Not quite God-awful, but awful suffices nonetheless. Greg Kinnear and Rebecca Romijn-Stamos lose their eight-year-old son in a car-on-pedestrian accident (no time is wasted getting to the deed, unlike, say, The Punisher, also with Romijn-Stamos), and are approached by a fertility doctor (Robert De Niro) who claims he can clone their son. Flashforward eight years, give Cameron Bright a new haircut, and they have Adam (II), now the same age as when the original was killed; only now, he has begun suffering from what may be night terrors.Or maybe he’s suffering from prescient visions? Or maybe he’s suffering from something directly related to the cloning? (Memories of what previously happened? Someone else’s memories?)
Whatever it is, we are sure to sludge through the possibilities with yawning consequences. Apart from a creepy set-up or two (the claustrophobia of the wooden shed), notwithstanding the jolting assistance of the score, director Nick Hamm moves about maintaining the thrill-less atmosphere strictly by-the-book, and with the script often helping to dismiss logical qualms such as the secrecy behind the cloning project, their relocation, time-ignorant travel, deserted locales, and other cliché counterparts (i.e., why does everyone speak in whispers?).
Even the presence of De Niro serves as no call for legitimacy (though a movie exploring his motivations and back story come across as far more intriguing than this), helpless next to an unconvincing Romijn-Stamos and Kinnear, who has never been much of an actor in the first place.[Not to be bothered with.]