The fourth and purportedly final Final Destination offered an anemic take on the art of cheating death. Likewise, this fifth installment could use a few extra platelets. Director Steven Quale, formerly an apprentice under James Cameron, shifts his attention from the obligatory but unnecessary plot—chef-in-waiting Sam (Nicholas D'Agosto) has a vision that a collapsing bridge will kill his friends and the reaper follows in hot pursuit—to money shots of Rube Goldberg-like kill scenes. This time around we learn to fear acupuncture, LASIK surgery and miscalculated jumps from gymnastic high bars. Quale gets points for economical use of a shoestring plot and stealthy sequencing of visual cues, but the shock value flags when the rolling eyeballs, cracked skulls and sizzling skin prove to be as forgettable as the cosmic bloopers that caused them. By Kathy Justice