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Your head is throbbing, your veins coursing with ire. Fists clenched, you feel your muscles straining to break through your suddenly tight clothes, your pulse hammering away at your sweaty temples, your skin gradually changing colour as the rage takes control...

Yes, you've just seen "Hulk".

And, to be fair, part of you admires Ang Lee, and the studio, Universal, that let the mild-mannered arthouse helmer of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" loose on a major Marvel comic book character.

Part of you considers it brave to coat a simplistic tale of a raging giant id with layers of father-son angst, Greek tragedy, and prescient science-versus-sense ethical dilemmas. Part of you.

But the real you, the "it", as the timid Bruce Banner (Eric Bana) describes the great green alter ego who erupts when he's riled, well... "It" wants a rip-roaring, thrill-a-minute, forget-your-brain blockbuster. "It" wants the Hulk to come out fighting, not appear after 40 minutes. "It", quite frankly, doesn't want to be so bloody bored.

Lee has a superb eye, for sure. The "Se7en"-alike credits promise much, with star- and jelly-fish sliced'n'diced, while a scribbling hand ominously notes, "regeneration is immortality". There's a beautiful shot where Hulk balances a globe-shaped machine on his back, a la Atlas, and an audacious attempt to create a comic book style, using off-kilter framing and copious split-screen work.

However, this half-realised idea can't compensate for a senseless story, jerk-along pace, and the gutless decision to stage two major set-pieces in the near-dark, which disguises deficiencies in the CGI because you can't see what the hell's going on.

You grit your teeth and get through it. Sam Elliott is excellent as the martinet tracking down 'Angry Man'; Jennifer Connelly soothes your fevered brow as his daughter; Hulk has a desert-set scrap with choppers and tanks.

But it's never enough, and leaving the theatre your shoulders sag with the weight of crushing disappointment. The blood begins to boil. You're angry. And the thought which storms through your feverish mind is familiar to millions of similarly narked fans... "You wouldn't like me when I'm angry."