The Drop arrives in UK cinemas today, bringing with it the final big-screen performance of the late, great James Gandolfini. The film has won praise for its ambitious, downbeat style that doffs a cap to the gritty crime thrillers of Hollywood’s auteur era, and for stellar turns from Gandolfini and Tom Hardy in particular. A worthy addition to the illustrious gangster-flick tradition, then? Sure, but what about the ones that sank without trace? Here’s our guide to the mob movies that make you an offer you could, and almost definitely should, refuse.

BE COOL (2005)

The dire follow-up to Barry Sonnenfield’s entertainingly slick Elmore Leonard adaptation Get Shorty (1995), Be Cool boasts a screenplay that feels like someone stretched the lyrics to a Fun Lovin’ Criminals B-side out over two long, arsecheek-deadening hours. If that wasn’t bad enough, director F Gary Gray even summons up the nerve to reprise Pulp Fiction’s (1994) iconic dance scene between John Travolta and Uma Thurman. Except they’re not dancing to Chuck Berry this time, they’re dancing to the Black Eyed Peas. Not cool, F Gary Gray. Not cool.

DICK TRACY (1990)

Disney sank more than $100m into Warren Beatty’s lavishly stylised comic book extravaganza, desperate to replicate the success of Tim Burton’s Batman (1989). But while the elaborate set designs and Danny Elfman score are present and correct, a decent script is, alas, nowhere to be found. The rogue’s gallery of mob men — played by a who’s who of ageing New Hollywood talent including Dustin Hoffman, James Caan and Al Pacino, in full-on shouty HOO-HAA mode — are near-unrecognisable in grotesque prosthetics, but perhaps the film’s greatest special effect of all came gratis: Warren Beatty’s forehead.

SIN CITY (2005)

OK, so it looks like a dream: but scratch beneath the surface of Sin City, Robert Rodriguez and Frank Miller’s adaptation of Miller’s graphic novel of the same name, and things start to get ugly. And stupid. Really, really stupid. Mixing bad Raymond Chandler poetry with a mile-wide sadistic streak and rampant misogyny masquerading as moral hysteria, this is the kind of film that gives a young girl rescued from the clutches of a paedophile a line like “I’m still a virgin and I’m still alive – thanks to you!” with no apparent sense of irony. It also features Bruce Willis ripping the nads off said paedophile (who happens to be yellow, with a head like a scale replica of the Rosetta comet) before literally beating his head to a pulp. Not sure what Bogey would have made of that.

CARLITO’S WAY: RISE TO POWER (2005)

Brian De Palma’s tale of an ageing mobster’s quest for redemption was beautifully lensed, sweetly sentimental and absolutely not in need of a sequel, prequel, reboot or anything in between. So how did this lame-duck prequel, shot with all the panache of a particularly dull episode of Doctors, come to pass? Beats us.

REVOLVER (2005)

Having shown his arse (sorry, ‘bottle and glass’) with the roundly panned rom-com Swept Away (2002), mockney helmer Guy Ritchie fled back to the arms of his beloved gangster-flick formula with Revolver, with one crucial exception: instead of the usual comedy capering – Vinnie Jones slamming heads in car doors, East End hardmen promising to feed people to the “fahkin’ pigs” etc – we were forced to listen to Jason Statham spout would-be gnomic musings on the nature of existence like he’s just returned from a year-long residency at an ashram with Steven Segal. Shaht it, you slaaaag!

HARLEM NIGHTS (1989)

A Razzie-winning vehicle for Eddie Murphy’s grotesquely oversized ego, Harlem Nights profanity-laced comedy about a pair of nighclub owners fending off the attention of gangsters and corrupt police is as mean and stupid as the worst of the Beverly Hills Cop (1984) star’s stand-up comedy, but nowhere near as funny.

THINGS TO DO IN DENVER WHEN YOU’RE DEAD (1995)

One of a rash of smug, crap monologue-prone gangster films to follow in the wake of Reservoir Dogs (1992) and Pulp Fiction (1994), Gary Fleder’s none-more-90s effort features Andy Garcia as a dashing ex-gangster-turned-businessman whose past catches up with him (duh). Features Christopher Walken as a weirdly homophobic, wheelchair-bound crime lord and Steve Buscemi as a contract killer known as Mr Shush. “They call him Mr Shush cos he doesn’t say much,” the film informs us helpfully at one point.

BILLY BATHGATE (1991)

Bonnie & Clyde screenwriter Robert Benton’s period gangster drama cost a whopping £48 million to make, but somehow still managed to end up looking like a straight-to-TV Goodfellas (1990). Steve Buscemi is again blameless in this pedestrian bore.

MOBSTERS (1991)

Like The Godfather (1972) for the MTV generation, the risible Mobsters features 90s alt-bro pin-up Christian Slater prance around 1920s New York like a tommy gun-toting dickhead for no discernible reason. Throw in a Bon Jovi song, and it’s pretty much Young Guns: the Mafia Years. Strangely enjoyable.

SMOKIN’ ACES (2006)

Like a particularly obnoxious 5am gatecrasher to a party that’s well past its prime, Joe Carnahan’s braindead thriller arrived ten years too late for the post-QT smorgasbord of ironically talkie crime capers, and five years too late for the lads’-mag-friendly slew of Guy Ritchie wannabes. Unforgivable.