(In theaters, September 2002) This constantly skirts the edge between being an earnestly dumb kid’s film and becoming a witty take-off for adults. Pot jokes (“My name’s Mary-Jane / Really? That’s, like, my favorite name!”), self-referential humour (“you’re only good at being captured!”) and some risky cleavage (but then again, Daphne was always the hottest) pepper the script as if someone had hastily re-written it without the producer’s consent. It’s a shame that this vein couldn’t have been pushed even further, because as it stands now, Scooby-Doo is pretty much a dud. The “Scooby-Doo” creature design is one of the ugliest things to disgrace the silver screen this year, and the film features unconvincing sets that just seem thrown together without effort. Sure, the film moves with a certain expediency and doesn’t leave you too bored until the excruciating finale, but still… I suppose it could have been much, much worse, but that’s praising the film with very slight compliments. I suppose that the DVD won’t even restore the long-rumoured Velma/Daphne kiss….