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“Little Black Book” is truly the most schizophrenic movie I've had the agony of sitting through. My head was spinning (not literally, thank you very much) as the movie wildly ricocheted from being a comedy to a drama to a feel-good self-exploration film to an indictment of TV talk shows to a misguided statement on technology and dating. The problem with something like this that's so disjointed, something that tries to be too many things, is that it never connects on any one level. It's like watching eight movies spliced together by a sadistic editor who loves to make audiences squirm in discomfort.

The set-up for this film leaves a lot to be desired. How likely is it that a good-looking, intelligent, heterosexual man is going to go through 30 years of life and not have a few ex-girlfriends? Yet when the main character (Brittany Murphy as Stacy) finds out her boyfriend Derek (Ron Livingston) has a few exs then –gasp! – it's all too much to handle. She must do everything she can to destroy any trust and any semblance of a relationship with this guy. And because we, the audience, have only seen Derek as basically an all-around, genuinely nice person, we can't understand what pushes Stacy off the deep end. So he didn't disclose the fact he once dated a supermodel. That would mean it's okay to sneak around, lie, and interrogate his ex-girlfriends under false pretenses? Not only does the whole scenario seem unlikely, it's just a rotten statement to be making about women in general.

For a romantic comedy like this to work, you have to at least like the main characters a little bit. As Stacy, Murphy is wasted. She runs herself ragged trying to be everything this script calls for her to be, and that makes watching her extremely uncomfortable. Ron Livingston as the boyfriend with a history makes the most of the little he's given. He doesn't take the role beyond the two-dimensional way it was scripted, but you'd like to think given a few more scenes, he might have been able to salvage a little something worth watching. The only real enjoyable character is Bob. Bob's a dog, and once again Hollywood has given some of the best moments in a film to a furry, four-legged actor. Bob does well since he's not expected to deliver any jokes. He's only expected to look adorable and give the film a way of moving the plot forward as Murphy discusses her actions with her boyfriend's dog, instead of just letting the audience figure out for themselves what's going on.

I'm of the opinion the actors in this were given one script to begin with and then switched a totally different script about a quarter of the way through filming. If that's not the case, then it's a total mystery to me why Holly Hunter, Brittany Murphy, Kathy Bates, and everyone else involved in this jumbled mess would sign on to the project.

And while I'm going off about the cast, the script, and what the heck happened on the way to creating this mishmash of genres and styles, what's with Holly Hunter's character smoking? It's an obvious crutch to move along scenes that otherwise would have no real topic. And can someone please explain to me why two grown women would, in the middle of a serious conversation, just suddenly break out and dance for no apparent reason? Oh yeah, we women do that all the time. Sorry, what was I thinking?

The idea of a woman deciding to do a little investigating into her boyfriend's past dating history by secretly browsing through his Palm Pilot isn't necessarily a terrible idea for a romantic comedy. But with “Little Black Book,” the 'comedy' is too offensive in tone, too mean-spirited to be worthy of investing a few hours watching. What a complete waste of time and talent.

GRADE: D

"Little Black Book" was directed by Nick Hurran and is rated PG-13 for sexual content/humor and language.

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