Valentine

For those of us who spend every Valentine's Day bitter and enraged, rather than swapping spit and pink teddy bears, there ought to be some kind of vicarious thrill in seeing unattainable beauties hacked to pieces onscreen by a vengeful nerd they all rejected years ago. Alas, this would-be thriller is one of the tamest R-rated slashers in recent memory, justifying its rating with a single topless image on display at an art exhibit, and only one truly graphic killing (some of the blood was reputedly "digitally removed" in the wake of the FTC brouhaha a couple of months ago). Denise Richards as one of the babes is at least enjoyably trashy, and is rewarded by getting the most creative death scene (what, you actually thought she'd survive?). Meanwhile, romantic leads David Boreanaz and Marley Shelton put on a game face while seemingly unable to believe they're in such a mediocre movie. And there are many lessons to be learned, such as that cherub masks really aren't too scary, nosebleeds are gross, dumping a vat of red liquid over the class nerd at the prom is a truly stupid -- and monumentally unoriginal -- idea, substituting a corpse with a live person for shock value only works if the actor playing the corpse can actually hold still, and most importantly, when film-makers first announce their newest horror movie to the trades, it's a bad idea to reveal the name of the actor playing the killer, especially if deducing the killer's identity is the whole point! Suffice it to say that if you remember when Valentine was first announced, you know who the killer is, though a mere passing familiarity with the cast members' previous roles may also clue you in. Bonus points for a timely reference to speed-dating, and a funny performance by relative unknown Adam Harrington as an arrogant would-be Cassanova who refers to himself in the third person.