Taking over the Bruce Davison role is Crispin Glover (2000's "Charlie's Angels"), a long-time actor with a cult following of his own who is best-known as George McFly in 1985's "Back to the Future." Glover, who is criminally underrated as an actor, is pitch-perfect as Willard, a man in his early 30's who lives with his cranky old mother (Jackie Burroughs) in a large, decrepit house that would almost make Norman Bates recoil in fear. With no friends to speak of and receiving zero respect at his late father's manufacturing company, since taken over by hateful boss Frank Martin (R. Lee Ermey), Willard finds solace in a quickly growing infestation of rats in his basement. For Willard, the rats become his best and only true companions, particularly in the case of a faithful white one he names Socrates. Ben, easily the largest and most adamant of the rats, grows jealous of Socrates, dead-set on making his presence to Willard known.

"Willard," which mixes melodrama with horrific sequences of revenge, as Willard unleashes his deadly rodents on Frank Martin, works best as an intimate character study. Willard, poignantly portrayed by Crispin Glover, is a sympathetic figure who has no self-esteem or confidence in his life, made worse by a cantankerous and overbearing mother who puts Willard down every chance she gets. In one of the film's most touching moments, Willard is informed that he will lose his house--the only place he has ever called home--now that his parents have both died. "This will give you a chance to start your life over," the insurance investor tells him. "Start over?" Willard tearfully responds. "I'm almost done!" If Glover was not born to play the role of Willard, then nobody was. The actor has an off-kilter quality just right for the part, but also an earnest solemnity that allows him to be accessible to viewers.

Where "Willard" fails is in nearly every other respect. Sure, there are nice touches here and there, such as an impressive stop-motion opening credits sequence; a Danny Elfmanesque score by Shirley Walker (2003's "Final Destination 2"); an indelibly ominous production design by Mark S. Freeborn; and an ingenious use of the song "Ben" by the Jackson 5, but it all adds up to very little in the long run. As a horror film, the movie is extremely dated.

The rats, although technically impressive and strong actors in their own rights, are never once scary, and the stalk-and-kill scenes lack even a rudimentary understanding of suspense. Indeed, the closest first-time director Glen Morgan ever comes to ratcheting tension is when a cat is terrorized by the rats, but it is done in decidedly bad taste.

With Crispin Glover acting mostly alongside his rodent companions, the other human actors are sorely wasted. R. Lee Ermey (2001's "Saving Silverman") is appropriately despicable as the ill-fated Frank Martin, but plays this one note to the point of exhaustion. As Willard's compassionate co-worker Kat, Laura Elena Harring (2001's "Mulholland Drive") serves no real purpose and receives unsatisfying closure. On the other hand, Jackie Burroughs (2003's "A Guy Thing") is an unforgettable nightmare come to life as Willard's domineering mother.

Deliberately paced and subjectively muted, "Willard" is unlikely to hold much commercial viability, although it is not without its merits. Regretfully, those merits do not make up for a creaky story that falls flat just when it should be getting to the goods. Crispin Glover's marvelous turn notwithstanding, "Willard" simply does not belong in the 21st-century.