Sensationalizing violence to cater to the bloodthirsty mainstream has been done. It's even been done artistically and relatively tastefully, as proven by too-smart-for-their-own-good directors like Quentin Tarantino and Oliver Stone.

But Wayne Kramer's "Running Scared," in contrast, delivers nothing artistic and nothing tasteful, instead overusing both violence and the f-bomb to establish itself as an embarrassment to the entire film industry. It's a crass and demoralizing piece that leaves its audience feeling duped, pissed and not at all scared.

The film stars the blue-eyed blonde Paul Walker ("Eight Below") as Joey Gazelle, a low-level Italian mobster and quasi-devoted husband/father. Ordered by his associates to dispose of the gun that killed undercover cops in a drug-deal gone awry, Gazelle instead, for an undisclosed reason, stashes the weapon in his basement. His 10 year-old neighbor, Oleg (Cameron Bright, "Birth") uncovers the gun's location and uses it to wound his abusive stepfather, a John-Wayne obsessed nephew of a Russian mob ringleader.

On a hunt to find the "Running Scared" fugitive Oleg and the accompanying weapon, Gazelle and his own son, Nicky (newcomer Alex Neuberger), spend the night battling twist after turn and unfortunate coincidence after unfortuante coincidence.

Racing against two different mobs, crystal meth manufacturers, crooked cops, pimps and prostitutes, Gazelle and son find themselves active participants in a bloody, tangled and politically-incorrect adveture — one that is still left unclear by the film's long-awaited end.

Guns, knifes and bleeding from the mouth are delivered in droves, but if the excessive violence won't make the audience cringe, then certainly the exaggerated and absolutely obnoxious, fake New Jersey accents will. The New Jersey Department of Tourism could successfully issue a lawsuit against Kramer on account of defamation, as the movie depicts the state to be populated solely by shady, gun-crazed, grammar-incompetent mob affiliates.

But it's not just the gunshots that roar through the New Jersey night. Kramer must have also heard that nasty rumor that sex is also quite a seller. "Running Scared" is far from a sexy movie, but yet still manages to push the R-rating with an abundance of sexual connotations, some a little more innocuous than others. A convient meeting at a strip club, for example, means plenty of full-frontal nudity, including a millisecond shot of one nipple consuming the entire screen.

And then there's the sick twist involving the pedophiles. Hiding in an unlocked van unfortunately owned by a facially innocent but internally morbid couple, Oleg finds himself a victim of potentially deadly child pornography.

Kramer tucks this scene in right at the film's middlemark and, provoking no stab at social commentary, it is simply a perverse, uncomical relief from the fractured plot. Inserted simply for its shock value, it lowers Kramer from a Tarantino-inspired amateur to a heartless, money-hungry, do-whatever-they-tell-me ventriloquist.

What's even worse than the movie's mangled plot, excessive violence and meaningless sex is Kramer's feeble attempt to mask the film's hideousness with unusual camera angles and layered perspectives. But even an untrained eye can deduce that the shaky camera movements are more likely a result of a hand tremor than cinematic creativity.

Probably a teacher's pet at film school, Kramer decided the best way to follow his decently-praised 2003 film "The Cooler" would be to show off every editing, lighting and fusing trick he learned as a freshman. He likely spent so much time in the editing room that he lacked the energy to fine-tune the script and instead added profanity whenever the dialogue sounded a little dry.

Void of almost any profound substance, "Running Scared" offers little more than slow-motion death scenes and black-lit hockey pucks to the face. The only political statement the South African born Kramer conveyed in his movie is that of over-hyped nationalism.

The first time the Russian-bred Oleg shows any sign of happiness is when Gazelle belittles Russian music and forces the kid to aggressively repeat, "I am an American." And the film closes in a quintessential-American, pastoral setting complete with a close-up of the American flag. Despite the trigger-happy pimps, pedophiles and drug dealers, America is a beautiful place to live … once all the Italians and Russians are dead.

Slated as Paul Walker's best work yet — which doesn't mean a whole lot — "Running Scared" is, quite simply, pornography. More obscene than most NC-17 films, it is a cheap, manipulative attempt to steal money from law-abiding individuals.

Minus the trailer for "The DaVinci Code" and quick peek at Walker's bare backside, "Running Scared" is a fall-down-the-stairs flop. It scars the audience, embarrasses the country and will haunt Kramer for the rest of his Hollywood life.

Rating: 1 out of 5