Sy-Fy‘s Being Human made its second season debut last week, recussetating the nerd tv quotient in my life exponentially. Yes, I watch True Blood, and as you now know all-too-well, if it’s on PBS or BBC America, I’m on board. But there isn’t much I watch that I’m wholeheartedly embarassed to admit to, with the exception of Being Human. Well, FSR readers, I’m coming clean. Yep, I’m a SyFy watcher, and semi-proud. Being Human, for those of you not in the know, is the story of three unlikely roommates, a vampire, a werewolf, and a ghost. I mean, totally believable, right? Of course not, but if you’re looking for believable TV, then stick to the Law and Order franchise. It’s across-the-pond counterpart appealed to me after popping up in my “recommended for you” Netflix queue so often that I finally succumbed, plowing through a couple of discs in a matter of days. So you can imagine my delight when SyFy’s incessant bus shelter/subway stop/public transportation domination campaign alerted me to an American reboot. With Jungle 2 Jungle‘s Mimisiku!

The creators of Dylan Dog: Dead of Night, the long-delayed big screen version of the popular Italian comic, have attempted to translate its pulpy noir feel to the big screen. So they’ve got that going for them. And that’s about it. Kevin Munroe’s flick is otherwise a chore to sit through, a choppily edited festival of hastily conjoined pop cultural archetypes. With terrible acting, a narrative on autopilot and chaotic blurs passing for action scenes, it’s a direct-to-DVD caliber sojourn through the dregs of comic book adaptation. Brandon Routh, the fallen Superman, plays New Orleans-based ex-supernatural investigator Dylan Dog, who’s drawn back in the game when a werewolf kills the father of beautiful client Elizabeth Ryan (Anita Briem). With his wisecracking zombie sidekick (Sam Huntington), Dog traverses the Crescent City’s criminal underworld in an attempt to unwrap the conspiracy behind the murder.

There is no need to adjust your monitor, wonder if you swallowed too many of Grandpa’s happy pills, or even be afraid that you have somehow entered into a Finnegan’s Wake-like world where up is down, left is right, and James Joyce is actually relevant. That’s right-Kyle Newman’s Fanboys has actually seen the light of limited release.

I am beginning to get the feeling that most people have lost interest in the movement to save Fanboys. That said, here’s a new trailer. Enjoy.