ΒιΆΉΤΌΕΔ

Denzel Washington's directorial debut is a true-life tale that could bore for America. A mind-numbing, soul-deadeningly dull experience, it is a miracle of mediocrity, a small wonder: how can anything be quite this tedious?

To pre-empt whinges from anguished fans, that Washington has decided to direct is not a problem. Several actors - Woody Allen, Clint Eastwood, Sean Penn - have stepped behind the camera to become distinguished, or at least interesting, filmmakers.

However, puncturing Washington's otherwise impressive filmography, pictures such as "The Preacher's Wife" and "John Q" point to a weakness for sentimental, idiotic drivel. And it's his choice of just such a project, not his job-swapping, that is the problem here.

Antwone Fisher (Derek Luke) is a raw navy recruit who gets into trouble as often as others get out of bed. After his latest bout of fisticuffs, he's assigned to psychiatrist Jerome Davenport (Washington), who must discover if the kid's a troublemaker, or just troubled.

So, what's bugging Antwone? After a couple of silent sessions (hello, "Good Will Hunting"), we find out, as he flashes back to a nightmare childhood. Abandoned by his mother, dad dead, minders abusive - no wonder he fancies a fight. Perhaps if he finds his mom, he can also find peace?

You won't care. In fact, it's a testament to how poorly written the banal, Fisher-penned script is, that despite all his misfortune, you begin to hate him for making you sit through it.

Luke does what he can with a no-dimensional character and Washington at least avoids the first-time director trap of showing off with the camera. However, his point-and-shoot style further exposes the deficits of the near non-existent, TV-movie-of-the-week story.

There is not a single shocking, surprising, or even mildly diverting, moment, in this predictable, clichΓ©-ridden, bland, self-consciously worthy waste of time. Like cinematic shock treatment, it'll leave you zombified.