The problem with Red Riding Hood isn't that it's so bad, but that it's so bland and uninvolving. It passes before your eyes and despite some lovely cinematography and compositions, it's a snooze.
Amanda Seyfried lives in a medieval village where she's in love with a poor woodsman, but here mother has arranged that she marry the blacksmith's boy. (Both of these vapid twits are typical 21st Century boy-men with no acting skill, better suited for a CW show.) The werewolf that has terrorized the town for generations has killed her sister, prompting them to summon werewolf-killing priest Gary Oldman, who is your go-to guy when you want some scenery mauled with dignity, not Nic Cage style.
Fr. Gary says the wolf is in the town, hiding amongst them and blah-blah-woof-woof. Amanda gets the titular garment and Twilight director Catherine Hardwicke tries to keep the mystery of who the wolf is going to the point of making the movie into Red Herring Hood. I just couldn't stay focused on the movie because I didn't care.
Score: 3/10. Catch it on cable.
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