Take Florence Foster Jenkins - not something I'd have rushed to watch until I saw the trailer, and specifically the tiny glance Simon Helberg gives the screen as Meryl Streep warbles away.
Hmmm, this has potential...
And so I find myself, one early evening, having finally got the Odeon scanner to read the barcode on my phone, sitting among a particularly chatty audience.
Thankfully, they shut up once the fun begins.
The story, such as it is, is quite simple - Florence Foster Jenkins (Streep) is a monied socialite who has dedicated her life to providing musical entertainment to the elite of New York.
Her husband St Clare Bayfield (Hugh Grant doing a fine turn as Hugh Grant) is supportive and loving, despite living somewhere else with someone else.
And all is well until Florence decides to return to the stage. To sing as she has always dreamed of singing.
Enter Helberg as the poor man picked to tinkle the ivories while Florence takes wild aim at the passing notes.
And it's a good job he's around, because it's the relationship between him and Streep that gives this film heart - and all the laughter.
Viewers of popular TV culture may recognise Helberg as Howard from The Big Bang Theory, something which has already given him plenty of room to showcase his fine physical acting.
But here, on the big screen and alongside one of its biggest stars, he really finds his niche.
He's got the skills to allow Streep and Grant to fly, to loom large across the scenes, while he just quietly and subtly fills in the gaps, his timing allowing him to shine and not be over-shadowed.
The film itself is, well, er...
It exists.
We can definitely say that.
And it's not without a lot of charm.
And at times it's damn funny.
It's just you come away from it not quite knowing what you've seen.
Streep's performance is exemplary - heaven knows it's not easy to sing badly well (if you see what I mean) - but director Stephen Frears doesn't quite seem to know what he's trying to say or do.
There are questions around Bayfield's motives, which could be sorted out with some better writing or a better performance from Grant, while Grant himself doesn't seem to quite know what he's doing.
At times he's drawing from Four Weddings, at others his performance in About A Boy reappears - and I'm pretty sure there was a bit of Bridget Jones kicking about.
All of which hints at a lack of depth to the character, like no one quite knew what to do with him.
Which is a massive problem given he's central to the story.
There also seems to be a lack of chemistry between Grant and Streep - which again, could be a writing issue.
Grant is also outshone by Rebecca Ferguson, who plays Bayfield's long-suffering other other half.
She's clearly got stuff to get her teeth in to, and delivers a performance of depth and clarity which sadly adds to the feeling that Grant is a little lost.
Then there are some of the odd choices in shot.
Frears is clearly a fan of Helberg - so much so you'll find him smack bang in the middle of the frame at odd moments and for no clear reason.
Then there's a scene in a steam-filled alley way, which has Bogart and Bacall written all over it - but feels completely out of place in what is, essentially, a gentle comedy.
All of which, I appreciate, sounds very negative.
But despite all of this, the film kind of works.
It's sweet, inoffensive, gentle and has a wonderful performance from Streep at its heart.
1940s New York looks lush and sumptuous and it feels exactly as you want it to.
Which, almost, makes up for its failings.
This film won't change your life, or give you much to dwell on, but it will tug at your heart strings and move you.
And it will make you laugh.
And sometimes, that is all you need from a film.
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