Feardotcom: Be afraid. For movies.

And it's established: the dearth of good movies this summer has been successfully concluded with one last travesty of a film, Feardotcom. So far, Hollywood has graciously gifted our summer theatres with clichéd spy flicks and inane comedies, leaving room for one final genre, a surprisingly terrible horror film. Surprising, because I was unaware a film could have so many negative qualities. It's almost as if Tori Spelling wrote, directed, and starred in her own film—the level of failure is mind-boggling.

Plot, acting, direction, lighting: you name it, this film hasn't got it. An incomprehensible jumble of scenes is perhaps a more apt name for this filmmaking disaster than "movie." The word movie implies some form of actual entertainment and artistry, perhaps a bit of coherency here and there. Not nonsensical gibberish about murders occurring through the internet. Hmm, maybe Tori Spelling did write this movie.

Feardotcom opens with a man, bleeding from the eyes, being hit by a train. The scene is dark, with intermittent light flashes. This lack of illumination is not unusual, remaining throughout the entire film to further obstruct viewer comprehension.

The opening murder sets the stage for the classic serial killer/detectives face off that makes up this formulaic film. Good guy and girl cops chase after bad, puzzling murderer, falling in love along the way. The only unique concept in this film is the actual manner in which the murders are committed, which is enthralling at first. People are murdered via the internet, after visiting a certain website, feardotcom… dot com.

Originally, the concept of internet homicides seems to peruse new ground, in a clever twist on a clichéd idea: mixing serial murders with new age technology. Yet as the film progresses it becomes obvious that the writers simply wanted to show something inexplicable. And then leave it unexplained.

The confusion of the film is emphasized by the fact that the internet murders are separate from the murders being committed by some psychopath named the Doctor, whose part in the film is never really explained or understood. Not that anything in the film ever is, at least to my apparently dull eyes. Even as the final scene ticked to a close and the viewers were supposedly enlightened as to the meaning of the plot, I was left wondering what, exactly, my brain had ingested. Clearly nothing worth remembering.

In its feeble defense, I must say that the film did have a few frightening moments, utilizing suspense and dark rooms to stir fleeting feelings of fear. I screamed, once. Of course, the entire theatre burst into laughter afterwards, which may dismiss the validity of my reaction. But the film did have its two seconds of eeriness, granting it some miniscule reprieve from relentless criticism.

Not much, however. The audience's only real response to this film was laughter. Somehow, I doubt that's the reaction Feardotcom was searching for.

FEARDOTCOM (R, 94 minutes) – Contains profanity and violence, including grisly images of torture and nudity. At area theaters.