This summer alone, the nerd-appeal of the action genre (from Robert Downey Jr. in "Iron Man" to Edward Norton in "The Incredible Hulk") has reached an unparalleled degree of popular success.

This should not come as a surprise since most testosterone-fueled action pics cater to the idea of a put-upon John Doe turning into a superhero. The male hero shoots guns that hit their targets around corners, runs on top of speeding trains and flips cars onto buses and, in general, is a de facto role model for millions of real-life put-upon John Does.

The unfortunate trend continues in "Wanted," a gut-punching and self-punishing roller coaster ride that slams the audience in their seats from the beginning and doesn't let up until the theater lights come up. This is the most torture-inducing couple of hours I can imagine spending in a theater all summer long. It is being promoted as the must-see action thriller of the summer, but in truth, it is the dumbest, crudest and most sadistic form of summertime entertainment to come along in a good long time.

In all good action films, a fundamental sense of logic is required. There needs to be a cause and effect. Its not here. There are outrageous shoot-outs, secret societies performing horrible deeds and a lot of manipulated editing the film-school nerds are going to eat up, but it has the grotesque aftereffect of being mugged rather than entertained. It is gut-slamming action for no other reason than to gut-slam the audience into a stupor.

Is it thrilling? That is a matter of taste. Is it original? Nope. The adrenaline-pumping opening sequence offers up a good indication of the cartoonish action that is in store for this adaptation of Mark Millar and J.G. Jones' popular cult comic series. The preposterous scene that gets things in motion concerns a pair of near-superhuman assassins (or something) that face off in a protracted duel. There are a lot of logic-stretching stunts (leaping through impenetrable glass, scaling rooftops, etc.) that put Tobey Maguire's Spider-Man to shame.

The put-upon male hero, Wesley Gibson (James McAvoy), is a timid, disgruntled pill-popping corporate robot suffering in a hellish cubicle prison. "I'm an account manager, not an accountant!" is his constant mantra. He spends most of his time Googling himself, but there is an undeniable satiric mad-as-hell edge to the office scenes that captures the soul-crushing realities of modern corporate life.

The action gets into high gear once he meets a tattooed and enigmatic superagent (Angelina Jolie) and learns that his long-forgotten dad, one of the great assassins of all time, has been murdered. The gruesome and idiotic spiraling-bullet shoot-em-up sequence that results is supposed to pull us right into the action, but it has the opposite effect.

There is no legitimate thrill or feeling to the spectacle and I could feel the strings being pulled from behind me. The disappointment is palpable. There is a certain fun factor to the first ridiculous car chase scene, but it soon becomes apparent that the emperor has no clothes.

In lighting speed time, the hero cashes out his credit cards, goes postal on his insufferable boss, punches his best friend in the face and finds his self-confidence through running on top of speeding trains and flipping cars onto buses. He is more Bridget Jones than The Terminator though and the abrupt change doesn't ring true at all.

The height-challenged McAvoy is an odd choice for an action hero, but that is the point, and he is the most appealing presence in the entire film. The role is a significant departure from his usual art-house fare, but there is a grit and determination about him that should turn him into the actor of the moment at some point, but this ain't it.

It turns out his magical mentor is a high-connected member of a secret centuries-old group of trained murderers that do horrible things to people. It is therefore up to her to turn him into a remorseless, cold-blooded fighting machine. Jolie can do the tattooed hottie routine in her sleep, and though she has a blast channeling her bad girl persona, her role is a lot smaller than the trailers indicate. That means she sits around a lot, smiles in amusement as he is beaten up and chooses to participate if the situation calls for it. 
 
He is soon introduced to the enigmatic leader of the group, Sloan (Morgan Freeman in a much nastier role than usual), and learns to harness his superhuman abilities. The sadistic boot camp training montage is gratuitous, dull and unappealing to sit through. There is a high amount of torture-porn bloodlust on hand here, and our hero is beaten, pummeled and disfigured before the nerd can be reborn as a superhero and the real slam-bang thrills can begin.

The trouble is, the slam-bang thrills aren't all that thrilling, and the plot collapses into a pile of dust. In the third act, it tries to get serious and there are a lot of high-falutin metaphors about God and the social responsibilities of being a renegade, but its trash, and has no redeeming social qualities. In the end, it can't escape the script's uncomfortable message that marching to the beat of a different drummer is not, I repeat not, a good reason to commit murder.  

There is something of a surprise ending, but at that point, I didn't care. The director, Timur Bekmambetov, comes from the school that the audience isn't going to get his point unless he punches them in the stomach. And the director hasn't met a manipulated camera angle or an abrupt change in camera speed he couldn't repeat ad nauseam. These aren't original or supercool directorial touches, it is called dressing up a B-list comic in couture clothes.

I'm not sure there is an audience for such unflinching and humorless torture. There is an almost sadistic nature to the big guns, flipping cars, imploding heads and punctured limbs paraded out for full gut-punching effect.

Here is a thought: don't go see it.

Casey Menninger is a freelance movie critic and a regular contributor to Richmond.com. He has been a movie fan since seeing Elliott and E.T. pedal across the moon in "E.T.: The Extra-Terrestrial." He and his laptop can regularly be found at Starbucks.