Cursed attempts to rekindle the magic, seemingly unaware that time has marched on, that only the lamest among us still enjoys "Friends" or anything else from the late 90s, and that VH-1 has destroyed pop culture meta-commentary forever. Christina Ricci, who simply deserves better, struggles against a real mess of a film—a contrived, clichéd would-be shocker that doesn't even vault past the low bar set by Craven's Red Eye. The main problem, aside from the wildly and unintentionally hilarious computer-generated werewolves, is not so much that the film is bad, but that it seems to know it's bad. Any possible camp factor (and there was potential … Judy Greer transforming into a bad CG werewolf certainly could have been screamingly funny in the good sense) is destroyed by the endlessly self-aware dialogue and set design. Ha, ha—a Lon Chaney "Wolf Man" wax figure … in a werewolf movie! I've never seen a movie so desperately try to get by on "air quotes." It's just awful. Even when the awfulness becomes laugh-out-loud funny, the script immediately winks at you, curdling the entire experience. This is just a lazy fucking way to make a movie. Kevin Williamson does not deserve to work. Like, not even at Taco Bell. Would you eat an "ironic" Chalupa? I fuckin' thought not.
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