If every home came with a built-in Elisha Cuthbert, there’d be no housing crisis. The evil dude in Captivity keeps one in his basement, albeit against her will. Even though the movie stinks, I still want one. After all, I’ve seen The Girl Next Door. Four times. She looks like fun.
Here, she’s Jennifer, a high-fashion model who carries a poodle as an accessory. She’s supposed to be über-famous, yet she goes completely unnoticed in a crowded nightclub as she sips her roofie martini. She wakes up in the gloomy basement of her kidnapper, who has some mini-Saw games in store for her.
These sequences feel tacked-on, as if an afterthought. So does a midpoint revelation that Jennifer’s not alone: There’s a cute boy (Daniel Gillies) trapped in the adjoining room! This is convenient, because not only can they maybe help each other out, but also, sex can be had.
Larry Cohen co-wrote the script, which isn’t up to the level of his other thrillers of that era, Cellular and Phone Booth. But how to explain twice-Oscar-nominated director Roland Joffé at the helm? You can’t. He does bring a visual style to the show, but that’s about it. —Rod Lott
And how I wish I could go back in time to save myself two hours and four bucks. This is not a story — it’s an endlessly cycling collection of footage of knights falling down, students climbing out of houses, swords clanging, and our heroes checking their “countdown markers” to see how much time they have left to make their rescue. In the spirit of things, I kept checking the readout on my DVD player to see how much more crap was left to unload before the closing credits.
Plot? We’ve pretty much already said it. Like 
Bubba’s mom hides him in the scarecrow on their farm field, but the vigilante mob finds him and shoots him dead. And for nothing: Bubba saved the little girl’s life; ’twas a vicious dog to blame for her bloodiness. D’oh! Just desserts arrive as a scarecrow comes a-knockin’ for vengeance, one by one. You might say they get the short end of the straw. (Insert rimshot here.)
Needing money so child welfare can’t split him from his orphaned little brother, who likes to graffiti owls on their kitchen wall, Ty agrees, even though Skeet is involved. All goes according to plan until some asshole hobo has to fuck everything up, and, well, money corrupts, especially when we’re talking enough Benjamins to fund a Dillon vehicle.