Woody Allen’s output in the last decade may have veered from the sublime (Sweet & Lowdown) to the haplessly awful (Small Time Crooks), but his hugely impressive body of work down the decades has ensured that all his movies have a fairly large ready-made audience, a state of affairs which may not last much longer if he continues churning out self-satisfied dreck like Curse of the Jade Scorpion.

Starring Allen as a ‘40s private dick who becomes romantically involved in ludicrous circumstances with a work colleague (Helen Hunt), in spite of their visible hatred of one another’s guts, it’s a watchable but daft and poorly-plotted venture, with little of real value to recommend it beyond the occasional pleasing one-line wisecrack.

Departing little if at all from his established persona, Allen essays ace detective CW Briggs as a smart-arsed, sharp-tongued, deeply obnoxious character prone to thinking his more misogynistic thoughts out loud, but who nonetheless (in time-honoured Allen fashion) lands girls a fraction of his age with an apparent minimum of effort. These include by-now Allen regular Charlize Theron, and even Showgirls casualty Elizabeth Berkley.

While a couple of Curse of the Jade Scorpion’s comic moments work well enough, the presence of Dan Aykroyd as Allen’s arch-nemesis really tells you all you need to know about its general credibility. Woody is still liked by most and loved by many: he doesn’t owe us anything, but he badly needs another good film to remain relevant for any longer.