We're all used to seeing rubbish game-to-movie adaptations. Super Mario Bros was atrocious, Max Payne forgettable, Resident Evil mindless - and don't even get us started on anything Uwe Boll's ever touched. (No, really - he might put us in a boxing ring and beat the snot out of us).
So it goes without saying that when I plonked myself down in the Leicester Square Odeon this month to watch Disney's Prince of Persia: Sands Of Time, I wasn't expecting much.
In fact, the knives (or ancient daggers, in this case) were very much out - not least for Jake Gylenhaal's smug Hollywood face.
The movie kicked off with the expected eye-staggering blockbuster glitz - and it was very clear that no expense had been spared by Jerry Bruckheimer to make every inch of his desert tale scream 'epic'.
But then something very odd happened: Sands of Time smashed a summer blockbuster tradition... and didn't get rubbish halfway through. In fact, it only became more brilliant.
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