GLORIA, directed by Sidney Lumet, written by Steven Antin, based on a story by John Cassavetes. Running time: 108 minutes. Rated R (for violence, language and adult themes).

Over the course of her career, Sharon Stone has had a penchant for playing tough women, including a bisexual nymphomaniac serial killer in “Basic Instinct,” a death row inmate in “Last Dance,” a gun-toting cowgal in “The Quick and the Dead,” and a cocaine-snorting glamour-girl in “Casino,” a performance, incidentally, which earned her a well-deserved Academy Award nomination in 1995.

But now, in Sidney Lumet’s surprisingly good remake of John Cassavetes’ “Gloria,” Stone rolls up her sleeves to take on one of the toughest of tough-women roles — ball-busting Gloria — a part Gena Rowlands made famous in 1980, but which the talented Stone nevertheless manages to call her own.

Stone, it seems, has been preparing her whole life to play Gloria, which requires her to “tawk like dis” while looking smashing — if cheap — in skintight clothes, 6-inch stiletto heels and a shock of blond curls that frames her otherwise pretty face. In her harrowing attempt to protect 7-year-old Nicky Nunez (Jean-Luke Figueroa) from a mob hit ordered by her ex-boyfriend, Kevin (Jeremy Northam), she looks great, lean and sexy, where Rowlands was thick and stocky.

Stone is a natural here, bringing to the role the same no-nonsense, brassy sense of humor that made Rowlands’ performance so imminently watchable. Indeed, to hear her shout a mouthful of obscenities, to watch her strut across a women’s prison in full evening regalia, and to see her wield a gun while ordering a group of men to strip naked, is to know the full extent of her conviction as an actress. There doesn’t seem to be anything she isn’t willing to try or do, which essentially is why Stone will always be someone worth watching.

As in the best mob films, “Gloria” finds its humor within the characters’ ignorance; that’s part of its charm. But director Lumet also understands the lives of not-so-quiet desperation his characters are living and thus shoots New York as if it were a representation of these characters’ lives — the world’s trash can in desperate need of a break.

If it is this sensitivity that gives “Gloria” its edge, it is the film’s relationships that give it its heart. As foul-mouthed, ex-con Gloria falls reluctantly for Nicky, something of a paradox emerges: This is one relationship that never feels forced in spite of being absolutely contrived.

Grade: B

VIRUS, directed by John Bruno, written by Chuck Pfarrar and Dennis Feldman, based on The Dark Horse comic book series “Virus” by Pfarrar. Running time: 96 minutes. Rated R (for rubbish).

If it is possible to impeach a film, then please, by all means, impeach John Bruno’s “Virus.” Censure it, squelch the video release, be done with the DVD version, burn the action figures, spurn the reprehensible cast, hurl the film straight from theaters with a unanimous vote and be done with it forever.

The film, which essentially is about a gigantic Erector set gone mad on an alien-infected ship, has the low distinction of being one of the worst films of the year. Any year. It plays on so many stereotypes, falls victim to so many tired science-fiction cliches, it made this critic want to hose it down with bleach, scrub it with a Brillo pad and disinfect it with Lysol. Yet still germs would linger.

There is nothing of merit here — nothing; the film hangs itself and suffocates noisily on the impossible suspension of disbelief it demands from its audience. In its deseparate attempt to rip off James Cameron’s “Terminator” and “Terminator 2,” it only shows how well those films were executed, how gripping and well-acted they were.

But “Virus” is only capable of caricature. To say that the performances by Jamie Lee Curtis, Billy Baldwin and Donald Sutherland are beyond reproach is to say that “Half-Baked” and “Spice World” featured some of the most nuanced acting of 1998.

Still, the worst thing about “Virus” has to be its dialogue, which is so stilted, so rotten, it stuns one into a kind of cinematic submission. Indeed, when Curtis says, “There’s no such thing as easy money, Squeaky!” or worse, “That’s an awful lot of blood, Richie!” you feel as if you’ve been exposed to the very worst kind of virus — one your insurance company won’t cover — and that, in the end, is the highest crime and misdemeanor of all.

Grade: Impeached (F)

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear each Monday in the NEWS. Each Thursday on WLBZ’s “News Center 5:30 Today,” he reviews what’s new and worth renting in video stores.