A psychological thriller starring Jim Carrey? That is the stunt casting that greets viewers in Joel Schumacher’s woefully inept thriller, The Number 23.

Carrey stars as Walter Sparrow, a dog catcher (Ace Ventura, anyone?) who on his birthday is given a novel from his wife (Virginia Madsen) entitled “The Number 23”. Almost immediately, Walter finds a strong resemblance with the books main protagonist Fingerling (also played by Carrey), who develops an obsession with the number 23.

At this point the movie is split into two halves: A sex filled film-noir (the book), and a bumbling murder mystery (real life), with the films actors playing dual roles in both.

In the process the film tries to come off as an intelligent thriller, yet its ludicrous premise (ramblings over a number does not make for intriguing viewing) fail to hold any interest, as reality, fantasy, and nightmares combine to make an incoherent mess. On top of this is a ridiculous twist that – when revealed – does not merit a response since by that time any interest has withered away.

The acting on hand is shocking, led by the terribly miscast Jim Carrey. Although a tremendously talented actor with top notch comic ability and great work is quirky dramas The Truman Show and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Carrey struggles with such serious, supernatural fodder, inadvertently conjuring laughs rather than chills. His game of chicken with a supposed mutt from hell boggles the mind of just how insipidly stupid this film really is.

Oscar nominated actress Virginia Madsen is equally terrible, even though all her role seems to entail is for her to lie on her back while Carrey dry humps her in his tiny whities.   

At his best director Joel Schumacher has created some gripping films with high entertainment value (The Lost Boys, Phone Booth). At his worst he is an over indulgent director (Batman & Robin, Bad Company) who is unable to tell the difference between a film worthy of his talents from crap. The Number 23 belongs in the latter.