Cmon, as a kids movie, it barely passes as a short infomerical for the CW network. It has no script, no compelling characters, no acting, no direction to go, hardly any noticeable production values at all, it looks and sounds more like a failed TV pilot rather then a film.

Emma Roberts acts like an idiot (in keeping with the dumb roles she has played so far) and her cast members look totally clueless in the roles.

If you ever wanted evidence that Warner Brothers does not care about TV or movie, and only wants to make money, Here it is.

I needed a shot of insulin after watching “Nancy Drew.” This movie is sickeningly sweet, from the characters to the themes to the completely contrived plot. Maybe I feel this way because I’m at a disadvantage; I’ve haven’t read any of Carolyn Keene’s original “Nancy Drew” books, so I have no way of knowing if this film adaptation is faithful. I can only judge it on its own terms, and I must say, it’s a pretty bad film. I didn’t believe the characters, the dialogue, or the mystery. I believed in the title character least of all, with her unwavering resolve, her unnaturally friendly personality, and her uncanny ability to solve dangerous mysteries with ease. Yes, I get that this is supposed to appeal to younger audiences, and yes, I get that some suspension of disbelief is required. But when a piece of cake succeeds as a bribe for medical records, I’m afraid you’ve lost me.

Such is the reality of teenage sleuth Nancy Drew (Emma Roberts), who would rapidly exhaust every item in an etiquette book. The film opens with her catching two criminals robbing a church (one of which, incidentally, is played by Chris Kattan); after she’s discovered, she gives one of them a lemon bar, displays her organized sleuthing kit, and suggests that they receive behavioral therapy. She does all this while maintaining a prim and proper attitude, always sitting up straight, always keeping a smile on her face. What part of this sounds plausible? The fact that Nancy lives in a small town shouldn’t matter; I should think such areas would have smaller police forces, meaning that crimes would be especially dangerous. Nonetheless, Nancy cracks the case yet again, much to the praise of the townsfolk and the chagrin of her father, Carson (Tate Donovan).

For financial reasons, the Drews must leave their all-American town and live in Los Angeles for a few months. They move into a surprisingly affordable mansion personally chosen by Nancy; it’s old and creaky, the former home of an old-time Hollywood starlet. Once there, Carson forces Nancy to swear off sleuthing because he feels it’s dangerous, and naturally, Nancy promises to be good. Of course, she neglects to tell him the real reason she picked that particular house: the movie star that lived there died under mysterious circumstances, and there seems to be unfinished business with the creepy groundskeeper, Leshing (Marshall Bell). As Nancy and her father settle in, she does her detective work behind his back. Considering the lengths she went to and the methods she used, I really don’t understand how such a thing would be possible; at one point, clues lead her to a spa located miles away from Los Angeles. We don’t know who drove her there (she does have her own car, but at this point, it’s still back in her home town). We don’t know how long it took her to get there. We don’t know how long she stayed. The casualness of this scene was incredibly sloppy.

Eventually, she meets a young woman named Jane Brighton (Rachael Leigh Cook), who may or may not be the long lost daughter of the Hollywood starlet. She also meets a lawyer (Barry Bostwick) who’s currently in business talks with her father. Meeting them both proves to be dangerous on Nancy’s part; she begins receiving death threats over the phone, and an SUV attempts to run her over. Yet she still pursues this case with flawless precision, as if to say that an attempt on her life is an everyday occurrence. Why the filmmakers chose to go that route, I have no idea. It isn’t exactly light subject matter. But the film itself is incredibly light and airy. Could no come to a decision as to what direction the story should go in?

Balancing out the mystery is Nancy’s social life, or lack thereof. Her arrival in Los Angeles is a major culture shock–Nancy is portrayed as a wholesome girl of unrealistically high standards and out-of-date fashion; the teenagers of Los Angeles are portrayed as over-pampered snobs that wear designer clothes and constantly talk on cell phones. Everyone in this film was an overdone caricature, completely shallow and lacking any complexity. Two teenage girls (Daniella Monet and Kelly Vitz) become Nancy’s biggest problem, and they need no further explanation. One of the girls has a twelve-year-old brother named Corky (Josh Flitter) who, for laughably dumb reasons, is already in high school. He and Nancy form a bizarre friendship: she appreciates his company; he thinks that they’re boyfriend and girlfriend. His obnoxious behavior is most prominent when Nancy’s true crush pays her a visit–a clingy, neurotic young man named Ned (Max Thieriot).

Neither storyline knows how to properly develop the characters. All the attention seemed to go towards crafting the dead actress mystery, which, I have to admit, is somewhat engaging. The problem is that it isn’t engaging enough; many details are overshadowed by personality quirks, not the least of which belong to perfect Little Miss Nancy Drew. This character is relentlessly cloying, and after about ten minutes of watching her, I had more than enough. I was tired of the perkiness. I was tired of the pluck. I was tired of the organization. “Nancy Drew” is a film that can only amount to empty calories, which–as we all know–should be taken in sparingly. The only audience this movie could possibly appeal to is kids, and even then, I can’t imagine who would actually enjoy it. It has nothing that boys and girls can relate to. This can only mean one thing: the filmmakers didn’t have a clue.

I have watched most of the Nancy Drew material on both film & T/V, from Bonita Granville to Pamela Sue Martin & beyond. In many respects this latest big screen offering was the worst of all!

There wasn’t much wrong with the actual story, if it had been played straight, but it was the treatment that was excruciatingly wrong. Instead of the usual plucky youngster, we were given a camped-up Wunderkid who could do no wrong.

Such a pity, because it could have been so good, and this version might just spoil it for others. Todays teenagers deserve much better than this!