DISTURBIA
PG-13, 104 minutes

If Alfred Hitchcock made “Rear Window” in today’s Hollywood, odds are good it would end up looking a lot like “Disturbia.” Of course, D.J. Caruso is no Hitchcock, and “Disturbia” is less a tribute than a stark reminder of where we’ve gone wrong (starting with this extraordinary violent film’s PG-13 rating, perhaps the MPAA’s most egregious abdication of duty ever).

Fans of “Rear Window” will recognize the setup almost instantly: Kale (Shia LaBeouf ) is trapped in his home, the result of a house arrest sentence incurred after he punched his high school Spanish teacher. Played with an annoyed — and thus believable — ambivalence by Mr. LaBeouf, Kale considers his imprisonment a joke, turning to every distraction (video games, music downloads, sugar) in the teenager handbook. Increasingly isolated, he turns to a more traditional tool — binoculars — and a more traditional distraction: eavesdropping on his neighbors, particularly the young, blond Ashley (Sarah Roemer), who just moved in next door.

The drama emanates from the home of Mr. Turner (David Morse), where strange nightly happenings — a bloody, dented fender on the car, blood splattered on an upstairs window, strange bags being carried in and out — lead Kale, Ashley, and wacky best friend Ronnie (Aaron Yoo) to organize a revolving stakeout.

Only once in my life have I heard a woman scream uncontrollably in a movie theater, and it was at the pivotal moment in “Rear Window” when a man being spied on across the street suddenly turns to look back into the camera — back at us, leering from afar. But in “Disturbia,” Mr. Caruso pulls that joker from the deck less than halfway through the game, opting out of psychological suspense to rely instead on a parade of race-againstthe-clock sequences dependent on such things as digital video cameras, text messages, and even a menacing stroll through a suburban Home Depot (“he’s shopping for shovels,” Ashley whispers as she takes photos with her cell).

“Distrubia” may be flashier and bloodier, but it’s also as mediocre as thrillers come nowadays. No one screamed this time in the movie theater; a few did leave early.

S. James Snyder

THE GLAMOROUS LIFE OF SACHIKO HANAI
Unrated, 91 minutes

With last weekend’s release of “Grindhouse” kicking up a sudden surge of interest in exploitation movies, it’s fitting that a Japanese pink film is getting a theatrical release in New York.

The director Mitsuru Meike, who started in 2003 with a story called “Horny Home Tutor: Teacher’s Love Juice,” added more plot to his pink flick and turned it into “The Glamorous Life of Sachiko Hanai,” the story of a hooker (Emi Kuroda) who gets shot in the head and is transformed into a genius by the bullet lodged in her brain. The plotlines get as tangled as sweaty sheets in a cheap motel when she stumbles across a metal case containing President Bush’s finger and subsequently runs afoul of North Korean terrorists.

The film, which opens tonight at Cinema Village, features regular bouts of sex and a plot that moves in fits and starts. Ms. Kuroda underplays her role convincingly, and despite the volatile combo of politics, fellatio, and violence, the movie feels downright sweet. It could be the start of a new genre: political porn.

Grady Hendrix