There are some good reasons why the name of Wes Craven's new movie was changed from "Scary Movie" to "Scream." First, it's not scary, and second, after seeing it, you may scream at yourself for wasting your time and money.

Abetted by screenwriter Kevin Williamson, Craven grafts supposedly camp humor onto slasher movie cliches in an attempt to create a new genre of thriller. But this Frankenstein's Monster project isn't particularly funny, clever or scary, it's just insultingly dumb.

With this dopey and thrill-less slasher flick/black comedy, Craven - perhaps the most overrated horror director around (remember "The Hills Have Eyes," "Swamp Thing" or "Shocker"?) - may have finally put a stake in his 25-year career.

In fact, in light of "Scream" and "Vampire in Brooklyn" - the Eddie Murphy comedy-horror dud - there could be a case made that "Wes Craven" is actually an anonymous nom de plume for horror directors who don't want their real names on a project (kind of like the way directors use the "Alan Smithee" name for bad dramas or comedies).

The story is ripped from today's, er, yesterday's, headlines, as a serial killer is stalking high school students - after he practically bores them to death with menacing phone calls. His latest target is Sidney Prescott (Neve Campbell, from TV's "Party of Five"), whose mother was gruesomely slain just a year ago.

Sidney, though, manages to escape the killer's bumbling first attempt and actually implicates her boyfriend, Billy Loomis (Skeet Ulrich), who is arrested for the assault. But wouldn't you know, the phone threats and killings continue, even with a suspect behind bars.

The mayhem even spreads to the school campus, where the murderer manages to knock off the principal (Henry Winkler at his dorkiest). Naturally, that doesn't stop these horny, besotted teens from holding a huge house party, giving the killer a veritable smorgasbord of targets to choose from.

These situations might be interesting if any of the characters were even slightly sympathetic or if Craven didn't keep switching gears between humor and horror, seem-ing-ly without reason.

Of course, it helps that he's working from Williamson's inept script, which trots out every horror cliche imaginable - including the bit about a cat jumping out! - in hopes of getting a chuckle or scream. He even makes the mistake of having the killer stalk Sidney too soon, instead of building the suspense.

On top of the embarrassingly bad writing and directing, there are also some very amateurish performances, especially from Winkler, Courtney Cox and Drew Barrymore, who doesn't survive the film's first 10 minutes.

"Scream" is rated R for ample bloody violence and gore, some of it in a supposed "slapstick" style, profanity, some vulgar gags and references, and one somewhat discreet sex scene.