Cursed: Movie & DVD Review (2005)

(Originally published 2005)

The hammy horror movie "Cursed" stars Christina Ricci as Ellie Hudson, a television producer for "The Late Late Show with Craig Kilborn" who finds herself sandbagged with a horror show of a different sort.

After surviving a nasty car wreck on Mulholland Drive, Ellie and her unpopular brother, Jimmy (Jesse Eisenberg), are doomed to the dark side when each is attacked by a werewolf.

Infected with its blood, they find themselves going through what can best be described as an unfortunate second bout of puberty: Hair appears where it never appeared before, unappealing mood swings cloud their worlds, interest in the occult emerges, everyone seems against them.

Who took a bite out of them? Take your pick - Hollywood is filled with wolves. Still, in this case, it could be any number of people.

There's Ellie's smoldering love interest, Jake (Joshua Jackson), who is opening a hip new discotheque filled with wax dummies. There's cruel Joanie, a soulless publicist played with undermining mince by Judy Greer. And there's even Scott Baio, the former television star of "Happy Days" and "Joanie Loves Chachi," who shakes things up by playing himself. Here, he's a ho-hum has been.

In the movie, Baio is represented by Joanie - of course he is, naturally he is. But that bit of comedy is so awkwardly played, as are most of the laughs in "Cursed," that it likely will raise more eyebrows in print than it does onscreen.

As directed by that old horror mainstay Wes Craven from a script by his "Scream" series collaborator, Kevin Williamson, "Cursed" contrives a story in which Ellie and Jimmy can break free from their curse only if they sever the head of the werewolf that bit them.

And so, in spite of the unexpected benefits that come from being a werewolf - Ellie gains sex appeal, Jimmy gains confidence, nobody messes with them - they push forward in an effort to do just that.

All of this could have been loose, kitschy fun, but "Cursed" is too self-conscious to get off the ground. Working against it is a weak script, an odd, ugly rash of homophobia that fractures the first third, and lazy special effects sequences that add nothing to the film but the occasional snort and giggle.

It's up to the cast to get the job done, but with the exception of Ricci and Eisenberg, who are good here, that's like applying modest pressure to a hemorrhaging wound.

Grade C-