The Hitcher

The Hitcher is the Jessica Simpson of psycho killer flicks - cheerfully in touch with its own brainlessness.

A remake of the 1986 suspense ''classic,'' is as processed and hoot-worthy as the original.

A remake of the 1986 suspense ''classic,'' is as processed and hoot-worthy as the original.

This is a mechanical gore-fest that offers preposterous stunts in place of escalating tension and waxwork mannequins in place of marginally interesting characters.

Bean carves out his own modest variations on the theme of John Ryder-on-the-storm, but Bush and Knighton are so blandly forgettable that it's hard to believe that they're the protagonists and not Victims 1 and 2.

The movie genuflects toward pop depth in a scene where Grace sprawls on a motel bed watching Alfred Hitchcock’s "Birds," another thriller about implacable, undefined evil, but there’s a difference between refusing to give viewers the answers and having nothing to say. For all its death-metal vigor, The Hitcher falls into the latter camp.

The original film was intellectually engaging as well as tangibly creepy, while the new remake is just plain bad, and boring to boot.

The original film was intellectually engaging as well as tangibly creepy, while the new remake is just plain bad, and boring to boot.

The movie genuflects toward pop depth in a scene where Grace sprawls on a motel bed watching Alfred Hitchcock's "Birds," another thriller about implacable, undefined evil, but there's a difference between refusing to give viewers the answers and having nothing to say. For all its death-metal vigor, The Hitcher falls into the latter camp.

Any good will built up during the decent first half hour is quickly vaporized.