In theaters

PANIC ROOM, directed by David Fincher, written by David Koepp. 112 minutes. Rated R.

From its terrific opening title sequence of block letters hovering high alongside Manhattan’s towering skyscrapers to its sweeping, digitally enhanced journey through the walls, nooks and crannies of an Upper West Side mansion, David Fincher’s “Panic Room” is the definitive answer for those wondering whatever happened to style in today’s movies.

It’s right here.

The film, from a script by David Koepp (“Stir of Echoes”), might not be as good as Fincher’s “Fight Club” and “Se7en,” but it makes his weakest film, “The Game,” truly look rigged.

Technically flawless yet emotionally sterile, “Panic Room” is a great-looking thriller with clear echoes of Hitchcock whose only shortcoming is that it doesn’t offer audiences a shred of substance to help beef up its thinly realized characters or its serviceable plot.

The film stars Jodie Foster as Meg Altman, a wealthy, recently divorced mother who buys a cavernous West Side brownstone once owned by an eccentric billionaire – a man so paranoid about his safety, he outfitted the house with a reinforced steel cubicle known as a panic room.

It’s here, in this snug, protective vault linked to the outside rooms through a number of cameras and television monitors, that one would hurl oneself should burglars come creeping in the middle of the night – as they do during Meg’s first night in the house.

In a rousing, virtuoso series of events, Meg, along with her teen-age daughter, Sarah (Kristen Stewart), must escape into the safe confines of the panic room before three crooks, played by Forest Whitaker, Jared Leto and Dwight Yoakam in varying degrees of evil, reach them first.

If you’ve seen the television ads or the trailer, you know Meg and Sarah reach the panic room. But what you might not know is that what these men want is a hidden stash of cash buried deep inside that room.

Naturally, since Meg and Sarah aren’t budging, complications ensue. Recalling elements of “Rear Window,” “Dial M for Murder” and especially “Wait Until Dark,” the 1967 Terence Young thriller starring Audrey Hepburn, “Panic Room” is a slick, compelling piece of hysteria peppered with enough twists and turns to keep its focus away from Koepp’s stilted dialogue and the script’s questionable lapses in logic.

You won’t come away feeling that you know any of these characters, as you do in the best thrillers, but with Fincher turning on the technical heat, you will feel as if you experienced a terrifying moment in their lives.

Grade: B

On video and DVD

BANDITS, directed by Barry Levinson, written by Harley Peyton. 123 minutes. Rated PG-13.

Everything about Barry Levinson’s “Bandits” is off – the performances, the direction, the script, the timing, the intent. It’s one of the dullest capers to come out of Hollywood in years, a movie that’s so self-indulgent and plodding, it might best be used as a substitute for sleep medication.

The film’s badness comes as a surprise, especially since its cast – Bruce Willis, Billy Bob Thornton and Cate Blanchett – is so appealing. But Levinson, somehow topping the lameness of his 1998 bomb, “Sphere,” wastes them all.

The film stars Willis and Thornton as Joe Blake and Terry Collins, a mismatched pair of bank robbers famously known as the Sleepover Bandits, a name given to them by the media because of their unusual MO

Instead of barging into a bank and causing a scene, Joe and Terry take the bank manager hostage the night before, share dinner with him and his family, and then, the next morning, line their pockets with cash with the manager’s help.

No muss, no fuss – and hey, they score new friends in the process.

But when a bored, neurotic housewife named Kate (Blanchett) gets caught up in their shenanigans, the film, which has heretofore blown it as an off-beat comedy, now adds a shaky romantic twist as Joe and Terry fall for Kate – and she falls for them – a la Truffaut’s “Jules and Jim.”

What kills “Bandits” from stealing its share of laughs isn’t just that everyone here is a type, but how endlessly chatty the script is. People love to talk in this movie, and yet nobody says anything funny or of much interest. They just talk and talk and talk, mugging at the screen and flailing their arms as if that, coupled with their star power, is enough to keep this padded production afloat.

Grade: D

Christopher Smith’s reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, occasionally on Fridays on E! Entertainment’s “E! News Weekend,” Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.