Credits. One might say credits are the solution to any mystery, and so the audience greets them with relief now that we are safe from any more revelations, sea lions, Al Pacino impressions, and most of all, any more Ashley Judd chugging red wine and passing out. Because seriously, SHE DRINKS TOO MUCH.

Twisted is the story of an alcoholic. It's also about murder and stuff, but above all it's the story of an alcoholic who sucks at her job and fails to learn from any of her mistakes. How many times would you black out and potentially commit murder before you stopped drinking? How many times would you sleep with the wrong guy before deciding not to sleep with every guy? How many times would you let Andy Garcia hand-feed you salmon before requesting a different partner?

Twisted is also the story of a screenplay -- a screenplay so lazy it recycles the few scenes for most of the first hour until it becomes hard to believe this isn't a joke. In fact, the only explanation for Ashley Judd's performance is that she thought it was a joke. This is a screenplay so lazy it resorted to putting the main character in therapy just to recite the exposition. This screenplay didn't even bring back the Pine-Sol lady when the filmmakers must have known she was the main reason people would buy tickets to see this movie. That's the power of the Pine-Sol lady.

Perhaps the best example of lazy writing comes near the end, when Samuel L. Jackson's character "John" passionately reveals that Jessica shares her father's rage, which is what led him to kill her mother and then himself -- after John informed him that she was sleeping around. This was at least an attempt to explain Jessica's promiscuity AND violent behavior by tying it back to her parents, and linking those past events to the present. It wasn't great, but it was an attempt at telling an actual story.

And yet, in the very next scene, John makes ANOTHER revelation that that story was ALSO a lie, and in fact he killed Jessica's parents himself because he loved her mother. Now we are left with no explanation for Jessica's appalling behaviors and no link between past and present, besides the vague implication that John is now in love with Jessica. This renders the story of Jessica's parents not only tangential, but boring -- and the audience is conned into learning more about the film's least interesting character since Wilson (who?).

Nevertheless, we love Twisted. It tries so hard to be, well, twisted, but it just can't rise above its "network crime procedural" standards, despite the Pine-Sol lady's valiant effort to make this her breakout role. "Every murder has a mark," according to the film's tagline, and so does every great slow roll -- and Twisted bears a mark of silliness that nicely elevates it above other bad thrillers.