Avis Metacritic

Marks a return to a not-so-distant time when horror movies weren't soul-rotting atrocities but just enjoyably bad.

More an uninspired letdown than a flabbergasting turkey... One reason for this lack of bite lies in the werewolves themselves. They're a bit too teddy-bearish, even oddly cuddly, and the fright scenes work better when you don't see much of them.

Except for Eisenberg's superb comic timing and his ability to make the familiar seem interesting, the high school scenes play like "Scream" outtakes.

If there's the kernel of a good story buried somewhere deep in Cursed, it never pops. As werewolf movies go, this one is on par with "An American Werewolf in Paris," but at least that dud had plenty of gore and Julie Delpy's bare breasts to recommend it.

It's not bad enough to make you curse, but you are likely to laugh when you should scream, and to roll your eyes when you are meant to laugh.

It's hard to tell who is more Cursed - the pretty young people who turn into werewolves on screen or the people who buy tickets for this slow, witless, predictable horror flick.

Unlike Cursed, which resorts to blatant but unconvincing gore and violence, "The Wolf Man" (1941) gets its point across through suggestion, makeup and spooky sets.

A third-rate effort, with a weak script, cheap-looking effects and no genuine frights.

The film vacillates between inanity and flat-out lameness, and the decision to recut from an R-rated version to a PG-13 sucked out whatever life might have been left.

Cursed, a modern-day werewolf tale that fails to provide either Craven's trademark chills or Williamson's trademark satirical wit, is a distinctly subpar film that, but for the current boxoffice streak enjoyed by such formulaic genre entries, deserved to go direct to video.