In Theaters

“Wes Craven Presents: Dracula 2000,” 100 minutes, R, directed by Patrick Lussier, written by Joel Soisson.

Certainly there have been worse adaptations of Bram Stoker’s “Dracula” than “Wes Craven Presents: Dracula 2000.” For instance, 1978’s “Dracula’s Dog,” 1966’s “Billy the Kid vs. Dracula” and the 1979 French film “Dracula and Son” all come immediately to mind.

But as badly conceived, directed, written and performed as those films were, none offered a premise as absurd as the one director Patrick Lussier and his screenwriter Joel Soisson present in “Dracula 2000.”

I hope you’re sitting down, because this time out, Dracula isn’t merely the prince of darkness or the king of the undead. No, in this film, Dracula is actually Judas Iscariot. Yes, that Judas – the one responsible for nailing Jesus to the cross.

As unbelievable as that sounds, the film runs with the idea, embraces it, which makes the experience of watching “Dracula 2000” doubly surreal. Indeed, after seeing the movie, which Lussier and Craven must have pitched to Miramax as “Dracula” meets “The Last Temptation of Christ,” it’s not a stretch to say that some audience members might be genuflecting midway through.

The story, such as it is, follows Christopher Plummer’s Dr. Van Helsing, a man of a certain age who has kept himself alive through the help of leeches. Lots of leeches. So many leeches, in fact, that one half-expects the film to make a sudden trip to Africa, where Katherine Hepburn and a freshly undead Humphrey Bogart could make smart cameos from the bow of the African Queen.

These leeches, filled with the blood of Dracula (whose body Van Helsing has stored in the basement of his London antique store), are periodically sucked dry by Van Helsing, thus extending his life and allowing him to make certain that Dracula never walks the Earth again.

But when Dracula (Gerard Butler) is released from his coffin by a band of airheads trying to steal Van Helsing’s antiques, all hell, predictably, breaks loose.

With Johnny Lee Miller, Justine Waddell and Omar Epps in supporting roles, “Dracula 2000” isn’t a total bust – the cinematography is excellent and Plummer does his best to lift the film’s lugubrious script. But unlike other horror movies bearing Craven’s name, the film takes itself too seriously. There’s never a moment of intentional humor here, never a time when we sense Lussier winking at the audience, which is certainly strange considering the film’s unusual take on Stoker’s classic.

Grade: D

On Video and DVD

“Hollow Man,” 114 minutes, R, directed by Paul Verhoeven, written by Andrew W. Marlowe.

Never mind the characters. The very first thing to disappear in Paul Verhoeven’s “Hollow Man” is the film’s interest in its intoxicating premise, which eventually vanishes thanks to a script more interested in blood, gore and horror movie cliches than it is in exploring the tantalizing prospects of becoming invisible.

Without question, the film has great special effects, but those moments are consistently undermined by ridiculous exchanges of dialogue between the ridiculously unremarkable characters, none of whom is given the same careful attention to detail the special effects enjoy.

The film stars Kevin Bacon as Sebastian Caine, an arrogant scientist who, along with a team of other scientists (played by Elisabeth Shue, Josh Brolin, Kim Dickens, Greg Grunberg, Mary Jo Randle), has discovered a formula for making people invisible.

After injecting himself with the formula, Caine disappears in a technically brilliant sequence that’s loads of fun to watch unfold. But instead of exploring the moral ramifications of what it means for mankind to have the power of invisibility, the film instead takes the easy way out and sends Caine on a cliched killing spree.

Verhoeven has made good thrillers before – “Robocop” and “Total Recall.” But the satire and comedic edge that made those films so enjoyable are curiously missing here.

It’s odd. Instead of being liberated with the freedom of invisibility, “Hollow Man” is strangely burdened by it. Midway through, there’s a clear point where the film could go in either of two directions – exploration of the invisible or exploitation of it. The film chooses the latter, which, unfortunately, makes for a movie that collapses under the weight of its own weightless contrivances.

Grade: C-

“Autumn in New York,” 100 minutes, PG-13, directed by Joan Chen, written by Allison Burnett.

If you follow film – or pay even passing attention to what’s happening in Hollywood – then you probably heard all the public bellyaching that occurred last August when MGM decided not to screen the new Richard Gere-Winona Ryder movie, “Autumn in New York,” for critics.

Since this is the sort of decision that implies even the studio knows it’s dealing with crap, it came as little surprise that Gere, Ryder and director Joan Chen publicly came out against MGM’s decision, saying they were proud of their work, that they loved their movie – and that it was, in fact, good.

So – how to put this delicately? “Autumn in New York” is not good. The film, which is about the irregular heartbeat of a May-December romance, doesn’t have an honest moment in it.

Still, what is interesting about the film is that nothing that happens in it is ever quite as bad as what’s happened to Richard Gere. The actor has always traded off his looks and charm, but “Autumn,” much like his recent turn in Robert Altman’s “Dr. T and the Women,” suggests he has yet to come to terms with the fact that he’s now 51 and his days as a gigolo are over.

He’s developing something of a Clint Eastwood complex, one that mistakenly makes him feel he can pull off playing characters who bed young women at will – in this case, Winona Ryder’s Charlotte, who’s 22 – as if he himself were still a young colt. Complicating matters for him and his ego is how director Chen clearly doesn’t believe he can pull any of this off. Hammering away at the audience, she uses Allison Burnett’s chatty script to try to brainwash us into thinking that Gere’s character, Will Keane, a 48-year-old super successful restaurateur, is – quite simply – fabulous.

For 30 unrelenting minutes, we are forced to watch women swoon over him, trip over him, eyeball him, wait for him, fawn over him, flatter him – just as they did in “Dr. T.” At one point, even the way a dog cocks his head at him suggests he’s irresistible, a man so virile, anyone would be lucky to call him their own.

None of it works, and that’s because all the flattery in the world can’t conceal the truth of what Richard Gere has become: an actor caught in a midlife crisis who’s desperately trying to hold on to an image he once enjoyed, but no longer fits.

Grade: F

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays in the Style section, Thursdays in the scene and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6.

THE VIDEO CORNER

Renting a video? NEWS film critic Christopher Smith can help. Below are his grades of recent releases in video stores.

Autumn in New York ? F

Hollow Man ? C-

The Art of War ? F

The Exorcist: The Version You?ve Never

Seen ? A

Godzilla 2000 ? B+

The Cell ? B

Road Trip ? D-

Saving Grace ? A-

Where the Money Is ? C+

The Virgin Suicides ? B+

Loser ? C-

The Road to El Dorado ? B-

Shower ? B+

Scary Movie ? B-

Shaft ? B+

Gone in 60 Seconds ? D

Groove ? B-

Nutty Professor II: The Klumps ? C+

Trixie ? D+

The In Crowd ? F+

The Replacements ? D

Chicken Run ? A

Gladiator ? B-

X-Men ? C Big Momma?s House ? B

Boys and Girls ? C-

Fantasia 2000 ? A-

The Perfect Storm ? A

Pokemon: The Movie 2000 ? D+

Mission: Impossible 2 ? B+

Titan A.E. ? B-

Frequency ? B

Return to Me ? B+

Thomas and the Magic Railroad ? D

Center Stage ? D+

The Patriot ? B+

Toy Story 2 ? A

Keeping the Faith ? B+

Rules of Engagement ? C-