Blood & Chocolate gives the tired image of the lycanthrope a makeover. According to this movie, werewolves can transform whenever they wish, and they also have the power to turn into one-dimensional, overdramatic Eurotrash types. Yessir, Blood & Chocolate is stuck with one of the silliest titles in all of filmdom plus one of the dopiest scripts as well.

After slogging through such duds as Venom and The Woods, the striking Agnes Bruckner suffers her worst horror humiliation yet in this laughable supernatural romance. Bruckner plays Vivian, a young woman who has a secret she's been hiding her entire life: she's a loup-garou, or a werewolf, but not in the traditional monster-movie sense. Being hunted down by humans throughout the years has forced many lycanthropes to flee to Bucharest and live among the pack of a leader named Gabriel (Olivier Martinez, previously seen as Diane Lane's paramour in Unfaithful).

Gabriel has his mind set on making Vivian his latest wife, but our young heroine wants nothing to do with her extended family or their lupine activities, preferring to live the rest of the days in solitude -- until the day she meets Aiden (Hugh Dancy), a dashing American artist doing research for a graphic novel. He falls instantly in love, but although her affections for him are growing, Vivian finds herself conflicted, torn between giving into her feelings for Aiden and keeping him away from her dangerous fellow pack members.

I like to see well-worn horror formulas receive a fresh little twist. For example, Lucky McKee's May did wonders for the Frankenstein story, and Shaun of the Dead gave zombie flicks the pick-me-up they needed. Although I admire Blood & Chocolate's aim to create a horror-tinged take on "Romeo & Juliet," the results don't resemble Shakespeare as much as they do a bad day on the set of "Days of Our Lives." This is a hilariously awful soap opera, corny to the core, one that lacks the good sense to realize it's churning up lots of goofy stuff with a straight face. There's a fine line between generating sympathy for a character afflicted with an unfortunate, supernatural curse and, in the case of werewolves, someone prancing all over the screen with fur and fangs.

Blood & Chocolate doesn't even give you the chance to chuckle at any cheesy make-up effects, because there aren't any. The flick's high-and-mighty attitude toward reinventing the werewolf movie includes having them transform by taking a swan dive in the air as humans and exploding into light before landing as wolves. The script calls this a "transcendence," but I call it a word that rhymes with "mull mit." Blood & Chocolate's pretentious attitude is its downfall. Cast members are not allowed to relax and have fun with the story. Instead, they're forced to act out a chintzy,  uninvolving melodrama for 98 painful minutes.

Granted, the scenery here is gorgeous, as is Bruckner, who's making it a habit to be the best thing in the bad movies she appears in (see Stateside and Blue Car for evidence). But. sadly, the cast ranges from personality-free guys like Dancy and over-the-top actors like Martinez and Bryan Dick, who, as Gabriel's scheming son, gives the type of performance that would make Snidely Whiplash want to adopt him.

Most bad movies combine terrible writing, miscast actors, and slipshod direction. However, because of its serious attempt to be a really "good film" and failing miserably at it, Blood & Chocolate isn't just bad -- it's pitiful.

MY RATING: * (out of ****)

(Released by Sony Pictures Home Entertainment and rated "PG-13" for violence/terror, some sexuality and substance abuse.)