoriginal Trash designed to get the kids in on a Saturday night. Prepare for the worst, reader: there's no talking Italian going on in this banal shocker featuring Robert De Niro...