OxfordPress.com

Grade: B

Verdict: Familiar but stylishly done thriller.

Details: Starring Michael Douglas, Brittany Murphy and Famke Janssen. Directed by Gary Fleder. Rated R for violence and language. One hour, 58 minutes.

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Review: Following a flashy jewel heist prologue, the main story of “Don't Say a Word” gets off to a not-so-great start.

But don't give up. This sleekly crafted thriller gets better as it goes along.

The reason the setup scenes are so tepid is a common one in movies like this. Director Gary Fleder (“Kiss the Girls”) must establish the requisite “normal happy family” before the requisite abnormal unhappy thing happens.

Our designated family consists of Dr. Nathan Conrad (Michael Douglas), a well-heeled Manhattan psychotherapist who specializes in well-heeled adult family-trust-fund waifs; his beautiful wife, Aggie (Famke Janssen), who's laid up with a broken leg; and their adorable 8-year-old daughter, Jessie (Skye McCole Bartusiak).

It's the night before Thanksgiving and as Nathan is heading home, he gets a call from an old friend and colleague, Dr. Sachs (Oliver Platt) who needs his help. He's just admitted a patient who, he says, is beyond his expertise. She's Elisabeth (Brittany Murphy), a wild-eyed, disheveled teen with Angelina Jolie lips and Linda Blair circles under her eyes.

Nathan agrees to try. But after a few minutes with Elisabeth, about all he learns is that she's not a true catonic. For some reason, she's mimicking the symptoms of other patients. One other strange thing: She's been in 20 hospitals in the past 10 years.

Disturbing. But nowhere near as disturbing as what happens the next morning.

Nathan and Abbie wake up to find Jessie gone and a sinister-sounding voice on the phone explaining what they must do. The voice belongs to one of our jewel thieves (Sean Bean), and what he wants is simple: Conrad has until 5 p.m. to pry a six-digit number out of Elisabeth's troubled mind. If he fails . . .

“Don't Say a Word” is a classic race-against-time movie that, once set in motion, ticks along like clockwork. What keeps you hooked are good performances and just enough plot twists. That's not to say the picture is bursting with originality; it's not, right down to the arbitrary timeline. But as it dutifully goes through the expected tropes and inevitable implausibilities of the genre, the movie stays steady on its feet and steadily involving.

Douglas has made a specialty of playing the wound-up urban Everyman. Some are nasty (“Wall Street”). Some are nice, as in this film. Some moviegoers love him; other don't. But like him or hate him, he's the motor that keeps the movie moving so well.

As for Murphy (who has three other films coming out this fall, including Drew Barrymore's “Riding in Cars With Boys”) she looks like a cross between a pouty baby-porn star and Macaulay Culkin (check the eyes). But beyond her evident camera presence, it's hard to say how talented she is.

Frankly, her most memorable contribution isn't to the movie but to the trailer in which she writhes suggestively in her short hospital gown while she sing-songs, “I'll never tell.”

“Spin City's” Jennifer Esposito shows up in a subplot, but this is mostly Douglas's show. And if anyone knows how to put on a slickly effective show, it's Kirk's baby boy.

— Eleanor Ringel Gillespie, (none)