If M.Night Shyamalan's name as the originator of the film's story isn't enough to alert would-be viewers to its tritely clichéd aspirations, then suffering through this tedious piece of supernatural/religious pap should do the trick of keeping those poor souls away from his work forever more. Five people from various dubious backgrounds get stuck in the elevator of a Philadelphia high-rise office building just moments after someone committed suicide from the 35th floor. Squeaky plot devices abound. The lights in the surveillance-equipped elevator inexplicably go out at regular intervals, allowing unseen harm to gradually come to each of the riders. An unseen narrator interrupts with some half-baked story his mother used to tell him about the Devil. When "He's around, the toast falls jelly-side down." Such high-school freshman dialogue is in ample supply in a laughably stupid film that you'd be better off sneaking out of at the multi-plex to go watch anything else available. It's sure to be better than this piece of disposable cinematic garbage.
Rated PG-13. 80 mins. (F) (Zero Stars)