The plot is familiar from previous instalments in the ‘Final Destination’ series: forgettable well-sculpted do-gooder receives visions of impending disaster (in this case a nasty Nascar pileup) and hustles his chums out of danger. This causes the non-corporeal spirit of random death to become mightily peeved and come gunning for each of them in a variety of inventive and increasingly budget-taxing ways.
There’s not a great deal to defend in ‘The Final Destination': the characters are flimsy and interchangeable, the actors portraying them bland and inoffensive. The script serves as merely a framework for a repetitive series of shock deaths, each of which is clearly signposted well in advance. But that’s half the fun: giggling as the shadow of a loaded crane looms menacingly overhead or a bottle of slippery hair oil tips silently across a well-polished floor. Some of the more gratuitously nasty scenes do leave a sour taste – in particular, a gruesome reference to Chuck Palahniuk’s infamous swimming pool horror story ‘Guts’ – and the film’s 15 certificate is surprisingly generous. But this is harmless, inventive fun, a rollercoaster ride on the 3D bandwagon, before the wheels fall off.