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Wes Bentley, what happened? Remember back in 1999 when you were well on your way to being the next big thing after American Beauty? You were so dreamy, so brooding, so awesome—"star material" was written all over you. But then you dropped off the face of the earth 'til 2007, when you played the bad guy in Ghost Rider, and now you're the star of the schlocky P2. Ummm, do you have an agent?
Grudgingly, I'll admit that Wes Bentley manages to steal the show in P2, the latest clichéd entry into the horror genre—but I don't mean that in a good way. His ham-fisted turn as a psychotic parking garage attendant (no, really) is laughably bad. Bentley plays Thomas, a lonely stalker who traps his office-dwelling "love interest," Angela (Rachel Nichols), in an underground parking garage on Christmas Eve so they can spend an intimate, blood-soaked dinner together. What follows is a tedious cat-and-mouse chase through a deserted parking structure, which taps nearly every horror cliché in the book (right down to the sprinklers dousing Angela in her skimpy white dress—this genre's never-ending fascination with nipples is... never ending). The film tries desperately to infuse humor into a skeletal plot, with absolutely no success—depending on the woefully miscast Bentley to rake in the laughs as a nice-guy nutjob looking for love.
With absolutely nothing redeeming about this stinker, the only minor level of interest I could muster for P2 was the level of decrepitude that Bentley has sunk to. Sad, really. It reminds me of that that plastic bag blowing in the wind—only now, it's filled with dog shit.
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