When Hollywood adapts a novel into a film it’s always a dicey proposition – very few filmmakers get it right. Well, I’m happy to report that the film version of The Night Listener remains faithful to its source material. The book’s author, Armistead Maupin (Tales of the City), wrote the screenplay, and the film stars Robin Williams, Toni Collette, Bobby Canavale, Sandra Oh and Rory Culkin.

Williams (ratcheted down a few dozen notches from his usual over-the-top persona) stars as radio-talk-show host Gabriel Noone, a recent victim of the relationship wars. Williams brings an air of pathos to the role as he conveys the sorrow of lost love from his “I just need some space” ex, Jess (Bobby Cannavale).

Noone receives a book detailing unspeakable abuse done to a 14-year-old boy living with AIDS named Pete (Culkin), and shortly thereafter the two strike up a friendship over the phone.

But the film quickly takes a dark turn when a mysterious cloud begins to form over the friendship. It seems Pete may not be who he seems to be – if he even exists at all – and this mystery drives the bulk of the movie. At the core of the film is the very nature of trust among people and the ability to take things at face value in a sometimes cynical world.

Collette delivers a nuanced performance as Pete’s caregiver, and it is her performance coupled with Williams’ that delivers the goods in this psychological thriller, which will keep you guessing right up to the end.

Just how bad is The Wicker Man, the remake of the 1973 movie that now “stars” Nicolas Cage? The three words that best describe it: Oh, dear lord. That could be taken a step further with the three letters WTF?!

Cage’s character is established during the opening credits as a man merely going through the motions in life by giving out citations as a police officer. Soon he encounters a creepy Dakota Fanning knockoff, who resembles Patty McCormack in The Bad Seed, and for plot-convenience sake has a close tie to Cage’s character.

You see, Cage’s ex-fiancée skipped town on him and now her daughter is missing, so it’s off to “Summerisle” (a remote island in Washington State) to investigate her disappearance. And long before it is established by Cage and his inept brand of detective work, you know Dakota Fanning-Lite is his kid. Wow! Didn’t see that one coming.

That’s what makes Cage’s performance so laughable. He makes endless statements of the obvious yet glosses over the obvious facts. For instance, the denizens of Summerisle are overtly suspect right off the bat, yet Cage still accepts a drink at the local tavern made from “honey, herbs and whatnot.” Any child over the age of 3 knows you don’t accept “whatnot” from a stranger. Not too swift on the uptake there, Dick Tracy! Additionally, Cage’s performance is so wooden that you begin to wonder if they named the movie after his acting ability.

The Wicker Man is a step back for Leelee Sobieski’s promising career and isn’t helping Ellen Burstyn’s comeback. It also is an abject lesson for Frances Conroy (“Six Feet Under”) to not stray from her television backyard.

Matching Cage for odd acting (dis)abilities in every scene is Kate Beahan as his ex fiancée, Willow, who always wears a stricken look on her face, as if she might evacuate her bowels at any given moment.

The Wicker Man has horror movie clichés in abundance and scenes so awkward you could cut the tension with a plastic spork from KFC. At least the scenery is pretty.