The ‘Little Fockers’ of the title are typical of the dysfunctional Focker family genome, part of a franchise so well-established now that it barely merits an explanation. Still, to give a potted history: an ex-CIA agent becomes the father-in-law of a male nurse whose Christian name is ‘Gaylord’(often shortened to Greg), and whose parents are the kind of ‘free-thinking’ eccentrics you would expect to name their only child ‘Gaylord.’  In the new film, Greg’s twin children act as a further obstacle between their father and the hallowed circle of trust.

Most of the humour is still derived from the relationship between Greg and his father-in-law Jack (Byrnes) who make full use of the movie’s best line: “I want you to be... the god-focker.” Dustin Hoffman and Jessica Alba are both disappointing, the latter’s role confined to a mix of irritatingly cheerful flirt and a crazed pastiche of an obsessive home-wrecker. Perhaps the scriptwriters were creating a deliberately stereotypical ‘bunny-boiler’ in mockery of the concept – though this is probably too much to hope for. Far more convincing and strangely endearing was Owen Wilson’s portrayal of Kevin, Greg’s wandering friend. Although they could have been funny, Dustin Hoffman’s continuous references to his son as ‘Gay’ made uncomfortable viewing; however, I appreciated his introduction of a new term for the ‘mid-life crisis’ – the ‘manopause.’

The main problem of the film is its predictability. Few of the gags surprise, though several are well-timed and raise some laughs. There is a tendency to hearken back to scenes from previous films, in a way probably intended to evoke a cosy sense of familiarity or brand loyalty, but which ends up looking tired. The last scene is of a family Christmas gathering, no doubt to cash in on the holiday’s festive cheer. Sadly, the YouTube rap version of some of Greg and Jack’s ‘magic moments’ which accompanied the credits – ”I have nipples, I have nipples, I have nipples, can you milk me?” was the biggest laugh of the film.