I think knowledge of good writing is very helpful to actors. There are some very good actors who pick lousy material for themselves ... If actors can't recognize good writing, then their agent or manager has to do that for them.-- legendary casting director Marion Dougherty

Would someone please get Sandra Bullock a good agent?! For clearly her current impresario has fallen asleep on the job. How else to explain an actress of considerable grace, charm and, yes, acting ability choosing such miserable projects for herself? Bullock's last two efforts, Forces of Nature and Hope Floats, were dull, unremarkable affairs, and her new film, 28 Days, only continues the trend.

In this trip through mediocrity, Sandra is Gwen Cummings, a successful New Yorker who has a serious drinking problem. This becomes clear early on in the movie when she shows up at her sister's wedding wearing a pink taffeta ensemble with...a black bra. Doesn't she realize what an awful clash that makes? No, she doesn't, since she's already halfway to smashed. Gwen and her boyfriend Jasper (Dominic West, A Midsummer Night's Dream) proceed to ruin the reception by dancing wildly (what will the Westchester relatives think?!) and destroying the cake. It all comes to a head when she steals a limo, only to crash it moments later.

Given the option of jail time or 28 days in rehab, Gwen opts for the rustic climes of Serenity Glen. There she's subjected to hand-holding chanting sessions, confrontational group therapy and too many renditions of "Lean on Me." Her 17-year-old roomie (in for a heroin problem) is actually pretty stable; I suspect long, painful periods of withdrawal didn't do so well with the test audiences. And Gwen's counselor, Cornell (Steve Buscemi, Fargo), is calm and soothing in the way all movie therapists are.

Contrary to what the movie's preview may lead you to believe, 28 Days is not a comedy. Sure, there are some funny bits (most of which you've already seen in the commercials), but there's also some humor that is embarrassingly low-brow. At one point, the stock homosexual character points at his crotch and yells admiringly, "Look at my package!" It could only be worse if he had a ridiculous German accent. Oh wait, he does.

Mostly, though, this is a cookie-cutter drama. Character has problem she refuses to confront, character is put in a situation that forces her to do so, character gradually comes to accept and then overcome her problem. Add in some likable sidekicks, subtract out any difficult reality, multiply by a large marketing budget, and watch the totals add up. Or so goes the old math in Hollywood. Sometimes, the formula actually works and produces an entertaining movie (last year's Runaway Bride, for example), but usually the result is a muddled, uninspired brew that makes you think Hollywood should go into story-line rehab. 28 Days fits into that second category.

The standard critic quip for this film will be something about the movie feeling like it took 28 Days, but that'd be a cheap shot. With Bullock's charming screen presence filling up almost every scene in the movie, it's a highly watchable flick. Unlike her Hollywood counterparts--Julia Roberts, who tends to overpower a movie, and Cameron Diaz, who pixies her adorable self across the screen--Sandra Bullock has the rare ability to carry a scene without ever overshadowing her co-stars.

Unfortunately, her co-stars in 28 Days don't add up to much. All of her fellow patients are flat characters inserted merely to move the plot along. Her boyfriend, a lush who doesn't want to reform, is strangely likable despite being a jerk. Gwen's sister Lily (Elizabeth Perkins, Avalon) is strangely unlikable, despite being the victim. And Cornell the counselor's part feels like it was left on the cutting-room floor. He has a few small scenes, but otherwise is largely absent.

The person to blame for this movie's failings would usually be the screenwriter. But given the job that Susannah Grant did with Erin Brockovich, I'm tempted to give her a pass. Which leaves director Betty Thomas, whose previous screen credits--Dr. Dolittle, The Brady Bunch Movie, and Private Parts--are a pretty good indication of what she does here. Her direction in this film is by-the-books, except when she inserts some awkward soliloquies and a god-awful denouement.

All of which leaves Sandra Bullock holding another dud. She does the best she can: pulls out some fine physical comedy, interacts well with the stock characters she's beset with, and carries the weepy scenes without cracking a sweat. Everything I've seen of Bullock makes me think she could be a fine actress. Unfortunately, we'll have to wait to see the appropriate vehicle.

J. Robert Parks