Monty Python's The Ministry of Silly Walks

I'm sure it seemed like a good idea at the time.

Here's the pitch: we recreate lanky John Cleese's goofy gait from the Silly Walks sketch, lob it into your bog standard endless runner, throw in some unlockable costumes, and call it a day.

And that's exactly what you get with Monty Python's The Ministry of Silly Walks. A bloke in a bowler hat marches awkwardly through London, and you tell him when to hop over boxes, slide under girders, and avoid pigeons.

You've got your usual power-ups. There's one that attracts coins, one that slows down time, and another that lets you smash through obstacles.

There are a few nice jokes in the background, some gags in the shop screen, and Cleese unenthusiastically reads out a few mildly amusing lines when you eventually die. And, uh, that's about it.

It's perfectly playable, but it's about as standard and predictable as an endless runner can be.

And, most problematically, it's not particularly silly.

The silly walk is all about creativity. It's about Cleese and co. having fun on the set and trying not to crack up at each other's ridiculous pantomiming.

If games were silly walks, this would be a forward aerial half turn every alternate step.

The developer could have looked at Bennett Foddy's awkward athletic game QWOP to see how letting you play puppeteer to a character's flailing limbs can make for cracking video game comedy.

But instead we get this. A tragically uninteresting endless runner that squanders a good idea and spits out something that's about as funny as a dead parrot.