Critic Reviews

Marks a return to a not-so-distant time when horror movies weren't soul-rotting atrocities but just enjoyably bad.

Until this past Friday, the worst werewolf film ever made was, hairy hands down, Mike Nichols' "Wolf." Cursed now assumes that dubious distinction and someone is going to have to try very hard to wrestle it away.

More an uninspired letdown than a flabbergasting turkey... One reason for this lack of bite lies in the werewolves themselves. They're a bit too teddy-bearish, even oddly cuddly, and the fright scenes work better when you don't see much of them.

Outdoes recent releases such as "Boogeyman" in the fright department, but the "Dawson's Creek" sensitivity and unsatisfying effects undermine the lupine anxiety.

The problem lies with Williamson's script, which feels as if it has been torn from different places and glued back together like a ransom note.

Though Craven shows flashes of the old magic, Cursed eventually settles into rote, uninspired horror fare, hog-tied to the Williamson formula all the way to arbitrary finish. The film may be one of the best ever not screened in advance for critics, but that still doesn't put it in the finest company.

Poor special effects, a silly looking werewolf and clunky comic writing help to spoil what should have been a fun B-movie.

Except for Eisenberg's superb comic timing and his ability to make the familiar seem interesting, the high school scenes play like "Scream" outtakes.

There is some fun to be had if you're in an undemanding frame of mind.

If there's the kernel of a good story buried somewhere deep in Cursed, it never pops. As werewolf movies go, this one is on par with "An American Werewolf in Paris," but at least that dud had plenty of gore and Julie Delpy's bare breasts to recommend it.