Boogeyman

Forget that Sam Rami's name is attached to Boogeyman (he's on production duties) - even by the derivative standards adopted by many directors working in the horror genre, the sheer lack of ambition of Boogeyman takes some beating. In a brief and frankly ridiculous prologue, we learn that Tim has been terrified of closets (no, seriously) ever since his dad was killed by the Boogeyman. A decade and a half later and Tim (Barry Watson) works on a trendy magazine with his girlfriend Jessica (Tory Mussett) but he's still plagued by visions of the Boogeymeister and isn't too fond of doors which open into dark places. After another family tragedy, Tim decides that the only way he'll ever be able to conquer his fears is if he returns to his old home and spends a single night there. Have a guess what happens next...

With a premise so threadbare it's a wonder it didn't catch pneumonia, Boogeyman is startling only in its lack of diversity and its utter dependence on staples of the noveau horror genre - flashy jump cuts and uncomfortably loud noises. Director Stephen Kay seems so fond of his own kinetic style of filmmaking that he never bothers burdening the audience with anything resembling a subplot or - God forbid - character development. What we're left with is a film so thoughtlessly anchored in inanity that only the final credits come close to offering some form of relief. For all of the wrong reasons, mind you.