Mena Suvari plunging from a rooftop in a bad wig is about as entertaining as this dull horror retread gets. Ostensibly a sequel to Brian De Palma's Carrie, The Rage is actually a cookie-cutter teen horror flick that shuffles dutifully through all the paces, from unlikely romance and unrealistic cliques to jock-boy predation and pointless gore. This is the sort of picture where, defying all logic, the telekinetic protagonist sprouts tribal tattoos when she uses her powers -- just because it looks cool, one has to assume. First-time director Katt Shea proves proficient in staging the inevitable bloodbath. The real blame for the film's faults lies with screenwriter Rafael Moreu, whose phony vision of the high-school pecking order previously graced the silver screen in Hackers. The burning question hovering over this slipshod mess, though, is how much the producers paid usually A-list actress Amy Irving to update her role from the original.