They got the title right but this frenetic crime flick falls into the category of superficially exciting, ultimately numbing experiences. Rather than the shot of adrenaline the filmmakers are hoping to deliver, Crank is a dose of Novocaine that makes a beeline for places that didn't hurt until you entered the theater. And like any local anesthetic, it wears off too quickly.

The compulsively impulsive type of stimulation being peddled will leave you weary and wary if not totally dispirited thanks to the movie's technical proficiency, grotesque good humor and star Jason Statham, who savors the role of Los Angeles hit-man Chev Celios.

Chev wakes up one morning to discover he's been poisoned by an associate -- injected with a lethal synthetic drug in retaliation for rubbing out a Chinese gangster. His only hope is to keep his adrenaline pumping to counteract the poison. As a friendly physician-to-the-criminal-element (Dwight Yoakam) warns: "If you stop, you die." 

Staying on the move is not a problem during this cartoonishly gruesome day in L.A. Seeking to exact revenge on his killer before he expires, Chev goes on a rampage that includes driving his car through a mall, commandeering a taxi and robbing a convenience store of Red Bull and the like, snorting cocaine and nasal spray, and ransacking a hospital for ephedrine-filled syringes.

The two most memorable sequences have him riding a cop's motorcycle through Westwood Village clad in a hospital gown (with the song "Everybody's Talkin'" accompanying his hallucinations) and having very public sex with his clueless girlfriend (Amy Smart) on the streets of Chinatown. 

She describes him as "an adrenaline junky with no soul," an apt description of Crank. Calling it nihilistic, however, would accord too much credit. It fires on all cylinders with regard to material suitable only for mature audiences yet aimed at fifteen-year-old males, and is fundamentally just an excuse to piece together a nasty trail of mayhem dotted with morbid jokes. The ugliness includes a severed limb, boatloads of profanity, and a scary if realistic embrace of mind and body-altering substances.

Co-writers and directors Mark Neveldine and Brian Taylor, making their debuts after cutting their teeth on commercials, don't aspire to anything lofty or original. In the press notes they joke about wanting to make a movie that will appeal to moviegoers with Attention Deficit Disorder. Crank revels in its debt to movies like Speed, Collateral and two of Statham's British pictures Snatch and Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels. 

As derivative as it may be, Crank is technically polished, with devices like split screens and High Def digital cameras employed to achieve a certain visual aplomb. Editor Brian Berdan (Natural Born Killers) skillfully turns the fruits of what must have been a manic shoot into a coherent whole.

In a society flush with legal and illegal drugs, plagued by a methamphetamine epidemic, and allegedly scandalized by athletes using steroids and performance-enhancers, everyone seems to be looking for the perfect substance, whether to get a recreational high or to get a practical edge. Here's hoping Crank doesn't fit the bill cinematically. But while it's hard to imagine getting hooked on this kind of movie, addicts never think they'll become dependent.

(Released by Lions Gate Films and rated “R” for strong violence, pervasive language, sexuality, nudity and drug use.)