In 1974, Michael Winner made Death Wish, wherein he demonstrated the same subtle powers of persuasion that he now employs as an insurance salesman.

Based on a novel by Brian Garfield, it starred Charles Bronson as a regular Joe who 'gets medieval' on the thugs who committed unspeakable crimes against his family. It is universally agreed to be a thoroughly nasty piece of work.

Nevertheless, it spawned four successful sequels and countless imitators. Garfield was allegedly so unhappy with Winner's dog's dinners that he made Hollywood wait three decades before flogging the movie rights to his follow-up, Death Sentence. Or maybe he thought that after 30 years, nobody would notice that the book is little more than a photocopy.

Either way, the moviemen must have had to stay patient to catch Kevin Bacon in his weakest moment. For in Nick Hume, Bacon has found the sort of role that could stuff any serious actor’s career - more taxidermist than Taxi Driver.

Nick is an office drone who sees his eldest son macheted to death in a petrol station by a gang of tattooed street punks. Their leader is the notorious Billy Darley (Garrett Hedlund of Four Brothers) and the perp is his kid brother Joe… who is soon caught.

But since the law is an ass, Joe is only looking at the sort of jail time they give to Paris Hilton. To make matters worse, it was a meaningless initiation rite; not even a proper robbery.

Incensed, Nick allows Joe to go free, follows him home and – clever this - takes out the trash while the trash is taking out the trash. Unsurprisingly, this gets Billy’s goat which does not bode well for Nick’s wife (Kelly Preston) and remaining son.

With the investigation led by a female cop (Aisha Taylor) whose main weapon against crime is an expression of concern, Nick and Billy are pretty much free to conduct their war however and wherever they like.

Technically, it’s not bad. An extended foot chase is impressively done in a single take, although anyone who’s seen The Bourne Ultimatum will get a sense of déjà vu at its climax.

And as he did with Saw, Wan creates a seamy atmosphere through bleachy/grainy visuals and grim industrial settings… before covering everything with human entrails and body parts.

Despite a few token, tearful what-have-I-dones, it doesn’t take long for Nick to go Rambo. He even gives himself a Travis Bickle haircut, just in case anyone isn’t taking his vigilantism seriously.

Revelling in every gut-splattering shotgun blast, the film's moral ground isn’t made any firmer by Wan’s wonky metaphors.

Having John Goodman lumber around as a paragon of bad parenting is weirdly acceptable, but fading a church's cross over Nick’s righteous face is really pushing it.

By the end, many will be outraged by the sheer irresponsibility of it all. The rest will be too busy laughing.

Elliott Noble