With a cast like Gene Hackman, Dustin Hoffman, John Cusack and Rachel Weisz, even a film student from Podunk University could make a fantastic movie.

Too bad director Gary Fleder isn’t from Podunk.

The story is simple; two years after a shooting in an office, a widow takes a gun manufacturer to trial. The people of the city and the court system are mostly one-dimensional characters. From the do-no-wrong prosecutor (Hoffman with his best “Tootsie” accent) to the devil incarnate defense attorney (Bruce Davison), the only actor able to breathe life into his character is Hackman playing Rankin Fitch — jury purchaser extraordinaire.

Rankin is hired by the defense to do one job — make sure they have the jury in their pocket. Rankin knows every single detail of each jury member, down to what toenail clipper he or she uses.

Every jury member, that is, except for Nicholas Easter, who is played by Cusack. He has his own plans for the jury. With the help of Marlee (Weisz), the two brainstorm the brilliant idea of selling the jury to the highest bidder. You would think super-sleuth Rankin, who can tell a person’s personality to the tee by the objects in a person’s car, would figure out that Easter is not a sure bet.

Needless to say, there are some twists and turns as sharp and exciting as taking a right on a country road with your grandma.

Usually in a courtroom drama, the majority of the film is the trial, unless the trail to the trial is exceptionally powerful like “A Few Good Men,” in which the film builds up to the final courtroom showdown. Fleder decides to take a new approach, making a heist film about three parties trying to coerce the jury.

In a year of disappointing films by accomplished directors, this film stands alone: a disappointing film by a disappointing director. Instead of stealing the audience’s heart, Fleder only manages to steal the viewer’s $7.

The confrontation of Hoffman vs. Hackman should have been a meeting of two of the greatest actors in our generation, equivalent to Robert De Niro vs. Al Pacino in “Heat.” However, thanks to the “expert” direction of Fleder, it feels as though the actors are on separate sets. There are so many jump cuts, close-ups and quick jumps, it feels like Fleder has attention deficit disorder.

It’s ironic the final scene was shot in the bathroom, because the crap that was in the toilet must have seeped into the reels of the film. Jury tampering is a subject that, under a creative director and screenwriter, has potential for a riveting dramatic film. There are moral implications that can be poked and examined. This would, however, require realistic characters, and not buffons such as the ones found in “Runaway Jury.”

Whether you go to this film because you ignored my warning or your roommate made you mad and you want to extract some revenge by subjugating him or her to this steaming pile, take a second and go peek into another theater. Remember — you could be having a good time, but instead, you chose to see “Runaway Jury.”