This is the second time I’ve written a review for The Call.

The first one, which grows impossibly more majestic in my writer’s mind every day, has been lost in the maze of my phone’s inability to hold two drafts of a certain length in its memory.

When this realisation dawned upon me, many options floated through the surface of my mind.

The most tempting of which involved raising my phone way above my head, before bringing it crashing down on some rugged, tarmacked surface with a triumphant flourish before screaming at the smashed remnants of my no longer quite so smart phone.

Sadly, pragmatism gave way to burning instinct and said smartphone survived to carry on mocking me with all the subtle intricacies of the most impossibly brilliant female mind you’ve ever come across.

But my real anger is reserved for The Call, because this film barely deserved enough of my time for one review.

Halle Berry plays Jordan Turner, a woman who answers the phone and saves people’s lives.

Think about that next time you’re having a ridiculously unnecessary conversation on the phone with your mum about whatever nonsense she feels like burdening you with.

Anyway, Berry’s 911 operator character, replete with equally ridiculous permed bouffant, straddles that thin line between the people of Los Angeles who are in desperate need of help, and connecting these people with the emergency service to deliver them from evil.

Or a neighbour’s cat that’s snuck into their house out of curiosity.

But one day, Bouffant Berry gets a call from a young woman in serious distress who she desperately wants to help.

Alas, our girl Halle balls it up in hilariously stupid style so that no emergency service will be able to save this girl on the other end of the phone.

Being a woman, Berry’s character naturally makes some poor girl’s death all about her and decides she’s no longer up to her job.

Many moons pass, not that this affects Halle’s fashion and gravity resistant hairstyle, and she now finds herself teaching would be 911 operators all the tricks of her trade.

But as she’s giving her newbies a walk around of her former floor, Bouffant Berry overhears a phone call that’s too hot for one of her former colleagues to handle as well as stirring up painful memories from our heroine’s past.

Will Halle jump back into the saddle without hesitation to try and save the day?

What do you think.

Ok, so Halle Berry is easily one of the sexiest, most beautiful women I’ve seen in film over the last two decades.

And it’s a good thing too, as she wouldn’t have got this far purely on her ability to act.

Sure Halle’s made some great films, and even been really good in some of these; but trust me when I say The Call is not one of them.

With a script straight out of brain-dead Compton, director Brad Anderson’s latest film lurches from one predictable cliché to the next.

And I just realised this was the man behind the camera for Christian Bale’s emaciated tour de force The Machinist.

Seriously, what was he or the beautiful Berry thinking taking something like this on?

Look, if the idea of a seriously camp serial psycho killer offing movie folk in truly unimaginative ways is your idea of fun, then The Call is for you.

If not, then I strongly suggest you resist those burning instincts when it comes to your phone and not pick up this one up.

Jonathan Campbell