The advent of omnipresent cell phones in modern society has been thorn in the side of scriptwriters everywhere for the past five years or so. In thrillers especially, the types of suspenseful and life-threatening situations that such films hinge upon could easily be avoided with a quick, easy cell call. Hence, I've taken to noting the ways and frequency in which the pesky phones are disposed of on screen. Most often, cell phones are either lost, or can't get good reception, which results in garbled, half-understood messages, thereby heightening the manufactured suspense. In this film, we get all of the above. (At least no one's battery dies at an inopportune moment. But, there's always the sequel...)

The lead character, a perfectly likable virginal young girl named Jill (played by Camilla Belle, a dead ringer for a young Selma Blair) is grounded from her phone due to having gone over on her minutes. She's also grounded from the big bonfire party her classmates are throwing, and must instead spent the night babysitting a rich doctor's two sleeping kids in a visually interesting but ridiculously secluded huge house with enormous glass window walls. The phone begins to ring a lot, which Jill devoutly answers every time, in hopes that it's her estranged boyfriend calling to deal with their relationship. The calls are increasingly creepy and odd, but Jill keeps answering, further subjecting herself to harassment, even when it's established that the boyfriend's cell phone won't work due to bad reception at the big bonfire. From that point on, there's really no logical reason for Jill to keep answering the phone, but if she didn't, there'd be no movie. (And the world would be a slightly better place.) Caller I.D., another pesky modern convenience that makes screenwriters' jobs tougher, is only utilized when it furthers the plot (such as it is), and is otherwise forgotten.

Even at eighty-seven minutes, the movie felt awfully long, which is no surprise considering that this is essentially the first ten minutes of “Scream” stretched out to feature length. The TV commercial for “When a Stranger Calls” maximizes the extent of its entertainment value. I had hoped for a straightforward, no frills well made thriller, along the lines of Wes Craven's recent “Red Eye”. That, I figured was probably the best-case scenario. I simply didn't count on an established filmmaker like Simon West mis-stepping nearly this badly. Yes, “The General's Daughter” was kind of a snooze, and yes, “Tomb Raider” was a stinking mess, but at least they were watchable. At the half hour point of “When a Stranger Calls”, I was bored stiff. At the forty-minute point, I was sufficiently annoyed with the phone ringing ad nauseam. At the fifty-minute point, I was ready to ram an ice pick in my ear if she took another psychotic phone call and another stroll through the stupid over-designed house.

Throughout all of this, there is a whodunit undercurrent apparent in the screenplay. Is the crazy caller the unseen housemaid, Rosa? Is it the unseen away-at-school college aged son, who lives in the creepy guesthouse? Is it the boyfriend with bad cell phone reception? Or maybe the heavy-drinking, boyfriend-stealing, blonde party-girl friend who drops by unannounced? Or is it the homeowner doctor, or his wife? All are played up as suspects, but trust me, don't bother spending too much time trying to piece anything together. The only reason I can figure for this whodunit angle is that West and company must've been dead-set against sinking to the level of “slasher movie”, therefore making it against form to cut away to the villain as he commits whatever acts of evil he's perpetrating in his build-up to Jill. Too bad, since by leaving the villain completely off screen until absolutely necessary, we have zero sense of the threat level our protagonist is facing. Yes, there's a clichéd crime scene scene at the very beginning of the film, taking place many months ago and a safe 125 miles away, complete with a hardened detective growing squeamish over the sight of it, but that goes unexplained and ultimately doesn't add up to much. It's implied that it's a slaughter of children, but in the end, the villain clearly doesn't care about the doctor's kids – it's Jill he wants. Why, who knows. In any case, the whodunit aspect of the film is a throwaway, only there to occupy our rapidly glazing minds in-between harassing phone calls. It not only fails to elevate the film out of any perceived horror movie ghetto, it ultimately fatally wounds it. (For fun, compare the American flag kiddie art on the back of the first crime scene door with the one on the back of the doctor's children's door. Same flag picture! Coincidence?)

So the 2006 movie year is off to a bad, stinky start. As upset as I was about having wasted my evening and gasoline for the trip to this free screening, I can only imagine how much more upset I'd have been if I actually paid money for this drivel. It's not even unintentionally funny. Trust me, and save your minutes for something else.

- Jim Tudor