C-

The wittiest thing about this adaptation of Susan Hill’s 1983 novel by screenwriter Jane Goldman and director James Watkins—indeed, the only witty thing about the intensely humorless movie—is the title, which is obviously meant to recall (and reverse) that of Wilkie Collins’ famous 1860 mystery. Otherwise “The Woman in Black” is a gloomy, turgid bore.

It’s basically a creaky haunted-house story, with a twist that plays on parents’ natural fears of losing a child. Daniel Radcliffe, whose presence suggests that he needs better advice in his choice of post-“Potter” roles, stars as Arthur Kipps, a young lawyer in Victorian London. The picture lays out his background economically in the first ten minutes: Kipps is still grieving the death of his wife Sophie Stuckey) in childbirth four years earlier, and dotes on their son Joseph (Misha Handley). But his work has suffered, and he receives an ultimatum from his boss (Roger Allam). Do a good job inventorying the papers of recently-deceased client Alice Drablow, or lose his position.

Unfortunately, the assignment requires Kipps to journey to Eel Marsh, the remote Drablow estate in Yorkshire, a forbidding mansion located on the seacoast and periodically not only fogged in but cut off from the mainland by high tide. When he arrives at the nearby village of Crythin Gifford, he gets a hostile reception from generally surly inhabitants, who pointedly remove their children from his gaze. The only exception is wealthy Squire Daily (Ciaran Hinds), the only person in the vicinity with an automobile, who even invites Arthur to dinner. But at the Daily home Kipps meets Daily’s wife (Janet McTeer), who turns out to be mentally unbalanced as the result of the death of her son in an accident many years before.

Meanwhile, the lawyer’s work at Eel Marsh is constantly interrupted by noisy bumps in the attic and sudden apparitions—most notably by specters of dead children and a sinister-looking woman dressed in funereal black (Liz White). Rather than beat a hasty retreat, Arthur actually opts to extend his stay and remain overnight in the awful house, where rather than actually doing his work he wanders around endless hallways with an inexhaustible supply of candles, investigating the late Mrs. Drablow’s familial history. (He’s also arranged for his son and the boy’s nanny to come visit him in Yorkshire!) It turns out that the Drablows, like the Dailys, had lost a young son. Not only that—the children of many local families have died in horrible accidents over the years, always shortly after a sighting of the woman in black.

By now you probably think you know where this story is going, and though there’s a bit of an embellishment, you’d be right. Even as gothic nonsense, the narrative here is trite, and it leaves the filmmakers nothing to operate with but the crudest genre cliches. So we’re treated to a cascade of loud noises, sudden appearances by birds flying into the frame, barely-glimpsed ghosts scuttering across the floor, wind-up toys that abruptly spring into action, candles suddenly going out, and the like. Otherwise there are reams of footage of Radcliffe fearfully stumbling about the mansion, always with his stiff collar and tie perfectly in place, looking not for Mrs. Drablow’s will but more clues about the spooky goings-on.

There are some nice elements to “The Woman in Black.” The Essex location is arresting; Kave Quinn’s production design, Paul Ghiradani and Kate Grimble’s art direction, and Niamh Coulter’s set decoration are all impressive; and Tim Maurice-Jones’ lustrous widescreen cinematography takes full advantage of them all. But Goldman’s script is bland and Watkins’ direction confuses lethargy with tension, and Radcliffe simply looks lost most of the time. Even old hands like Hinds and McTeer can only go through the motions, with the former looking especially embarrassed in the very silly last act, in which his car plays a prominent role. A coda makes what’s immediately preceded it pointless, but may satisfy those always looking for love to triumph, in this world or the next.

But Radcliffe should have brought along Harry’s wand and wished “The Woman in Black” away—or at least off his resume.