Venom: The Last Dance

Venom: The Last Dance is not some great comic book superhero masterpiece, and neither were the first two pieces of this trilogy. But Hardy and Marcel had a game plan and they steadfastly followed it all the way to the end. I respect that.

The comedy is below par, the set-pieces distinctly unmemorable and the plot holes are gaping.

Billed as the final instalment of the Venom trilogy and feels like a contractual obligation for nearly everyone concerned.

The Last Dance remains steadfast in the franchise’s commitment to storytelling that, like a pot of water that never quite hits boiling point, is neither so-bad-it’s-good nor so bad it’s raucously entertaining, even if only unintentionally so.

The film is, for the most part, a litany of bad, embarrassing or lowest-common-denominator choices, and it’s unsurprising that the love interest from previous films, Michelle Williams, has opted to cut and run with this new one.

Hardy is a highlight, playing Eddie as a man who has had more than enough of the party that's raging in his head, but Kelly Marcel's film is a sloppy, incoherent let-down.

Venom: The Last Dance is choppy and nonsensical and isn’t even enjoyable as a hate watch. Sony even has the nerve to threaten the audience with a continuation of the worn-out series, and no one wants that.

Worst interior monologue ever -- I hope it is the last dance.

Basically, I like these movies more than I actually respect them.

Hardy’s endearingly oblong central performance and the way he vibes with his alien pal make all of these compulsively watchable when they’re on screen.