As the camera lingers just before the closing credits you can see Invasion Of The Body Snatchers is a forthcoming attraction at The Majestic cinema of the title.

Those of you who stay the 2hrs-plus running time could be forgiven for thinking the invaders had already arrived, such is the otherworldliness of the cast.

To put it simply, every character is a Hollywood stereotype, from Jim Carrey as the amiable victim of mistaken identity, through to Hal Holbrook as the weasley Congressmen determined to nail him as a Commie rat.

It would be nice to think that director Frank Darabont was having a bit of a laugh such is the cloying gooiness of a movie that celebrates fighting truth and injustice the American Way.

But the sneaking suspicion must remain that he's totally lost his touch since the old-fashioned but utterly mesmerising Shawshank Redemption in 1994.

Carrey plays journeyman Tinseltown screenwriter Peter Appleton, who finds himself on the McCarthy blacklist of alleged Communist sympathisers in the early 1950s.

Just as he's about to face a Senate hearing committee he drunkenly crashes his car over a bridge and winds up concussed on the beach of the type of town that only exists in Hollywood movies.

The people of Lawson - from Mabel the caring but lonely diner boss through to the Stars & Stripes mayor - are the sort of Americans whose teeth you can see gleaming from space.

However, a pall of depression hangs over the town, which gave up more than 60 of its young men during World War II.

Luke Trimble was one of them and Appleton bears such a striking resemblance to the lost hero that even Luke's grieving father is convinced his son has returned.

Appleton, who is conveniently suffering from amnesia, is confused but agrees to go along with the misunderstanding and is soon restoring Lawson's Majestic cinema to its former glory with his dad.

However, evil G-men are lurking in the background and they're certainly not prepared to let a Pinko subversive escape their clutches.

With Shawshank and The Green Mile, Darabont made derivative films, but at least they were beautifully crafted stories with dramatic tension, pacing and plot.

Here he seduces the viewer with a splendid opening scene and then proceeds to upend the victim into a barrel of molasses and forcefeeds dialogue so banal and patronising even the National Lottery would think twice about bankrolling it.

At a time when America is pathologically addicted to "feeling good about itself", this is a feel-good movie that could prove too mawkish for even the most dedicated flag waver.

Tim Evans