In theaters

DATE MOVIE, directed by Aaron Seltzer, written by Jason Friedberg and Seltzer, 81 minutes, rated PG-13.

At first, you think, “Well, this is impossible. Just look at the material they had to work with. How do you screw up a movie that wants to tackle romantic comedies? How can you not walk into that junkyard meadow, pull up your share of failed foxgloves, and not send them successfully over the moon?”

For the satirist, this is a no-miss opportunity. Sorry, no excuses, there’s no room for failure. There’s just too much material from which to choose, too many gifted writers and directors who could pull this off seamlessly. Trouble is, it turns out director Aaron Seltzer isn’t that person. He’s no satirist. After seeing “Date Movie,” some might question whether he’s a humorist. Or even a humanist.

The movie, which he co-wrote with Jason Friedberg, is 81 minutes of cinematic Ambien. It’s a true hypnotic. You sit there watching the screen, aware that shapes are moving, people are talking, things are happening that are supposed to be funny, but the movie is so stupefyingly unfunny, sleep is the thief that wants to carry you away – not laughter.

Did I mention the movie is dull? Oh, it’s dull. And cruel? Oh, it’s cruel. Here’s a rundown of the plot: Alyson Hannigan (“American Pie,” “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”) plays Julia Jones, a sweet young lass whose monumental weight problem apparently is no challenge for a chop shop to fix. Swiftly, she’s put on the block by Hitch (Tony Cox), an angry, black little person who, like Will Smith’s character in “Hitch,” has a knack for helping people like Julia become more conventionally attractive so she can find a date, though this Hitch has methods that are a bit more extreme.

As Seltzer sees it, overweight people apparently can’t bend to tend to their toenails, so Julia’s hideous outgrowths are sanded down with power tools. Ho, ho. The hairy mole on her forearm is treated with hummus, you know, because she’s part Greek. Yuck, yuck. Her breasts, which tend to flop on her back when she jumps for joy, are dramatically lifted and altered so they stay put. What comes through this transformation is the Hollywood ideal, somebody polished of physical flaws so they can be worthy of a date. There’s a message to send to your target audience of teens.

Onward with the plot: When she was overweight, Julia met at her family’s restaurant (a nod at “My Big Fat Greek Wedding”) a blond dreamboat named Grant Funkyerdoder (Adam Campbell), who apparently came from the Hugh Grant school of English-speaking arts. As their courtship blooms with Hitch’s help, echoes of the “Bridget Jones” movies follow, as do references to “Say Anything,” “Meet the Fockers,” “Meet the Parents,” “Forrest Gump” and “My Best Friend’s Wedding,” among countless others. Easy digs at Michael Jackson lace through the production, as does a gaseous cat who has some rather atrocious bathroom etiquette.

The problem with “Date Movie” is that it doesn’t understand satire. It thinks that just because you reference a movie, that’s the same thing as pinning it to a wall with scenes that skewer it. It isn’t. It’s just movie name dropping, nothing more, with its series of a-ha moments offering no payoff. For a film whose running time is so brief, “Date Movie” lingers and languishes longer than it takes most to get to third base.

Grade: D-

On video and DVD

RENT, directed by Chris Columbus, written by Columbus and Stephen Chbosky, 128 minutes, rated PG-13.

In Chris Columbus’ self-aware adaptation of Jonathan Larson’s 1996 stage musical, “Rent,” there never is a question that we’re dealing with a film that apparently broke a hip upon its leap from stage to screen.

Occasionally, the movie is entertaining and engrossing, but too often for the wrong reasons. The problem is that “Rent” never was intended for the screen. It’s designed for the stage, a completely different beast with different needs, starting with the electrical give and take between a cast and its audience. Broadway and Hollywood know the difficulties of pulling off this sort of film, but hope, I’m afraid, is more powerful than logic, and in this case, hope got the best of “Rent.” Hope sent it to hell.

A contemporary retelling of Puccini’s “La Boheme,” the film does bring back much of the original cast, who do their best here, and it’s hardly lacking in big issues as it deals with homelessness, death, drug addiction, sexuality, HIV and AIDS. Yes in spite of this, it packs the dramatic punch of a feather. The movie has a rushed, awkward feel to it. It strains to be as engaging as Larson’s songs.

Unlike Rob Marshall’s excellent adaptation of “Chicago” or the more recent “The Producers,” “Rent” demands to be taken literally, which is its failing. In one scene, a character might be having a perfectly engaging conversation about the dangers of shooting up dope or the worry of not being able to pay the rent, and then suddenly be singing his heart out, setting trash cans ablaze and dancing on tables as if that’ll keep on the lights. It doesn’t.

Grade: C-

Visit www.weekinrewind.com, the archive of Bangor Daily News film critic Christopher Smith’s reviews, which appear Mondays in Discovering, Fridays in Happening, and Weekends in Television. He may be reached at Christopher

@weekinrewind.com