GEORGIA RULE — * — Lindsay Lohan, Jane Fonda, Felicity Huffman; rated R (sex, vulgarity, profanity).

With "Georgia Rule," Lindsay Lohan has made her "Gigli."

That's partly because it's as epically awful as that notorious 2003 bomb starring the artist formerly known as Bennifer. Primarily, though, it's because Lohan's well-documented off-camera antics are such a distraction, as Jennifer Lopez and Ben Affleck's were, it's impossible to become engrossed in the film.

Although she shares the screen with acting heavyweights Jane Fonda and Felicity Huffman, Lohan is the one who, for better and worse, grabs our attention. Strutting around a small Idaho town in oversize aviator sunglasses, stylish off-the-shoulder tops, skinny jeans and wedges, her party-girl character Rachel looks, sounds and acts like ... well, like Lindsay Lohan.

Rachel is constantly getting into trouble and in need of rescue. She's too skinny, she rarely eats. There have been some substance abuse problems in the past, even though she's barely out of high school. And yet, despite the chaos that constantly surrounds her and her family, she always manages to look stunningly hip. She even wears fake eyelashes at the breakfast table.

Then, of course, we all walk into "Georgia Rule" with the knowledge that this is the movie that earned Lohan an ugly, public reprimand from James G. Robinson, the Morgan Creek Productions CEO who wrote a letter scolding her for her absences during shooting.

All that, however, wears off eventually. And then you are left, for a very long time, with a film that is chock-full of dysfunctional family cliches — a hodgepodge of histrionics that's just painfully shrill to endure.

The massively contrived script comes from Mark Andrus (an Oscar nominee for "As Good As It Gets" who also wrote the treacly "Life As a House" and "Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood"), which Garry Marshall directs with a surprising lack of tonal focus for such a veteran. "Georgia Rule" is all over the place, veering awkwardly between high physical comedy and dark family drama. Both extremes are cringe-inducing.

Too often it plays like a sitcom about three generations of eccentric women, complete with jaunty little musical interludes as segues between scenes — except that its plot revolves around an allegation of sexual abuse. Good times.

Fonda, as the Georgia of the title, must make sense of all this madness as the movie's matriarch. She's rigid about yard work and dinnertime (6 p.m. sharp). No taking the Lord's name in vain around her: She will literally make you wash out your mouth with soap (how's that for hackneyed yuks?). She still looks great in a T-shirt and jeans, though — still got those Jane Fonda Workout biceps.