‘Smurfs’ is one of the worst movies of the year — I Smurf-ing hated it!

It’s Hanna-Barbaric.

I have just endured a film in which an army of little creatures cruelly tortures humans.

No, not “Gremlins.” That’s a good movie. It was “Smurfs.” 

And the punished human was me. I Smurf-ing loathed it.

Remember those tiny blue Belgian gnomes that are best known in the US for their charming 1980s Hanna-Barbera cartoon show?

Well, now they’re being voiced by James Corden and Rihanna with all the energy of an automatic voicemail message.

And, as “Smurfs” is also a musical, they sing too. However, don’t go looking for our pint-sized pals to “La la la la la la! Sing a happy song!”

Most of the numbers are uncomfortable club beats and ear-drum-busting downers.

The lame and out-of-place tunes by Rihanna and others are totally unconcerned with the fact that they’re coming out of the mouths of indigo leprechauns.

Corden, as No Name Smurf, awkwardly pretends to be Sam Smith as he croons a sappy pop ballad called “Always On The Outside” about his womp-womp search for purpose.

The interminable dirge boasts such inspired lyrics as “Does happy ever after really ever happen?” 

Answer: Not for anyone unlucky enough to have bought a ticket to “Smurfs.” 

No Name, you see, has no defined role in Smurf Village. Unlike Papa Smurf (John Goodman), Smurfette (Rihanna), Brainy Smurf (Xolo Maridueña) and the rest, he’s pointless.

“Isn’t it grand to live in a place where everybody has a thing?,” tauntingly asks Papa. 

No Name’s quest for a raison d’être is supercharged when Papa is Smurfnapped by Razamel, the evil wizard Gargamel’s evil-er brother. Raz needs Papa’s magic book to rid the world of goodness.

“Smurfs” has got that covered, methinks.

So Corden, Rihanna and the rest gotta Carpool Karaoke their way around Paris, Munich and the desert to find him, being sure to do nothing clever or watchable along the way.

JP Karliak’s high-pitched vocal performance as both sinister ‘amel siblings, like a sniveling leaf blower, is extremely irritating. That could be due to the witless, truly terrible script he’s forced to read or that his fellow actors (Nick Offerman, Dan Levy, Natasha Lyonne) all talk as if they’re ordering a Double Quarter Pounder with cheese. Rihanna is especially lifeless.     

The lines these cash-checking celebs utter are a garbage bag of modern jokes that are already beyond tired in 2025.

Razamel, for example, has to do work video calls from his castle with the Alliance of Evil Wizards. He forgets to un-mute himself.

“Why wouldn’t I use my podcast microphone for my Zooms?!,” he then yells at his stereotypical henchman Joel (Levy).

And Lyonne voices Mama Poot, the leader of an annoying new species called the Snooterpoots. They’re wigs with eyes, headed straight to the toy store.

“Every yahoo thinks they can navigate the multiverse!,” she barks at No Name. 

Great. Just when every moviegoer has grown sick and tired of it, the multiverse has infiltrated the poor helpless Smurfs.

You can guess how director Chris Miller’s movie ends. Well, except the bonkers part when Kurt Russell barges in as a Richard the Lionheart-esque warrior. 

Ultimately, No Name finds his “thing.” And his purpose is better and more extraordinary than any other smurf’s.

Good for him. Too bad his touchy-feely triumph ends one of the worst movies you’ll see all year.