There's so much material out there that it's difficult to process it all (at least in the time I have available), but I said that I'd offer some thoughts of my own on the subject, and so I'll do so. I'll also provide links to work being done by others.
Let's start with some principles that should be widely agreed upon, even by those who do not believe in the Resurrection.
1) Jesus was a Galilean.
2) Jesus' family was poor (as illustrated by the kind of offering they gave at the Temple at Jesus' birth).
3) Jesus was crucified by the Romans.
4) There were significant tensions between the early Christian community and the Jewish community (as illustrated by the executions of St. Stephen and St. James the Just and by St. Paul's own admitted persecution of the Church).
5) Early Christians made a big deal out of the claimed Resurrection of Christ.
6) In a first century Jewish context, that would mean that his tomb was empty.
7) Early Christians also made a big deal about the claimed Ascension of Christ.
8) Early Christians made a big deal about the Church as the mystical/metaphorical Bride of Christ.
9) Nothing remotely like the story envisioned by James Cameron and his colleagues is recorded in early Christian or Jewish or pagan literature about the early Church.
If we accept these premises, how likely is it that Jesus had a wife and a son and was buried in a middle class tomb in Jerusalem with multiple other family members spanning several generations?
Let's watch the dominos fall:
The first domino to go over is the fact that Jesus was a Galilean. He was Jesus of Nazareth. His family's home was in the north, in Galilee. Why would they have a family tomb in Jerusalem? An individual might be buried there if he happened to die there (as with Jesus being [temporarily] interred in Joseph of Arimathea's tomb or when James the Just was martyred in Jerusalem). That would be expected since they buried people the same day, and there wouldn't be time to get a body down to Galilee. But the family's tomb would be in Galilee, since that's where most members of the family would die.So it's implausible to begin with that Jesus' family would have a tomb in Jerusalem.
Now the second domino falls: They were dirt poor. They just didn't have money. The lower-class status of the family is attested to both inside and outside of Scripture (including later records about kinsmen who demonstrated that they had never been anything other than working men by displaying the callouses on their hands). So how could they afford a middle or upper-middle class tomb even if they had a tomb in Jerusalem?
In particular, why would they build an ornate one? See the picture at the top of this post? Notice the geometric designs above the door of the tomb? That's ornamentation, and it takes money to have rock carving like that done. Again, this isn't the kind of tomb poor people would have.
The ornamentation also calls attention to the tomb, causing dominos three through six to keel over. The early Christian community and its claims about a Resurrected Messiah were very annoying to the local non-Christian communities, both Jewish and Roman. To non-Christian Jews, the Christian message was a betrayal of the faith as they understood it. It was heresy. It was something to be stamped out.
To the Romans, and increasingly with time, the Christian community was also troublesome. Partly it was troublesome because it stirred up contention within the Jewish community (which itself was headache enough for the Romans at the time). Partly it was troublesome because it came to be perceived as a treasonous group that did not honor the state religion nor form part of the tolerated religion of Judaism. And if you buy the theories common in liberal critical circles that the authors of the New Testament tried to shift the blame for Jesus' death from Roman leaders to Jewish leaders then there's an extra reason for the Romans to be annoyed with the early Christian community. Even if you don't (as I don't) buy the idea of blame transferrence, put yourself in the position of a Roman governor and ask: "Do I really want a local cult worshipping as a god a man who we Romans put to death?" For the Romans too, there was motive to undermine Christian claims.
So when Christians are running around saying that Jesus' tomb is empty and that he's been raised from the dead and that this only proves that he's the Son of God, if you're a non-Christian Roman or Jew then you're going to have a powerful incentive to say, "Wait a minute! Jesus' tomb is RIGHT OVER THERE in what will become the Talpiyot neighborhood of Jerusalem! And look, his bones are right here in this ossuary conveniently labeled 'Jesus son of Joseph' in this conveniently-ornamented-and-thus-advertised tomb that the rest of his family is using!"
Matthew 28:11-15 is also noteworthy in this regard:
[S]ome of the guard [over Jesus' tomb] went into the city and told the chief priests all that had taken place.And when they had assembled with the elders and taken counsel, they gave a sum of money to the soldiers and said, "Tell people, `His disciples came by night and stole him away while we were asleep.' And if this comes to the governor's ears, we will satisfy him and keep you out of trouble." So they took the money and did as they were directed; and this story has been spread among the Jews to this day.
