'Apocalypto' (R) (out of four)

It doesn't take long for the question to arise and to linger, unanswered, over a film that never offers an answer: Why in the world did anyone make this movie?

"Apocalypto," for all of the hype surrounding its ancient dialect, the anticipation following director Mel Gibson's last box office phenomenon, "The Passion of the Christ," and the scandal surrounding the director's drunken, anti-Semitic rant a few months back, sweeps into theaters dead on arrival; an aimless, heartless, reprehensibly violent bloodbath of a torture session.

No film has made me as angry in recent memory. I want desperately to convince you to spare yourself the trauma of subjecting yourself to Gibson's sadistic "vision."

Now, it's no mystery what Gibson thinks this movie is about: The end of the Mayan civilization, in which peaceful and tranquil tribes living on the edges of the jungle are ruthlessly murdered and rounded up by an even larger tribe intent on sacrificing them to the gods.

Undoubtedly, he would claim "Apocalypto" tells the story of one civilization's apocalypse, and how the Mayans ravaged the land, killed the innocent and lost their connection to the Earth as they turned to violence in hopes of saving themselves ... until a larger predator came along, sights set on them.

But this is not the way the movie plays out. Abandoning some rough, early dialogue for nearly an hour and a half of wordless, non-stop action, Gibson has created a jarring, numbing, visceral explosion of a film.

And in the process, he lost any semblance of higher meaning.

As it stands now, the real "message" of the film remains woefully simplistic: When people come to kill you, learn how to hone your skills and kill them - and rest assured that someone bigger will come along another day to kill you in a different way.

Yet even this message becomes mired in the violence that runs rampant all over this film. Jaguar Paw (Rudy Youngblood) is a hunter in his tribe, a happy tribe that lives off the land, makes music, dances and raises families. One morning an unknown gang of warriors shows up, kills most of his comrades, abducts the men and leads them on a grueling march.

Within the ranks of the abductors, we start to notice rifts in leadership and challenges of authority. But once they reach their base, prisoners in tow, thousands of cheering onlookers watch as one by one these men are slaughtered. Gibson cranes in close and shows us what's happening. We watch as stomachs are cut, as hearts are removed, as heads are chopped off and roll down a steep staircase.

And then Jaguar Paw escapes his captors -- as prophecy said would happen one day -- fleeing through the jungle as he is chased for days and days. He knows his wife and son are hiding in a well, are without food and at risk of drowning, and so he keeps running and running, devising ways to kill his pursuers one by one.

The further he runs, the further removed we become from any ideas surrounding that sacrificial ceremony or the bloodthirsty masses cheering it on, and the more the violence becoming less a plot device than the focus of attention. We don't just see someone lose a battle, but we see the arrow go through their head. We don't just see the attackers getting their just desserts, but are forced to watch as Gibson repeatedly cuts to a shot of jaguar eating the face of a man, and as a king cobra bites into a neck.

Gibson's movies have often been about the stripping of a man's soul. Braveheart becomes a savage, Jesus must disconnect himself from worldly pain, and thus his films, with their violence and gore, strip his audiences of an ability to empathize. We are left numb to the experience, beaten senseless.

And to what end? For the thrill? Mr. Gibson's giddiness over shock value is not a work of drama but of sensationalism, eliciting the worst of human nature.

There's no way to imply meaning here. "Apocalypto" is about man's ability to hurt and maim, and told in a way that conveys as much mindless violence as possible. It's an act of endurance, not entertainment.