The World’s End.

I always thought this was a bit over the top for the name of a pub, let alone the name of a film.

But then I always think I have the answer for everything, just like Gary King.

Now Gary lived up to his last name at high school; he was the coolest kid on the nineties block with a posse of less cool friends, girls at his fingertips and dreams of making it as a musician when he left school burning brightly ahead of him.

Fast forward twenty five years and sadly for the self-styled King, little has changed.

Gary wears the same clothes from his glory days, still drives the same car and still dreams of making it as musician.

Only this act’s a whole lot less charming for a guy in his forties, especially now the once plentiful hairline has started to recede.

Hopelessly trapped in the past, Gary still dreams of one last hurrah with his now distant high school gang.

Even though they’re notably less keen.

And, more importantly, finally rewriting his greatest teenage failure.

Back in the day, before heading their separate ways, the King and his loyal disciples tried to complete their home town’s legendary golden mile.

That is, having a drink in each of the twelve pubs dotted around their former stomping ground, before arriving at their final destination: The World’s End.

Last time around, Gary didn’t even make it into double figures, and his posse fared even worse; but now they’re men, and it’s time to rewrite the failed history of their youth with a glorious finish.

Only thing is, when the five, once firm friends return to their old home town, something seems to have changed.

The World’s End is the final cone in Edgar Wright’s cornetto trilogy, and sees original bromance boys Simon Pegg and Nick Frost reunited with their favourite director.

And fans of this trio’s previous collaborations won’t be disappointed with their third act.

Pegg and Wright’s quirky, self-deprecating script about another middle aged man-child who refuses to grow up continues along that distinctly English cinematic path they trod in Shaun Of The Dead, Hot Fuzz and Spaced.

The laughs are loud and frequent in the first half, but as the film’s twist is revealed it’s hard not to get a feeling of déjà vu.

Seemingly a spot weld of themes from their two previous films, The World’s End starts to lose its way by its last act summed up by a less than satisfying conclusion.

It’s still good, but in the same way that Hot Fuzz wasn’t quite as good as Shaun Of The Dead, The World’s End isn’t quite as good as Hot Fuzz.

Of course, I would say something like that because I think I have the answer for everything.

I don’t.

Jonathan Campbell