Most of Boogeyman consists of 7th Heaven star Barry Watson walking around, thinking about opening doors. He has had a closet case of closet-a-phobia, you see, ever since his dad was eaten by a closet, or by the Boogeyman who lives in the closet and under the bed. So, ever since that fateful day, Barry's been afraid of closets, as his incongruously hot girlfriend (Emily Deschanel) discovers when she asks him to get her coat and he becomes petrified with fear.

Every once in a while he sees something scary like a ghost or a little kid -- What's so scary about little kids? Can someone please explain this to me? -- and then freaks out and travels through time or, when more convenient, the closet, to see various friends and family members elaborately killed by said Boogeyman.

There's a difference between getting startled and getting scared.

Startled is what happens when a nearby balloon unexpectedly pops. Scared is when every ounce of one's being is enveloped by a penetrating fear that is impossible to run or even look away from.

Boogeyman, like most modern "horror" movies is content to give us a few startles, but won't give a soul a single nightmare.

Instead, director Stephen Kay belongs to the school of horror filmmaking that employs the silence/sudden loud sound cliché at every conceivable opportunity. If you're willing to pay $5.25 to see this cliché endlessly repeat itself and Barry Watson open an impressive amount of doors, then Boogeyman is your ticket to paradise.

This was the No. 1 movie in America last week. Now that's scary.

-- Reviewed by Nicholas Norcia