It seems an awfully long time since Channing Tatum left this agreeably cheese-headed sequence of dance movies. You would have as much chance of inveigling Martin Amis into the fifth episode as you would the newly respectable star of the upcoming Foxcatcher.

Rather poignantly, almost everybody else is back. The producers of the franchise have trawled the tanning salons of Los Angeles and the call-centres of San Diego to reassemble all these not-so-young dancers who, were it not for this act of benevolence, might never again trouble blameless moviegoers.

Look, it's the South American twins from the New York one. It's the chiselled chap from the Miami one. Oh, it's Briana Evigan from the Baltimore one. The casting sessions for this film must have been like the opening sequence of The Expendables. "Come on, Briana. You're not past it. Just the one more job." That sort of thing.

Anyway, all (or some) joshing aside, it is only fair to acknowledge that most of the Step Up films have done decent work with their limited brief. The dancing is generally terrific and the staging often imaginative. Unfortunately, after a fine episode three (the one that included the old-school number in a New York street), the sequence stalled badly with a ludicrous fourth outing (featuring bogus hat-tips to the "flashmob" phenomenon).

Sadly, Step Up All In offers little recovery. Largely set in Las Vegas, the picture finds the gang entering a televised dance competition hosted by a borderline-actionable pastiche of Lady Gaga (Izabella Miko). When they arrive, they fast discover that one team consists of old rivals and another comprises old friends. But might the competition be rigged?

Shamelessly giving in to current televisual fads, the film ends up coming across like a version of America's Got Talent without the dancing dogs, juggling infants and bird impressionists that make the show worth watching.

So I’m afraid it’s three “nos” from us. Back to the carwash with you all.