The dialog is very terrible. And the problem, therefore, is that the actors have to wrestle with very terrible dialog.

Its makers have somehow convinced themselves that there's not only a story we care about, but an arc to be followed.

This repetitive, glassy-eyed finale feels more like a weak victory lap, offering little pleasure but plenty of lifestyle porn (not to mention product placement) by way of luxury cars, a decadent Paris honeymoon and an enviable alpine view bubble bath.

The best film in the trilogy. Yet considering the general awfulness of this franchise, this is the equivalent of saying it’s better to lose only one finger rather than three in an industrial accident.