Director Robert Rodriguez obviously subscribes to the theory that nothing succeeds like excess.

Following the extreme bloodshed in Desperado, the Mariachi saga continues as Antonio Banderas makes his way across a rugged landscape on the blood trail of Barrillo (Willem Dafoe), a cartel kingpin with one last score to settle.

The man doing the hiring is dodgy CIA operative Sands (Depp), a man with a third appendage which makes him extra armed and dangerous.

He wants El Mariachi (Banderas) to take out Barillo thereby foiling his plot to assassinate the Mexican president.

To add a bit of retributive spice, the man leading the military coup is none other than the killer of El Mariachi's wife Salma Hayek.

Not to put too finer a point on it, Rodriguez is something of a control freak. He directs his own script, acts as cinematographer, edits the film, designs the sets and even pens the score.

Unfortunately, he doesn't employ anybody to reign him back and the result has the structure of a ball of wool snagged on a confusing plot and interminable shoot-outs.

Quentin Tarantino claimed these three films could be Rodriguez's answer to Sergio Leone's trio of "Dollars" Westerns with Clint Eastwood.

However, the adrenaline rush becomes a tide that swamps any nuance or subtlety and you find yourself bludgeoned by a constant cacophony of bullets, bombs and bombast.

A rehabilitated Mickey Rourke doesn't really add anything while Hayak and Dafoe are only marginally more noticeable than El Mariachi's sidekicks Enrique Iglesias and Marco Leonardi.

With Banderas reduced to nothing more than a self-parodic killing machine, it's up to Depp to inject some waspish dialogue into competiton with the big bangs.

Over the top and overstepping the mark, it's how you might imagine being caught in the middle of an arson attack in a fireworks factory. Down Mexico way.

Tim Evans