Hercules is highly entertaining.  It’s utter hogwash, story-wise, but certainly not lacklustre.

Director Brett Ratner delivers a paint-by-numbers, epic action-adventure that succeeds in finding the correct tenor and the proper pacing by placing Dwayne “The Rock” Johnson front and centre. Like almost all action movies, it lacks substance.  But it stays true to its genre and is delightful enough to make it a genuine guilty pleasure.

Hercules (Johnson) has completed his renowned 12 labours. Despite his legendary status, he is now a mercenary. When King Cotys of Thrace (John Hurt) and his daughter, Ergenia (Rebecca Ferguson), seek Hercules’ assistance in defeating savage warlord Rhesus (Tobias Santelmann), the son of Zeus must embrace his legend and become a true hero.

With the aid of his steadfast followers – Amazon warrior Atalanta (Ingrid Bolsø Berdal); Amphiaraus (Ian McShane), a seer whose predictions are amusing; Spartan soldier Autolycus (Rufus Sewell) and damaged survivor Iolaus (Reece Ritchie) – Hercules ensures that the truth will prevail and the rightful king will sit on the throne.

Predictable? Yes. But fun nonetheless. The film doesn’t take itself too seriously, yet nor is it a parody. This middle ground allows the violence, gore and blood to seem, in some respects, reasonable, if not always totally acceptable.

The great marvel in this comic-book-style reinvention of Hercules is that it manages to preserve a touch of the integrity of the classic demigod and yet conjure up a man astute, edgy and charismatic enough to appeal to a movie audience. Good stuff.