What happens when you combine mediocre fiction with a lame film script and a girl who has a hard time being believable in anything?

You get The Nanny Diaries.

Apparently, Scarlett Johansson’s new movie is not just bad, but super bad (and not in that funny, quirky movie of the same title way). Critics everywhere are devouring it and spitting it back out, leaving only the incorporable Laura Linney unscathed. They say she does a good job being a rich bitch.

Everyone else? Horrible.

ScarJo included. Critics picked apart everything from her “leaden screen presence” to her “flustered mannerisms that smack of one too many Woody Allen projects” (seriously, the guy loves her. It’s weird).

As someone who hasn’t been able to believe Ms. Johansson in almost anything she’s done since Lost in Translation, I can’t say I’m surprised.

She’s hot, I’ll give her that, but I’m not sure a family comedy is her forte. I’m not even sure comedy is her forte. She smolders, sure. But she doesn’t pop. Or make me laugh. Ever.

Plus, even though the book was a bestseller, it certainly wasn’t literary gold. You can’t just cut up a beach read and put it on the screen, especially when you’re dealing with issues like class, money, and absentee parenting.

Of course, the big issue The Nanny Diaries might be dealing with is the beautification of an often thankless, ridiculous job. Very rarely does a girl find comic relief in the awfulness of people who have too much money, a boyfriend in the same building, or satisfying, happy ending.

Believe me, I nannied in this city for years, and it was quite the opposite of pretty.