Ten minutes into this puke-slick remake of Wes Craven's infamous 1972 revenge classic on rape, torture and murder, I knew this crapathon would give
Watchmen a run for its money as this weekend's top box-office bell ringer. Such is the debased state of American moviegoing barely three months into the new year, a time when profits soar and taste sinks to sewage levels. Craven, influenced by Ingmar Bergman's
Virgin Spring and the real-life Charles Manson murders, found creative ways to plumb the