By Evan Ferstenfeld

Skeleton Key's director Iain Softley and writer Ehren Kruger have seldom had a hand in any project that, upon gazing at the finished product, seemed to spell out "risky artistic endeavor." Instead, the motivation for their careers usually takes on the appearance of "a month-long trip to Maui and platinum earmuffs for the family." Softley is the crafter of the cinematic creampuff K-PAX, along with a film that mind-bafflingly blended the most ridiculous aspects of a mid-90's rollerblade hooligan and a pocket-protecting digital instigator (Hackers). Writer Kruger has become a harbinger for once-mighty franchises who are about to power-bomb through the bottom of the barrel, evidenced by the lackluster final entries of the Ring and Scream series. If a man is to be judged solely on his recent achievements, these gentlemen would seem like a hesitant choice to front a cable access Halloween special.

For the first half of The Skeleton Key's sludgy and predictable swamp crawl, those skeptical raised eyebrows of critics and moviegoers alike seem to be making a valid analysis. Caroline Ellis (Kate Hudson) works at an uncaring nursing home that has a death rate nearing the double digits by its daily tea time, so she decides to take a more meaningful job caring for a paralyzed fella (John Hurt) and his faded Southern Belle wife (Gena Rowlands) located deep into the boggiest section on the New Orleans Bayou. Before Caroline can even make her first hospital corner, she stumbles upon a room full of copious amounts of Hoodoo paraphernalia, and starts to uncover a creepy mystery worthy of a two-part Scooby-Doo investigation.

All of these eerily realistic connections to Old World rituals, paranormal uprisings and the brutal history of the South do make for an unnerving environment to lay out the film's Fright House cheap thrills, as Softley films Caroline poking around the moist Dixie atmosphere as if Captain Kirk were exploring an uncharted alien planet. Unfortunately, for most of the proceedings Key is strictly boo by-the-book, with all the fake-out spooks and jarring camera jukes you've come to expect from a lifetime of scarefests. Characters with the depth of cardboard cutouts trot in to propel the picture forward, motivations are casually left out in plain sight and plot-infused, foreboding pearls of wisdom are uttered that might as well be stenciled on the screen in bold, highlighted letters with a large circle around them denoting importance.

Just as Skeleton Key looks to be approaching a predictable finish line, the film thankfully jumps the rails off the beaten path and violently hurtles through thick smoke screens and hairpin-sharp plot twists. With so much invention and revelation unlocked in the final twenty minutes, it's as if Softley and Kruger were ADHD-addled kiddies who excitedly produced the finale of their movie first, long before the Captain Crunch sugar-high wore off and the afterthought of a set-up was then addressed.

As it stands, The Skeleton Key is an above-average thriller with many glimmers and hints of being so much more. Functioning more as a Cliffs Notes edition in the same jaw-dropping vein as classics The Sixth Sense, Fight Club, or The Usual Suspects, Key opens up enough new doorways and several "A-ha!" moments of realization when one pieces together the movie’s secrets that an eventual second viewing is required. At least Softley and Kruger have begun to think less about their caviar dinner dates and more about making water-tight scripts that sizzle.

Grade: B-
Rating: PG-13
Running Time: 104 Min