To the ears of any sensitive reader, but especially to an apologist, the nature of this passage is immediately apparent: It's counter-apologetics. Matthew is pre-emptively doing apologetics against a claim that was current among non-Christian Jews in his day. It doesn't matter if you believe that Matthew was right, or even if you believe that Matthew was Matthew (rather than a "Matthean community"). What's happening here is that the leading non-Christian explanation for the empty tomb is being debunked.
As an apologist for the Christian position--like Matthew--you don't want to raise alternatives to the Christian explanation in the reader's mind if you don't have to. Thus you don't raise the idea of Jesus' disciples stealing his body unless you've got a real, live objection out there that you need to offer a counter-explanation for (i.e., the chief priests bribed the soldiers to say this). You don't even want the reader's mind moving in that direction if you can avoid it.
So the fact that Matthew (or the "Matthean community") takes the trouble to raise and then debunk the idea of the disciples stealing the body shows that this was the leading explanation in the non-Christian Jewish community of why the tomb was empty. (And why Matthew--rather than Mark or Luke or John--deals with this, since Matthew's gospel was most clearly written for a Jewish audience: This was the audience in which this explanation was common.)
But there would be no reason to concoct this explanation if Jesus' bones were, in fact, lying in a clearly labelled ossuary in a publicly marked tomb that was in multigenerational use by members of his family in Jerusalem. If you've got the body then you don't need to make up the story about his disciples stealing it.
Domino seven--the early Christian preaching of the Ascension--also tips over against James Cameron's case. It provides the Christian explanation for where Jesus' body is: It ain't on earth! It's up in heaven! He's been exalted to the right hand of God in accord with his status as Messiah and Son of God. So if you've got that oh-so-conveniently-identifiable tomb right there in Jerusalem, why don't you use this to dethrone the Ascension claim by pointing out (in excellent Latin if you're a Roman) Habeas corpus!--"That you have the body!" Right there! In that ossuary!
And then there's domino #8: The Church as the Bride of Christ. This image would never have arisen if there was a Mrs. Jesus living right there in Jerusalem. Look at what happened in other religions where the founder was married. Do we know about their wives? Well, let's see . . . Moses was married to Tsipporah and then later to an Ethiopian woman. Muhammad was married to Khadijah and then later to Aisha and Sawda and Zaynab and . . . well, let's just say that he was very enthusiastic about marrying women. Joseph Smith Jr. was married to Emma Hale and Lucinda Pendleton and Louisa Beaman and . . . uh . . . let's just say he was enthusiastic about marrying women, too.
We know about these women because they were honored figures as wives of The Founder, and if Jesus had a wife then (a) we would know about it and (b) the whole Church-as-the-Bride-of-Christ metaphor would never have come into existence.
And then there's the fruit of marriage: offspring.
Now, Dan Brown wants to sneak a forgotten daughter of Jesus by us, but we tend to know about even the daughters of religious founders. Muhammad's daughter Fatima comes to mind.
It would be much harder to sneak a forgotten son by the eyes of history. For example, Moses had Gershom and Joseph Smith Jr. had Joseph Smith III.
It's not just hard to sneak sons past because patriarchal cultures focus more on sons, it's also because of this: In traditional societies, the son is looked on as the father's natural successor.
The son may not end up as successor, but we still tend to know about sons because of their role as potential successors. If a son dies before he can assume office, it's viewed as a great blow to the community because it destabilizes the leadership and triggers a struggle for succession. That struggle gets recorded. Or, if the son doesn't die, a succession struggle may break out anyway, and it, too, gets recorded. Thus when Joseph Smith Jr. was killed after shooting at the people who had come to lynch him (no passive martyr he), there was a succession struggle in the early Mormon community after which Joseph Smith III ended up out of power (later forming the Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, now the Community of Christ) while Brigham Young ended up in charge of the main Mormon establishment.
And we know about this because succession struggles are the things history is made of and so they get recorded.
So if Jesus had a son named Judah (or anything else), we'd know about it. We know a lot about the politics of the early Church, and we'd certainly know about a succession fight involving the son of Jesus. We'd have all the arguments of the winning side about why their side was right and the son of Jesus was not his legitimate successor.
This is especially the case when you realize that Jesus' surviving male family members were active in the leadership of the Church, like James the Just, who became bishop of Jerusalem. But it was his "brothers" who played these leadership roles, not his son.
Thus the ninth domino falls: The fact that nothing like Cameron's version was recorded by anybody--including those hostile to the Church who would want to discredit it--underscores the utter implausibility of the whole idea.
Then there are the specific arguments brought forth by Cameron and his crew in favor of their hypothesis, but those have been ably rebutted by others.
(CHT to the reader who e-mailed the last!)