Her name is — oh, who really cares? The point is, she joins tons of other actresses who were hired because they were so boring they wouldn't overshadow Murphy as he picks up another paycheck and proves again that talent and good taste do not necessarily go together. Like "Pluto Nash," "Showtime," "I Spy" and dozens of other titles from the Blockbuster Do Not Rent shelf, "The Haunted Mansion" is a badly scripted, sloppily put-together hack job.

First, the good thing, and there is only one good thing: As in the Disney World ride it's based on, "The Haunted Mansion" spotlights busts of four distinguished gentlemen who sing in four-part harmony. They're a delight and they enliven the movie whenever they pop up.

Otherwise, it's the same story that was told much better in "The Santa Clause," "Elf" and "Bringing Down the House" about a workaholic dad who realizes he doesn't spend enough time with his kids (a rough guess: Lots of screenwriters are divorced dads who don't spend enough time with their kids).

Murphy is the dad, a real estate agent who learns his valuable lesson while touring a haunted fixer-upper with his wife (the aforeunmentioned actress). Here's a message for you divorced dads in the audience: Play Scrabble with your kids. Take them to a museum. Read them the latest Lemony Snicket book. Just don't haul them to this turkey.