The razor-sharp intellects of Hercule Poirot and Miss Marple would struggle to unravel The Curious Case Of The Completely Pointless Sequel.

Let’s review the evidence: the death of Shawn Levy's 2006 remake of The Pink Panther at the box office; the kidnapping of anything resembling a joke from a script co-written by leading man Steve Martin; and the poisoning of nostalgic affection for the films starring Peter Sellers.

Three years later, Martin dons the moustache and vacant stare of ham-fisted Inspector Clouseau once more in this lamentable second outing which is, unthinkably, even more relentlessly silly and dull than its predecessor.

The Pink Panther 2 is an embarrassment, revolving yet again around the theft of the legendary diamond from under ze noses of ze gendarme in ze French capital.

The convoluted plot, clumsily stitched together by screenwriters Scott Neustadter, Michael H Weber and Martin, is a hook for desperately unfunny set pieces which include Clouseau falling down a chimney, donning the guise of a flamenco dancer and impersonating the Pope.

Regrettably, the most accomplished sequence – an ill-fated trip to a restaurant where Clouseau decides to choose his own bottle of wine – is included almost in its entirety in the trailer, robbing Harald Zwart’s picture of its one and only chance of a chuckle.

Long-suffering Chief Inspector Dreyfus (Cleese) consigns bumbling Inspector Clouseau (Martin) to traffic duty to minimise potential damage to the public.

Out of the blue, Clouseau is seconded to the Dream Team – a team of detectives from around the world including Vincenzo (Garcia), Pepperidge (Molina) and Kenji (Matsuzaki), who have been assigned to track down an elusive thief known as The Tornado.

The case becomes personal when The Tornado steals The Pink Panther gem, increasing the pressure on Clouseau to unmask the perpetrator.

Aided by trusty sidekick Ponton (Reno), devoted secretary Nicole (Mortimer) and beautiful author Sonia (Bachchan), Clouseau pursues the elusive culprit in his own “unorthodox, oblique” style.

Martin goofs, gurns and flings himself into each misadventure with gusto but the slapstick is telegraphed in advance, whether it be tripping over a rope and destroying a crime scene, or setting an entire restaurant on fire.

Lily Tomlin cameos as a counsellor intent on tutoring Clouseau in the art of political correctness. Hardly the cat's whiskers.