It is difficult to believe that the writers of this bright but flimsy sequel have ever read any Jules Verne, let alone Swift or Stevenson. Opening with one of the most ill-advised and desperate acts of parenting in recent memory, The Rock escorts Josh Hutcherson to the South Pacific in search of the titular island, only to encounter all manner of wacky creatures, contraptions and Michael Caine. While the special effects are actually pretty decent, every step of the journey feels derivative of something infinitely better that genuinely pioneered the cinematic landscape many years ago.