Jackson Free Press

This Halloween season's requisite "spooky house" flick, "The Grudge," tries in vain to combine American and Japanese horror genre sensibilities, with clunky, derivative, disappointing results. Director Takashi Shimizu has adapted his own 2003 film "Ju-on: The Grudge" for American audiences (who certainly couldn't just rent a subtitled version of the original), but something seems to have gotten lost in translation.

The "grudge" of the film's title refers to the Japanese superstition that when a person dies in an act of sorrow or rage, his or her spirit will linger on at the site of the death, haunting and killing those who happen upon it. Set in Tokyo, the film (rather erroneously) uses a nonlinear plot structure to expose the sinister history of a suburban house while also chronicling those in the path of its "curse."

American exchange student Karen (Sarah Michelle Gellar of television's "Buffy the Vampire Slayer") encounters the house in question when she is sent there as a replacement nurse for its mentally ill resident, Emma (Grace Zabriskie of television's "Seinfeld") after her original caretaker mysteriously vanishes. Upon arriving, Karen can immediately sense a strangeness about the home, but that doesn't stop her from investigating its darkened hallways and rooms without even searching for a light switch (try to count the number of times a character does this).

The plot unfolds in piecemeal fashion, alternating between the current-day storyline of Karen and her boyfriend Doug (Jason Behr of television's "Roswell") and previous events involving the house's new owners, Emma's son and daughter-in-law (William Mapother, "In the Bedroom" and Clea DuVall, "Identity") and a suicide victim (Bill Pullman) who holds a surprising connection to the tragedy that took place there. Unfortunately, this structure becomes irritating and imposing, despite the secrets that are slowly uncovered (which won't be revealed here).

The atmosphere of "The Grudge" is its undeniable strong point. Shimizu does manage to build up the house's mythology effectively, to the degree that even a shot of its exterior creates a feeling of dread and foreboding. While he fails to deliver true scares, he does deliver a mood, thanks to the care with which he frames shots and paces scenes.

Gellar, having made a career playing a strong female character for seven years with "Buffy," is ostensibly the lead of the film, but she is given surprisingly little screen time; her character vanishes for lengthy stretches to allow for flashbacks and development of supporting characters. In truth, none of the characters is given a substantial background (or even much of a personality), and Gellar's performance, though capable, consists of little more than expressions of apprehension or despair.

"The Grudge" is screenwriter Stephen Susco's first effort, and it shows: the dialogue is achingly obvious, the story's numerous strands never truly connect and make little sense, and the conclusion, while packing quite a punch, feels empty. Unfortunately, most audience members have probably had cell phone bills more frightening than this picture, and they're the ones who'll wind up holding the real grudge.