Sarah Michelle Gellar

‘The Grudge’ shares more with ‘The Ring’ than a vague two-word title that tells you very little about the movie. It’s also an American remake of a successful Japanese horror movie and, as such, shares a similar theme - potentially laughable but effective within the story’s context.

This time, instead of a murderous video tape, it’s a haunted house possessed by a violent curse that systematically destroys the lives of everyone who has the misfortune of entering it.

And, this time, the results are less satisfying than those of ‘The Ring’, which managed to maintain a high level of suspense throughout. (In other words, you won’t start rolling about on the floor during the climactic scene.)

The problem with ‘The Grudge’ is that, after starting very promisingly, it degenerates into a confusing quagmire of disjointed - but, admittedly, rather disturbing - sequences which seem to have been randomly assorted (in both space and time) to increase the element of mystery in what is, essentially, a simple story.

Karen, Sarah Michelle Gellar, is an exchange student in Tokyo. When another member of her social work volunteer group doesn’t show up for work, she agrees to take on the job of looking after an elderly woman, Emma. But, on entering Emma’s home, she finds it seemingly deserted and in complete disarray, while the woman is in a catatonic state.

Karen, hearing some mysterious scratching sounds in the house (and obviously not having watched many horror movies in her life), makes the mistake of going upstairs to investigate. What she finds is truly disturbing, as she finds herself being engulfed in the curse where reality and imagination combine.

Will she survive? Will she remain sane?

Will we even care?

Unfortunately, by the time the credits roll, you probably won’t. Writer-director Takashi Shimizu lets the terror wane in favour of the supernatural elements. The mysterious opening sequences involving locked cupboards and dark attics are truly horrifying, but as the source of the scratching sounds takes on a physical form, the frights die a horrible death.

So too, the related mystery of the family that once lived in the home, begins with intrigue but drowns itself in a bath tub - or plunges off the top of a very high building.

What does remain throughout is Shimuzi’s dark, gloomy visual style that’s been lacking from a lot of recent Hollywood horrors. And some of the flashback/fantasy sequences really do leave you feeling a bit traumatised, giving you that uncomfortable stomach-in-knots sensation.

But these moments and the brooding cinematography aren’t enough to compensate for the fright famine. And the clichéd final shock - the one that’s supposed to make you spill your Coke all over your lap - simply underlines how low the horror factor has dropped to by the end.