'Bringing Down The House' (PG-13) (out of four)

There aren't many genuine moments in the new comedy "Bringing Down The House" -- each joke is carefully calculated not to offend or to offend, depending on which camp the culture of the movie has you swinging in at any given time.

Queen Latifah (the current Hollywood "it" girl), plays a fugitive named Charlene Morton who escapes the slammer and is on a journey to getting her name cleared. Steve Martin is the oh-so-white and uptight upscale lawyer Peter Sanderson whose counsel Charlene seeks.

There set up is typical, but updated. In the high-tech 21st century they meet in an online chat room. Charlene passes herself off to Peter as a lawyer. Pretty soon the inevitable "let's meet" happens. Of course, she's sent Peter a photo of someone thinner, blonder and, of course, whiter. (How many times has this happened to you?)

She shows up on Peter's doorstep. When he finds out what she's really after, he hits the eject button. Trouble is, she's not going anywhere until she gets what she came for.

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Movie Preview: 'Bringing Down The House'

There are so many holes and contradictions in this screenplay by first-time screenwriter Jason Filardi and, yo, yo, we've seen this plot before: Think 1995's "Houseguest" with Phil Hartman and Sinbad.

Although the movie seems determined to crush racial stereotypes with humor (wink, wink), it further typifies the racial divide. "Bringing Down The House," whether intentionally or not, wants to believe that white people are the ones who live in Class A neighborhoods, have jobs as corporate tax lawyers, live in all white neighborhoods and drive new Mercedes Benz. Blacks, on the other hand, come from the 'hood, have just gotten out or are in jail, smoke dope, play craps, and only know how to solve problems by pulling a gun or giving a good "bitch slap." Sound funny to you?

The fact that this top-notch cast manages to at least keep filmgoers entertained for 121 minutes is a credit to them. Lady Joan Plowright (the widow of Sir Laurence Olivier) goes lowbrow playing a prejudiced heiress who adds to the mix by singing a slave song while Latifah struts around in a maid's uniform. (The only way she can be accepted by Martin's uptight boss and billionaire client is to pose as a nanny or maid. Can someone say this movie is "oh, so yesterday.")

Betty White is the Archie Bunker of the neighborhood who teaches Peter's young son how to play poker, but flinches at the thought of a "Negro" in her neighborhood. Eugene Levy is his usual quirky self as Sanderson's co-worker and pal who tells Charlene in no uncertain terms that she's got him "straight trippin', Boo." He's about the only thing that's genuine in this camp fest.

Not long ago when I had the same criticisms of the movie "National Security," I received an e-mail from a viewer who said, "Can't you be happy that there are finally films that give African-Americans something to laugh at?"

In both instances, I found the characters to be nothing more than caricatures that minorities have been trying to overcome for years.

While the film leads moviegoers to believe there will be some redemption from all of its ridiculous horseplay, "Bringing Down The House" crumbles to a predictable end.

For a film that tries so hard to have its viewers believe it's taking chances, "Bringing Down The House" plays like a mid-season WB sitcom on the verge of cancellation. Unfortunately, there's no remote control.