A cast that can neither sing nor dance, a director who three times breaks the 180-degree rule (and that’s just in the opening credits!), and musical numbers butted together to make way for untold minutes of vanilla babble position this wretched remake of the almost-as-appalling John Huston paycheck somewhere between Sgt. Pepper’s Lonely Hearts Club Band and Mame as one the most egregiously unattractive musicals ever filmed. Call her Little Foster Kid Annie – the offending term “orphan” has been sidelined in favor of a rougher-on-the-tongue, more socially pliable handle. Quvenzhané Wallis doesn’t have the mini-Merman pipes needed to belt out the film’s signature song. The hauntingly frozen stare that announced her arrival in Beasts of the Southern Wild thaws to reveal a talented kid actor unable to connect with light musical comedy fare. Even the dependably evil Miss Hannigan, Annie’s beastly, hard-drinking jailer, has been sanitized to a point beyond effectiveness. Cameron Diaz — shown only once with booze in hand — plays her with all the subtlety of Lucille Ball high trying to claw her way out of luggage. One minor point of character: Jamie Foxx’s Herculean spit-takes, strong enough to drown an army of ersatz Danny Thomas spritzers. So bad, it may actually warrant a fifth viewing. Directed by Will “From Easy A to What the ‘F?’” Gluck. (2014) — Scott Marks