“Changing Lanes,” why have you forsaken me so?

I couldn’t have been more hyped by your flashy, action-packed previews. The story of revenge over a fender bender taken to exponentially nasty means played out by Samuel L. Jackson’s famous fiery bitterness and the dreamy veneer of Ben Affleck is just what I needed in these dog days of the spring semester. I wasn’t looking for a life-changing flick, just a good time, a release and a pretty face.

But, oh, the misleading nature of the trailer.

They say the first 10 minutes of a film are the key to winning an audience. Heeding those words, I should have left and caught the beginning of “Van Wilder,” a “Citizen Kane” in comparison. “Changing Lanes” begins by cross-cutting between the lives of hot-shot Wall Street lawyer Gavin (Affleck, “Pearl Harbor”) and down-on his luck, recovering alcoholic Doyle (Jackson, “Unbreakable”). But it’s too quick, reveals little character information and fails to establish a connection.

This hurts the film in the long run. Despite his trademark kick-ass-ness, we don’t care if Jackson succeeds. Once we learn of the corruption of Gavin’s firm, we don’t want him to win either. What’s even more aggravating is the fact that Gavin has an easy way out, (what they in the business call “fraud”), but fails to take it on the basis of ethics. These so-called ethics, however, go out the door when it comes to screwing over Doyle.

The inconsistencies in character are matched by the inadequacy of Affleck’s acting ability. Hollywood needs to stop fooling itself — this guy is a hack. “Bounce” anyone? His teary-eyed moments of moral struggle and House of Pain “fronting” are laughable, as is the films excruciatingly slow pace and script. And the notion of a wealthy white man redeeming a poor black man is a little 1940s for my taste.

All I wanted was some shady, underhanded scheming, Jackson’s bulging eyes and flaring nostrils, and maybe a shattered window or two. Is this too much to ask?

Evidently it is. In essentially the same role in the infinitely better film “The Negotiator,” Jackson stands in the window-way of a shot-out pane and shouts in his groan-y growl, “You want my blood?! You want my blood?! Come and take it! Because I am NOT going to jail today.”

But no such chills here. The closest we get is a scene in which Jackson yanks the computer from his loan officer’s desk, chucks it across the office, only to have it bounce off the window. Taste the disappointment.

But this befits a film that, starting at the previews, evokes an excitement that ends in sheer dissatisfaction.

Grade:C