Hollywood's ingenuity (or lack thereof) never ceases to amaze me. You can always count on a director to take a preposterous premise and make a mainstream movie out of it. Such is the case with Along Came A Spider, based on what I am sure is a fine, best-selling novel by James Patterson.

Picture this: The daughter of some obscure politician is kidnapped one day by her teacher, Gary Soneji (Michael Wincott), at a posh D.C. academy. But Soneji's not really after the little girl-he's involved in an international conspiracy, a.k.a. "the crime of the century." Duh! So he contacts Detective Alex Cross (Morgan Freeman), because he is not after money-it's fame he wants, and Cross, being a renowned author and psychological profiler, is the perfect person to make sure that the book never closes on Soneji's self-declared evil deeds.

Except Cross does not do all that much profiling in this movie, which is surprisingly short on psychology and long on just about everything else. Conveniently knocked out of "retirement" after his partner is killed in an excruciatingly melodramatic sting-operation-gone-wrong, Cross goes through all the moves in tracking down Soneji. But we are never given any hint that Cross is actually probing the depths of Soneji's brain and trying to figure out how he works. Or, maybe it is because Soneji is so obvious Cross doesn't even need to.

Less obvious is Cross's new "partner," Jezzie Flannigan (Monica Potter). Cross is smart enough to figure out that there is more to Flannigan than meets the eye: she is not the sophisticated, compassionate, professional Secret Service agent she first appears to be. Flannigan takes the word "professional" to another level entirely, transforming halfway through the movie from one unconvincing role to another. First, she is caring, wide-eyed, in awe of Cross, then suddenly she is cruel and contemptuous in a plot twist worthy of the trashy swamp thriller Wild Things. But that's divulging too much already.

What makes Along Came A Spider such a travesty is the fact that it fails even at formula. Cross may be an expert profiler, but Soneji is no "spider"-only a deluded man with deluded dreams of fame. When he confronts Cross, crying and blaming his parents for not being there for him, his cheap trauma complex is enough to make anybody grimace in disgust. This supposedly cool, calculating kidnapper is nothing but a whiny little boy filled with self-pity. Now who wants someone like that to go down in history?

It is no wonder that the plot makes some wild swerves after this, trying to sidestep Soneji's pathetic whimpering and save Along Came A Spider from its inevitable demise. Unfortunately, the screenplay does not succeed-in fact, the movie is not even scary. Instead of relying on the actors' performances to convey tension and apprehension, director Lee Tamahori seems to be acknowledging the limited talents of his cast by inundating his audience with Jerry Goldsmith's overly ominous score.

One exception to the otherwise humdrum cast is Freeman, who has become something of an archetypal psychologist-detective-figure in the past five years, with roles in both Kiss the Girls and Seven. Seven, on the other hand, actually had what it takes to be a gutsy, successful movie; good acting and good direction, not to mention an interesting premise. Although Freeman is undeniably irreproachable as the brooding, shrewd criminologist, Hollywood can do with a little variety. Let us just hope he does not feel the need to reprise any of these I-am-an-intelligent-policeman roles in the near future, especially roles that require him to run around answering cell phones in garbage cans at some hack crook's command.

Unfortunately not the same can be said for Potter. Her portrayal of Flannigan is as farcical as the character's name itself, and if her recent role in Head Over Heels can be taken into consideration, it is easy to see that her dramatic abilities need more than a little, um, improvement. If Soneji is living proof that "a mind is a terrible thing," then Potter is living proof that a pretty face with nothing to back it up is a wonderful thing that can get you a starring role across Freeman in a major Hollywood film. Her pert, perpetually undisturbed blondness gets painfully monotonous about three scenes after she first enters.

Between Potter's petty pouts and the grossly implausible plot twists, exacerbated by the clumsy adaptation, it looks like this shabby attempt at thrills and chills will be quickly relegated to the "been there, done that" pile. What with rampant murders, prosthetic faces, and a thermos full of diamonds thrown out a train window (don't ask), Along Came A Spider verges on the absurd. One would at least think that Freeman is talented and dependable enough to be able to choose better movies. Or maybe screenwriter Marc Moss just has to learn that what may be good on the page is not necessarily good when transferred to the screen.