2000, 1 hr 47 min., Rated R for bizarre violence and sexual images, nudity and language.�Dir: Tarsem Singh. Cast: Jennifer Lopez, Vincent D'Onofrio, Vince Vaughn.

Why was I in the theater to see The Cell?, I asked my pad while waiting for the credits to begin. I hate to be scared, I knew the film would be weird and I had so-so interest in seeing the film, the only upside being Roger Ebert's orgasm on screen every time he mentions the movie. So, for me, is the pull of Jennifer Lopez and the promise of amazing visuals enough? Apparently so.

In the end, I just what to think about this one. It could have been scarier and I was expecting it to be, burying my head in the chair when I thought something terrifying was coming. But generally it didn't happen; I didn't have much of the willies in The Cell.

PLOT: Serial killer Vincent D'Onofrio has tortured and murdered seven already with an eighth missing. When he becomes a vegetable due to severe schizophrenia, Jennifer Lopez enters his mind in order to learn the location of the missing woman.

The visuals were interesting, from Vince Vaughn's Fruitopia-commercial entrance into D'Onofrio's mind, to the purple cape shot and the dissected horse (freaky!). "What the hell?" was a recurring thought of mine, especially when Lopez became Xena: Child Therapist in her "I'm the Virgin Mary yet totally in control in a snowglobe" mind.

The Cell reminded me somewhat of What Dreams May Come in terms of colorful visuals, but when the Robin Williams vehicle goes to Hell it has a lot more heart. Though the former may have the edge as far as intensity goes.

As are most psycho killers I'm sure, D'Onofrio's mind is a lot more vivid than mine. If Lopez entered mine, she'd join me in the "Big Brother" house, play golf with Jack Nicklaus and have nightmares that are work-related. Not quite the same as dead naked women in water and wearing a 100-foot cape. Although she might get a kick out of watching me screw up in Master Control and watch Headline News fade to black.

One major complaint I have with The Cell is that the music gets annoying quick. Many times, Howard Shore's score is a loud, fingernail-on-the-chalkboard screeching that left me cringing in disgust.

Lopez, suspended while wrapped in a bodysuit of Twizzlers, is a child therapist who, through experimental scientific psychobabble, can enter the mind of another. Originally she tries to help a comatose child whose idea of a dream is a lot of sand and Salvador Dali-like trees before becoming the bogeyman. As for Lopez's acting. . . well, she at least looks hot. She didn't have much to do other than look good, be sweet and quiet and look afraid.

D'Onofrio (Full Metal Jacket) has already proved he has a mean streak. He can be very frightening and an intimidating on-screen presence. Vaughn, though, really didn't belong as an FBI agent. He was trying to hard to be serious and brooding like Fox Mulder, but came across as dull and boring, with no personality whatsoever. Even dark and brooding would have been a step up.

Overall, this crime thriller - dream weaver flick weirded me out, and I was happy to be released when it was over. Yet, during the film one becomes strangely enraptured.