Movies have improved a lot over the last decade or so. The 1980s were largely a dark period for feature films full of “cookie-cutter” projects, uninspired stories and blas‚ mind candy.

Everything Michael J. Fox ever did comes to mind.

Luckily for us, the groupthink that determines trends now determines that filmmakers come up with something new and unusual.

Sure, we still get the tried and true action formula thrown at us once in a while, but even that genre has gotten a bit more intelligent with the thanks of master thespian Bruce Willis.

Unfortunately, there are still some old-school hacks crawling around like Diane Keaton. Keaton’s unique style of unimaginative, gyno-centric pabulum peaked and should have died with “Baby Boom.”

Keaton has done more to set the women’s movement back in this country than all the Southern Baptists and Promise Keepers in the world.

Still she lingers on planning for the day the Lifetime channel can no longer count on Meredith Baxter-Birney movies.

Like Nosferatu, Keaton has risen from her murky tomb, ended her sleep of the living dead to prey once again upon the living in one of the most horrific films produced so far this millennium, “Hanging Up.”

Sometimes, you just know you are in for a world of hurt, but you can’t stop yourself from going into that theater and asking for a ticket.

Every cell might scream out “No! What are you doing? Go see an action flick for the love of god!” But you shell out the bread for two hours of something you could have gotten for free on CBS.

Let’s get the painful story out of the way so we can concentrate on other matters. “Hanging Up” is the less than intriguing tale of three annoying, self-centered sisters played by Lisa Kudrow, Meg Ryan and Diane Keaton who take turns caring for their elderly father played by Walter Matthau.

Dad is getting nuttier and nuttier as the years pass. He takes turns living with one daughter after the other. They don’t get along much, but Dad’s insanity has peaked and the sisters must now work together to keep him in line.

So, it’s yet another one of those three-women-find-their-strength-by-banding-together movies. Haven’t seen one of those since “The First Wives Club.”

Basically, it’s a situation comedy on the big screen and not a very interesting one at that. Sitcoms are dying on the tube, why pay money to watch one on screen?

Let’s start with the casting. Blonde, blonder and blondest or dumb, dumber and dumbest? Take your pick. Mix and match because either way you have hit the nail on the head. I’m sure Keaton thought her choices were brilliant, but this is just one more reason why she should never be allowed to make a film again — ever.

Watching Lisa Kudrow, Meg Ryan and Diane Keaton mince it up is like having a triple scoop ice cream cone of vanilla, French vanilla and New York vanilla. It isn’t worth the time it takes to consume.

They all act the same, they are all vapid wastes of skin, and if the Judgment Day is ever at hand, they could all ride with Goldie Hawn as the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse collecting souls for Satan. People will see them coming and give up the ghost instantly.

And bad dialogue? You know how you wonder what people are talking about at other tables in restaurants? When you do overhear what they are saying, you realize it’s just as boring as your conversation. Take that scenario and multiply it by a factor of 10 and you come close to a reasonable facsimile of how dull this movie is.

It’s like walking into a convention of high-pitched, narcissistic whiners with more style than brain cells. These highly successful, selfish women just aren’t interesting!

This movie is like being stuck in traffic for two hours except you see fewer people talking on their car phones in the real world than in this movie.

Walter Matthau is the most interesting person on screen; that should tell you just how bad this movie is.

Over the course of his career, Matthau may be considered a god, but in recent years he just makes you tired to watch him on screen. Funny though he is, he belongs to another time and doesn’t translate well to younger audiences. He should quit while he is still thought of fondly.

This film should come with a warning from the surgeon general’s office: Watching this film can be dangerous if you are prone to fits of depression, suicide or narcolepsy.

Don’t waste a second on this film unless you are looking for a good reason to end it all because even the happiest, most optimistic moviegoer will come away with their reason for being dismantled by a film that should have been made in 1988, gone straight to video and had all copies rounded up and destroyed by 1989.

One-half Star

Rating based on a 5 Star scale

Greg Jerrett is a graduate student in English from Council Bluffs