Scarlet O'Hara's famous words "I won't think about that today, I'll think about that tomorrow," come in handy when watching films with gaping plot deficiencies. Films like "The Bone Collector," an Agatha Cristie style murder mystery that hurls a plethora of dead bodies and absurd clues at the audience to keep you engrossed in the minutia, leaving you no time to ponder what is really going on. And while there is an abundance of clues darting here and there like yo-yos, the real clues as to what's going on are kept until the end, where they all come together in an unlikely and frankly stupid ending.

Along the way, the Bone Collector is a brutal film, introducing us briefly to innocent people who are about to become playthings of a deranged murderer absorbed in a weird game of guess what I am doing to do next.

The master unraveler of this homicidal lunatic's plan is forensic expert Lincoln Rhyme, played by Denzel Washington. In the first scene we see Lincoln horribly injured at a crime scene, leaving him paralyzed, limited in mobility to moving his head and one finger. Still, his crime solving abilities are not affected, as long as the evidence is plugged into his very able mind via some highly sophisticated computer equipment.

The problem, of course, is that he needs a data gatherer to aid his mechanical and natural processes. Enter Amelia Donaghy, a young, blond cop, with a bucket load of savvy. Donaghy, played by Angelina Jolie, is one of the many shaky plot structures. At first there seems to be a reason why she's chosen to help Linc and with a little artistic license, you can go along with, until Linc asks her to chop off the hands of one of the victims. Donaghy picks up her bat and ball and goes home, and so does the film's credibility.

And once you cross the line into ridiculous, it's a slippery slope, down which the film careens with glee. But don't think about that now; think about that tomorrow.

There are some great performances in this movie. Denzel is brilliant as the immobile brain box that holds everything together. Angelina Jolie is incredibly like her father, John Voigt, in looks, and plays rookie cop with an intensity that is forced, though likely more from the script than the actress. Then there are all the supporting roles, like Queen Latifah as the all-knowing nurse, and Ed O'Neill AKA Al Bundy as the trustworthy flatfoot friend.

All in all, I was entertained by "The Bone Collector" but left with too many "huh?" moments to really absorbed into the fabric of the film. And in the final moments, as the killer was about to be revealed, there was very much an Agatha Christie moment. The killer pops out of no-where, ties together nothing, and in the end, who cares?