Furry critters and house elves run riot in this annoying kids’ movie, which is heavy on snarky dialogue but low on charm

Made in Russia in 2022, this animated flick has been dubbed in American English for global release, but it seems unlikely that it made much difference one way or another to what is a hectic, charmless and generally annoying piece of family entertainment.

The storyline concerns Finns, a sort of house-elf or goblin, whose stated narrative function is to help human households run more efficiently, and whose function in practice is to be incredibly irritating. The most infuriating one is our hero, Finnick, who, in addition to a grating array of Scooby-Doo style non-verbal vocalisations, comes out with lots of lines that have the cadence of a witticism without actually being funny. You know the sort of thing: “I can’t believe I signed up for this!” or “Where do my tax dollars go?” It’s the brand of sub-Garfield humour whereby the idea of a furry critter paying or indeed being aware of the concept of tax dollars poses fraudulently as a rib-tickler.

Voiced by Samuel L Jackson and Chris Pratt, this latest animated take on the plus-sized moggy is the cat’s whiskers

It’s a bit of a monkeys and typewriters situation: if you make enough Garfield movies, eventually one will turn out to be worth watching. This animated take on the adventures of the plus-sized ginger sourpuss is a refreshing step up from the lazy, lasagne-based humour of the live(ish) action versions. Directed by Mark Dindal (The Emperor’s New Groove) and co-written by David Reynolds (Finding Nemo), Paul A Kaplan and Mark Torgove, this feline adventure combines a frantic, Looney Tunes energy with some genuinely sharp comedy. Garfield (Chris Pratt) is reunited with his estranged father Vic (Samuel L Jackson) and discovers that he has inherited more than just a taste for Italian food.

In UK and Irish cinemas now

A baffling misunderstanding of the charm and appeal of the grouchy cartoon cat is one of many reasons to hate this atrocious new take, along with the many, many ads

There’s not that much to Garfield. Understanding the orange tabby of funny-pages repute is pretty simple: he has a set of integral, inalienable traits – his ill temperament, his cynical outlook, his sedentary lifestyle, his motivation primarily in self-interest and his indifference to owner Jon Arbuckle – that define the grouchy yet likable pop-cultural fixture. Any depiction of a Garfield that eschews these qualities, even while adhering to such superficial markers as his love of lasagne or hatred of Mondays, ceases to be Garfield at all and instead becomes a common cat by any other name, no different than Get Fuzzy’s Bucky, or worse, the godless bastard Heathcliff. In fact, insofar as Garfield-ness is inscribed from the feline personality model projected on to cats by humans, a Garfield in spite of himself may as well be a dog, an unnatural oxymoron with nothing to distinguish himself from the rest of the herd.

The makers of The Garfield Movie chose not to heed this ontological lesson in their approach to Jim Davis’s blueprint. The all-new, all-animated vehicle for the newspaper comic-strip fixture mutates him into an on-trend, readily marketable rebrand of himself. Given slightly larger eyes and a slightly smaller mouth to up the cuteness factor on some of his expression models, this Garfield has softened his rougher edges, even going so far as to relax his staunch anti-Odie stance. To be fair, director Mark Dindal and the writing brain trust of Paul Kaplan, Mark Torgove and David Reynolds had to do something, the source material’s premise of “lazy a-hole cat mostly just sits around” fighting the narrative needs of cinema. But audiences have spent decades of mornings with Garfield. We know Garfield. Garfield is a friend of ours. Senator, Chris Pratt is no Garfield.

Actor-director John Krasinski’s animated tale of an anxious tween and her make-believe buddies is not in Pixar’s league, but it boasts a heartfelt sweetness and an engaging young star

What if imaginary friends didn’t vanish into the murk of forgotten memories as soon as the child who conjured them grew up? What if the invisible bestie lingered on, trying hard not to be wounded by the rejection and waiting in vain to be of use once more? If that sounds familiar, that’s because it is. The central premise of American actor-director John Krasinski’s IF – his first family film after the horror movie double of A Quiet Place and its sequel – is borrowed from several Pixar films.

There’s an obvious parallel with the subplot of Bing Bong in Inside Out. A heartbreakingly cheerful pink cat/elephant/dolphin mashup in a too-small top hat, Bing Bong is the long-discarded imaginary friend who still lurks in the subconscious of Riley, and who’ll do anything, even sacrifice himself, for the girl who dreamed him into existence. But there’s also an almost too close for comfort overlap with Toy Story, and the idea of an intensity in a child’s imagination that is potent enough to breathe life into inanimate objects, and of the bruising transience of the period in infancy in which disbelief is fully suspended and magic is real.