Fifteen minutes into this atrocious, woefully scripted and utterly predictable farce of a movie, your reviewer begins to wonder who is suffering more within the confines of parking level two (P2) – the doomed, unsuspecting viewer, or Rachel Nichols' distressed, voluptuous heroine.

Though Nichols' character Angela spends Christmas Eve drugged and held captive by a lonely nutcase (Bentley), you would gladly swap places with her in exchange for the return of the lost hour-and-a-half spent in the company of director Franck Khalfoun's pitifully poor movie. How anyone decided it would be a good idea to progress this film from the drawing board to completion is beyond belief.

For what it's worth, the set-up involves hard-working, corporate go-getter Angela, who finds herself the last to leave the office on Christmas Eve. Big mistake, you might say – and guess what, you'd be right on the money. Sure doesn't her car only fail to start, leaving her locked in the building with deranged security guard Thomas (Bentley) to share her Christmas pudding with.

If you've guessed that wacky weirdo Thomas is obsessed with Angela, hell you're right again. He simply wants to treat, control and dress her up in his creepy way.

Putting her in a low cut top, Nichols' assets are (surprise, surprise) highlighted as the role of regulation big-boobed blonde is ticked off in this cat-and-mouse horrific horror.

Nichols does what she can with her limited role and, in keeping with recent films in the genre, she's given a feisty hard-balled edge. Bentley meanwhile is almost comic as the baddie and were the film not so awful you'd be in hysterics with his 'so-bad, it's funny' performance.

To cap it all off the film is laced with car-park size plot holes and frequently lacks logic. Elsewhere, as if to emphasise its lack of thrills, Khalfoun plays up the gore and one of the film's killings is horrific in detail at no benefit to the movie.

In summary, you would have more fun and definitely more enjoyment in spending an hour-and-a-half gazing at the dark drab walls of the cinema's underground car park.

Steve Cummins