The sort of Cuba Gooding Jr.-esque vehicle that sends Oscar-winning stars reeling from the A-list down to the B-list and beyond, Gothika horribly miscasts a dressed-down, de-glammed Halle Berry as a stiff shrink for whom repression is next to godliness. Berry plays a happily married professional who wakes up to find herself accused of killing her husband/boss, Charles S. Dutton. Incarcerated in the asylum where she used to work, Berry begins having disturbing visions which may have something to do with the mysterious naked girl who was shivering in the middle of the road on the dark and stormy night when Berry's trouble began. Penélope Cruz devours scenery as a foxy fellow inmate convinced that Satan is sexually abusing her. (Cruz's delusions are at one point referred to as "Satanic meanderings," which would make a great name for a devil-worshipping jam band.) And, in a neat bit of irony, Robert Downey Jr. plays Berry's coworker-turned-jailer, a man in charge of imprisoning and drugging others. More a movie star than an actress, Berry looks uncomfortable spouting psychobabble, and she makes an unconvincing psychiatrist. Slumming arthouse veteran Mathieu Kassovitz directs with the frenetic overkill of someone who doesn't trust his own material, and with good reason: While stylistic excess keeps Gothika mildly diverting, though suspense- and horror-free, he can't do anything to keep the film's ending from degenerating into camp. The unintentional laughs pile up as the film reaches its idiotic conclusion: At the nadir, an escaped Berry phones Downey and matter-of-factly tells him, "I'm not deluded, Pete, I'm possessed." In its stumbling, unintentional way, Gothika is funnier than Scary Movie 3.