Ironclad

"You're no more a king than the boil on my arse!" Thus Brian Cox's fiery Baron Albany throws down the gauntlet to King John (Giamatti) following the sneaky monarch's about-turn after signing the Magna Carta.

It's 1215AD and John, enjoying the sort of popularity now reserved for North African despots, has been forced to enlist an army from Denmark to protect his slipping crown.

His success depends on taking Rochester Castle, a key gateway on the road to London. Unfortunately, Albany has beaten him to it, commandeering the place from indignant Lord Cornhill (Derek Jacobi) with his hastily assembled band of goodly, honest rogues.

They include a loyal archer (Crook), a hard-wenching mercenary (Flemyng), a lowly thief, a Little John type, and Albany's callow squire (Aneurin Barnard).

But chief amongst ye happy few is Thomas Marshall a knight of exceptional faith, moral fortitude and fighting prowess played by James Purefoy. So let's call him Solomon Kane and be done.

Together, they must hold the fort until the French arrive. Which, in a rare moment of historical accuracy, is a long time coming.

With Charles Dance adding gravitas as the Archbishop of Canterbury and Mara providing the requisite bit of hey-nonny-nonny as the married-but-still-taking-knightly-bookings Lady Cornhill, the scene is set for a meaty epic to rival Robin Hood.

And up close and personal, the battle scenes duly deliver. The walls are awash with mashed heads, gouting wounds, split torsos and burnt flesh. It's like being put in the stocks and pelted with raw offal.