I’m just going to come out and say it. I don’t like Leigh Francis. Bo’ Selecta was rubbish. Keith Lemon is rubbish. Therefore Leigh Francis (I find it hard to come to any other conclusion) is rubbish.

You would thus be right in thinking that I entered Keith Lemon: The Film with my expectations hovering in the ‘probably worse than Police Academy 2′ zone. A zone that I reserve for only the worst cinematic garbage (some of the inhabitants of this zone of course include Police Academy’s 3 through 7).

So here I am with a sort of critical predicament. Do I give Keith Lemon: The Film the going over I always knew I would or do I try and see it from the fans perspective (a perspective it is clearly aimed at)? Well sticking to my guns I should of course give my own personal response. I should give it a good swift kick in it’s pixellated knackers (more on pixellated knackers later) and be done with it. But that would be too easy. To give it the coating over it really deserves I’m going to tell you why even fans are going to hate it.

The film opens with Lemon gurning and groaning as he dreams of having sex with Kelly Brook. He then wakes up, gives us a second to take it all in (his out of shape body – hahahaha) and then farts (out of his bumhole – OMFG I’m dying of laughter). Then before I can shout “get me a sewing kit my sides have split!” he eats a mashed potato sandwich and…well…you get the jist.

While facile, artless comedy may have a place on ITV2 for half an hour on a weeknight once you get into the cinema you have to try a bit harder. Simply chucking in more half-arsed celebrity cameos than you can shake a prick at isn’t going to cut it. Which brings me to my earlier point – pixellated knackers. Any film in which a character daydreams and starts acting upon that daydream in public to comedy effect is going to be appalling. Add in that this daydream of a blowjob, on Millennium Bridge, with a pixellated erection, then not only am I bored, but I’m distinctly unimpressed too.

Celebrity Juice may just be a bit of risque knockabout fun to the many people who watch it. But it’s fun with structure, with in-jokes and with a sense of it’s own stupidity. It’s a bit like a fake tanning man’s Shooting Stars. But once you put that on film you need more. Even if you enjoy Francis’ schtick, it’ll probably make you want to schtick pins in your eyes in this 90 minute, disorienting format. No one will really go to see this film who isn’t a fan and take it from me, the half full screening I was in had much in the way of walkouts and little in the way of laughs.

What I regret the most is that I actually smiled twice. Once for Paddy McGuinness’ nod to Take Me Out (I’m a sucker for a ‘no likey’ joke) and once when Keith Lemon came all over his own face at the mere sight of Kelly Brook. So not only was I bored in the cinema but I was ashamed of myself as well. Perfect.