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Sadly, Urban Legend will be another forgotten entry into the teen horror revival fad of the late 1990's, and with good reason.
Despite putting together one of the better ensembles of young actors (basically, it's all the leftovers from hip TV shows that haven't yet been slaughtered on camera, including My So-Called Life's Jared Leto), a really dumb script and lifeless direction causes Urban Legend to fail the singular, critical test of horror films: It's not scary.
Even the 'hip jokes' are not hip, and they're not funny.... In fact, it's only the self-referential humor (a rumor about 'that girl in that Noxzema commercial,' referring to Gayheart; a blip of Paula Cole's signature tune when Jackson (of TV's Dawson's Creek) flips on the radio) that keeps Urban Legend above a total disaster.
The plot is something about a serial killer reenacting a bunch of urban legends (guy with axe in back seat, killer calling on a phone inside the house, et al.), but it's barely memorable. It isn't scary in any case.
Of course, the only reason I even bothered to see this film is because it stars the radiant Alicia Witt, who I could watch for two hours doing the laundry. In fact, I think I would have preferred the movie be completely about Witt doing her laundry.... I'll have to pitch that to a studio someday. But I digress.
Anyway, Alicia, I forgive you. I hope Hollywood does.
