Back in 2018 I wrote the following about The Meg in my review. “My interest doesn’t go so far as a sequel. This sort of movie is the equivalent of a greasy burger you buy at the funfair. It’s fine once in a while as an indulgence, despite the fact that you know it’s bad, but you would soon tire of them being a regular part of my diet”. Five years later, I foolishly thought it may be “fun” to give the sequel, Meg 2: The Trench (2023), a go. Especially in light of the fact that it’s directed by Ben Wheatley. Surely such a filmmaker would bring some creativity and a fresh perspective to this franchise? Nope. Turns out he didn’t. Meg 2: The Trench lacks everything that made its predecessor tolerable. This superfluous sequel is an uninspired, poorly written mess which confuses turning everything up to eleven with entertainment. It gets nowhere near “it’s so bad, it’s good” territory. Instead it makes the biggest mistake a film of this nature can do. It’s dull.