“Swimfan” (Twentieth Century Fox, PG-13) is one of the funniest films in years.

Too bad that wasn’t the intention.

“Swimfan” is a rare breed. It’s a suspense thriller that’s neither thrilling nor suspenseful.

The film opens with teens having sex in a car to the sounds of a cellist strumming along. It only takes moments for the pop-rock soundtrack to drown out the soft sounds from the cello. We a-ll know where this film is going, don’t we?

This is the story of Ben Cronin (Jesse Bradford). Ben is the coolest guy in school who cheats on his really cute girlfriend, Amy (Shiri Appleby), with the new tramp in town. Erica Christensen’s character, in turn, becomes way too attached to Ben and starts to ruin Ben’s life by doing shocking things to his friends and family. Whew, I’m glad I got that shocking plot line out of my system.

That’s the plot, no more, no less. Don’t expect to be challenged, surprised, shocked, scared or entertained. You will go through none of these emotions at any point during “Swimfan.”

However, you can expect to laugh. You will laugh at the dialogue provided by writers Charles F. Bohl and Phillip Schneider. This sample of their extreme talent comes in the beginning of the film when Ben gives his girlfriend a cheesy gift.

Amy: This is just a ploy to get laid, isn’t it?

Ben: Is it workin’?

Amy: (Nods head) Yes.

Me: Are you kidding me?

No, I’m not in the film — too bad, huh? But, with all sincerity, this early display of nonsense washes away any credibility the film began with.

“Swimfan” seems to take place in some sort of fantasy world. It’s a world where high schoolers are shocked that guys would cheat on their girlfriends. It’s a world where teenage boys are careful enough to put the club on their steering wheels yet dumb enough to trust a strange new girl to keep a terrible secret.

Giles Nuttgens, the film’s director of photography, really displays his fetish with depth of field in this film. His constant shift of focus between foreground and background does nothing but irritate the mind. Usually filmmakers do this to bring unexpected characters or items to the audience’s attention. Since “Swimfan” wants to leave absolutely nothing to the imagination of the audience, the technique fails miserably over and over again.

If one wanted to search to find a good aspect to this film, they could give Sarah Flack, the film’s editor, some credit. Flack obviously tried to make the hours of garbage given to her by the production team entertaining. However, her rule-breaking jump cuts can’t disguise the recycled trash flashing across the screen. Still, one could applaud her efforts if one chose to.

If, for some awful reason, you find yourself sitting in a theater while this film is playing, here’s a fun way to amuse yourself. Close your eyes. Now, try to figure out if the voice your hearing is Erika Christensen or Anna Nicole Smith. Now, open your eyes to find out that Christensen and Smith are just as seductive, you’ll be just as befuddled! Their similarities are uncanny.

To Christensen’s credit, she has pulled off a good performance in Steven Soderbergh’s “Traffic.” It goes to show what a director like Soderbergh can get out of an actor compared to “Swimfan” director John Polson.

Now, we could go into a whole “what’s wrong with Hollywood today” spiel, but Hollywood isn’t the problem here. This film more than likely will make a profit at the box office. It opened in the No. 1 spot. If people stopped turning out in large numbers to see these films, Hollywood producers would stop making them, period.

Overall, “Swimfan” is your typical two-hour waste of time with plot holes so big, you could fall through. The filmmakers play the audience for fools by telling them details over and over again only to re-tell them once more. That’s right, director John Polson, writers Charles F. Bohl and Phillip Schneider and all the other people involved with “Swimfan’s” creation think that you are an idiot.

Prove them wrong. Don’t see this film!