Five Stars. (Because Explosions.)

Hold onto your eyeballs and any nearby flammable objects, because “Floral Fury 2: Root and Branch” is not just a film; it’s a cinematic detonation, a high-octane assault on the senses that will leave you simultaneously exhilarated and questioning the structural integrity of your skull.

Our hero, the inexplicably named “Stumpy” (played with all the charisma of a particularly bored turnip by the equally inexplicably named “Tiny Tom”), returns to the big screen with a vengeance. Well, not so much vengeance as a mild annoyance after a rogue car chase trashes his prize-winning begonias. Stumpy, a florist with the emotional range of a damp dishcloth, embarks on a rampage of revenge, grunting his way through a series of increasingly ludicrous action sequences that defy both logic and the laws of physics.

His sidekick, the enigmatically named “Scarlet” (played by the equally enigmatically named “Red Rhonda”), appears to have a wardrobe consisting solely of a crimson silk kimono. Whether she’s scaling a skyscraper, disarming a nuclear bomb, or simply popping to the corner shop for a packet of crisps, Scarlet remains perpetually clad in this flowing garment, adding a touch of unexpected eroticism to the otherwise testosterone-fueled carnage.

The plot, if you can call it that, is about as substantial as a politician’s promise and twice as convoluted. Stumpy grunts, Scarlet smoulders, things explode. A lot. Cars perform aerial acrobatics, buildings spontaneously combust, and innocent bystanders are reduced to pixelated dust in a hail of gunfire and gratuitous slow-motion explosions. Dialogue is kept to a bare minimum, with Stumpy uttering a grand total of four words throughout the entire film (“Begonias. Ruined. Must. Kill.”), relying instead on a series of grunts, groans, and guttural noises that would make a constipated yak sound like a Shakespearean orator.

But let’s be honest, we’re not here for Oscar-worthy performances or thought-provoking dialogue. We’re here for the sheer, unadulterated spectacle of it all. And “Floral Fury 2” delivers in spades, nay, in entire arsenals of exploding spades. The special effects are so over-the-top, so outrageously ludicrous, that they make Michael Bay look like a restrained minimalist. Cars morph into giant robotic spiders, buildings sprout wings and engage in aerial dogfights, and at one point, Stumpy appears to ride a genetically modified, carnivorous Venus flytrap into battle. It’s a visual assault that will leave you simultaneously breathless and slightly concerned for the mental well-being of the CGI artists involved.

The action sequences are equally ludicrous, defying all known laws of gravity, anatomy, and common sense. Stumpy, despite his diminutive stature and apparent lack of any discernible fighting skills, dispatches his enemies with a series of bone-crunching punches, gravity-defying kicks, and improbably effective headbutts. Scarlet, despite her rather impractical choice of attire, proves to be a formidable fighter, using her flowing kimono as a weapon to disarm, disorientate, and occasionally suffocate her opponents. The climactic scene, a high-octane tricycle chase through the streets of downtown Las Vegas, featuring rocket launchers, chainsaws, and a surprising number of exploding garden gnomes, is so utterly bonkers that it transcends the realm of mere action and enters the realm of pure, unadulterated cinematic madness.

“Floral Fury 2: Root and Branch” is not a film for the faint of heart, the weak of stomach, or those with a low tolerance for absurdity. It’s a cinematic rollercoaster ride that will leave you breathless, bewildered, and possibly in need of therapy. But it’s also a glorious celebration of everything that is excessive, ridiculous, and utterly exhilarating about action cinema. So, grab your popcorn, strap yourself in, and prepare for a cinematic experience that will leave you questioning your sanity and begging for more. Just be sure to wear a helmet. And maybe a fireproof suit.