In theaters

CLOSER, directed by Mike Nichols, written by Patrick Marber, 101 minutes, rated R.

The new Mike Nichols movie, “Closer,” is about relationships that occur solely on the stage or in the movies, but not in real life. Real life couldn’t sustain them.

For that matter, sometimes the screen and stage can’t either.

As adapted by Patrick Marber from his 1997 play, the film is edgy but remote, not particularly likable but interesting. It’s meant to be a commentary on relationships in the 21st century, but let’s not read too much into it. By the end of the film, it already has read too much into itself.

Set in London, four lives collide here, beginning with obituary writer and aspiring novelist Dan (Jude Law) and stripper Alice (Natalie Portman), who have a chance meeting on the street that leads to accidental bloodshed, a hospital visit and romance.

They are together a year when Dan meets photographer Anna (Julia Roberts), who has been hired to take the book jacket photo for his first novel, which is about to be published. They enjoy a brief yet intense flirtation that fizzles – at least initially for Anna – when Dan admits he has a girlfriend.

Aroused by their meeting yet disappointed in how it ended, Dan goes home to the warmth of his computer, where he takes to the Internet, enters a sex chat room and starts a raunchy conversation with someone called Doc9. Doc9 is actually Larry (Clive Owen), a smoldering dermatologist fooled into believing he’s talking with someone named Anna.

Much sex talk ensues – the very graphic, lively sort – with Larry getting turned on by Dan and ultimately lured to the local aquarium, a place Dan knows Anna likes to frequent.

Since it’s coincidence and not reality that drives “Closer,” Anna is naturally there when Larry arrives. What they find in each other after a rather awkward introduction by Larry is the sort of chemistry that proves the springboard for love. And then marriage. And then more problems than you can imagine as all of these jealous, beautiful, amoral people are mashed together and their relationships start to unspool.

For three-quarters of the movie, Nichols sustains the ongoing backbiting and ugliness. You don’t care a lick about his characters, but Nichols nevertheless makes it perverse fun to watch them fall casually in and out of love as they start to hop between each other’s sheets. Throughout, he offers a whiff of his 1971 movie, “Carnal Knowledge,” which mirrors “Closer” in content. But then “Closer,” in its final reel, snaps from too many ironic, romantic twists that become absurd.

Just how won’t be revealed here, but the penultimate scenes let the hot air out of the movie, which unfortunately ends on ice. It’s a downer of an ending, but “Closer” still comes recommended for its acting, its flashes of wit, its individual scenes of low humor, and the unexpected treat of watching Julia Roberts eagerly shatter her good-girl image with a mouth that should be scrubbed out with a bar of soap.

Grade: B-

On video and DVD

ANACONDAS: THE HUNT FOR THE BLOOD ORCHID, directed by Dwight H. Little, written by John Clafin, 93 minutes, rated PG-13.

“Anacondas: The Hunt for the Blood Orchid” takes place in Borneo, where a fit team of attractive scientists and investors have traveled from New York City to find the fountain of youth in a flower that blooms once every seven years.

We are told at the start that finding this flower and making a pill out of its life-extending properties will be “bigger than Viagra,” which gives the old corporate cronies running this gig such a heady lift, they won’t be needing their own little blue pills for awhile.

The film, a companion piece, of sorts, to 1997’s “Anaconda,” doesn’t star J.Lo this time around. Instead, it sports the world’s first-ever pseudo J.Lo.

Indeed, as Gail Stern, Salli Richardson-Whitfield is a stereotypical Latina with a fiery attitude who has been teased and tarted up to look like her predecessor.

Joining Gail are a pretty scientist (KaDee Strickland) with a hillbilly accent; a money-hungry English scientist (Matthew Marsden) who’s on the make; a studly doctor (Nicholas Gonzalez) who has eyes for the hillbilly; and a corporate suit (Morris Chestnut) who has bad luck with spiders. Eugene Byrd fails spectacularly to add comic relief as techie Cole Burris. Completing the melting pot is Karl Yune as Tran.

Nobody here stands taller than beefy Bill Johnson (Johnny Messner), who talks with the sort of B-movie husk that suggests he gargles with a nicotine wash before each take. Bill has muscles no T-shirt can contain, and a scruffy five o’clock shadow that could peel the skin off an anaconda. When we first see his clunker of a boat, which will take this jumpy crew to the blood orchid, we note that it’s called the Bloody Mary, which is perfect. It’s at this point that some in attendance will need a drink.

With no effort made by the filmmakers to give us a single moment we don’t see coming, the film is little more than a rote plodding through the paces.

Some of the dialogue is appealingly cheesy, but there aren’t enough of those moments to make the film appallingly bad – and thus enjoyable. It’s just damp and humid and dull. “Blood Orchid” dies at the root.

Grade: D

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, 5:30 p.m. Thursdays on WLBZ 2 Bangor and WCSH 6 Portland, and are archived at RottenTomatoes.com. He may be reached at BDNFilm1@

aol.com.