Former Rep. Ben Jones, the original Cooter, has denounced the new “Dukes of Hazzard” for its “profanity laced script” and “blatant sexual situations.” But he hasn’t seen it. I have. And having sat through this dreary and joyless mess, I can tell old Cooter that in a production this dull, a few more blatant sexual situations would have been very welcome indeed. As for the profanity in the script, it was nothing compared with the expletives really needed to describe a film so dreadful that, by the end, I was hoping the General Lee would be crushed by a Sherman tank – shipped in, perhaps, from a nearby war movie.

The problem is not that this film is dumb (although it is), but that it is mean-spirited, graceless, and lacking in any charm whatsoever. The television series was not exactly egghead fare, but its witless, cheerful joie de vivre and the easy rapport between its characters made it, at its best, a lot of fun.

The movie, by contrast, is oddly harsh (both Rosco and Hogg are far nastier than in the original), and painfully contrived. There’s no chemistry at all between Bo and Luke, though they can barely get into a car without hollerin’; poor Daisy is reduced to a rent-a-siren, and even the inevitable brawl at the Boar’s Nest comes across as an over-choreographed effort to go one broken bottle further than every other movie bar fight.

On the bright side, there are a few good jokes, some decent car chases, and a delightful performance by Kevin Heffernan as bait salesman, conspiracy theorist, and weirdo. The rest of the cast (including Burt Reynolds, who should have known better) appear to do as little as they can get away with, possibly to avoid embarrassing Jessica Simpson, who is a feast for the eyes but a famine for the brain. Poor dear, she cannot act at all. Nevertheless, she’s probably the only reason to see this film.

Sorry, Congressman.