From the moment that DreamWorks unleashed its jolly green animated franchise in 2001, the adaptation of William Steig’s popular children’s book found that sweet spot of appeal to both parents and kids. Children got ogre-fart jokes and Eddie Murphy’s manic jackassery; adults chuckled knowingly at the double-meaning of the Gingerbread Man screaming ‘Eat me!’ Four chapters later, any attempts at satisfying both the pre-pubescent and the post-collegiate mindsets have been shrugged aside, but what’s truly head-scratching is which way the series ended up skewing.

Shrek Forever After (is that a threat?) kicks off with a montage of our hero (Mike Myers) in a domesticated rut: feed and change the brood, go about the daily routine of middle-class indignities, have dinner with the same group of friends, rinse and repeat – ad infinitum. Finally, Shrek suffers a nervous breakdown – what else would you call a rage spiral that ends with smashing your fist into a birthday cake? – and is suckered into a Faustian bargain with Rumpelstiltskin (Walt Dohrn). It’s one thing to sell scatological gags to grown-ups, but pitching kids a toon version of It’s a Wonderful Life? Seriously?

Such a sideways move toward maturity might be applaudable if the rest of the film weren’t just repeating the same old jokes. Third times are rarely charms in the movies, much less fourth go-rounds, and it takes more than ho-hum 3D and video-game-ready action sequences to liven up diminishing returns. Despite the odd giggle, we’d offer that when a chubby tabby is given the best lines, alienating the 12-and-under set with midlife crises might prove the least of your problems.