The Unbeatables 3D (U)***

David Calder as Julius Caesar in the play of the same name at The Bridge Theatre. Picture by Manuel Harlan

Beware the Ides of March, but enjoy this screening

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The beautiful game turns ugly in Juan Jose Campanella’s free-flowing computer-animated fantasy. Released on home turf in South America more than a year ago where it scored a record-breaking opening weekend, this English language version is a visual treat.

However the script scores a few own goals with a tepid romantic subplot and an emotionally underpowered final shootout that fails to rouse audiences on the terraces of their multiplexes.

Cartoon hijinks in The Unbeatables

Cartoon hijinks in The Unbeatables

And surely Campanella’s film should have kicked off four weeks ago on the crest of a post-World Cup wave rather than standing on the touchlines until the start of the new Premier League season?

The film’s unlikely hero is Amadeo (voiced by Rupert Grint), who lives in a small village with his publican father (Darren Boyd). The lad is a wizard at table football and when local bully Flash (Anthony Head) challenges Amadeo, he overcomes his nerves to emerge victorious with his favoured yellow and green striped team.

Flash vows revenge. Many years later, the bully returns as a footballing superstar with a slimy agent (Stanley Townsend) and a contract, signed by the mayor, granting him permission to build a gargantuan stadium on top of the village.

To save the community from the bulldozers, Amadeo reluctantly agrees to a rematch – only this time, they will play on a proper pitch.

In the run-up to the televised grudge fixture, Amadeo’s table footballers magically come to life.

Skip (Ralf Little), captain of the green and yellow stripes, rallies his troops including fellow strikers Rico (Rob Brydon) and Loco (Peter Serafinowicz).

Unfortunately, Amadeo’s best players are barely an inch tall so the lad must recruit eccentric friends and neighbours to his squad. The Unbeatables is a classic David vs Goliath yarn that pokes fun at the preening prima donnas of the modern game.

Vocal performances hit the woodwork, combining warmth with some shameless grandstanding from Brydon as the egotist, who spends almost as much time admiring his voluminous locks as he does perfecting his passing shots.