Starring Marlee Matlin. Rated PG. Opens Friday, February 17, at the Cinemark Tinseltown

You're eating your oatmeal. You wonder: am I real? Is the universe real? Can I make freaky things happen in the universe just by thinking about them? What the Bleep!? Down the Rabbit Hole-an extended-play take on the mind-whacking smashup of questionable quantum physics, spaced-out spirituality, and psychotherapy pep talk that is the original 2004 What the Bleep?!-will give you answers (sort of), and new, more disturbing questions. Like, how the bleep does an ancient warrior from Atlantis get inside a middle-aged blond lady from New Mexico who looks like Barbara Eden and sounds like Lena Olin?

Ramtha, 35,000-year-old mystic ("channelled" by so-called psychic JZ Knight) morphed into New Agey enlightenment teacher, is the only old dude from the lost continent among Rabbit Hole's talking heads (now 47 minutes chattier than the first installment). Physicists, neurologists, molecular biologists, theologians, et al wax earnest about how very, very radical quantum mechanics is (hasn't it been around awhile?), and how, hmm, science and spirituality really aren't mutually exclusive. In a simplistic dramatization applying these theories to "real" life is a stunned-looking Marlee Matlin as a pill-popping wedding photographer who hates men and her thighs. Cheesy cartoons feature pretentious superhero "Dr. Quantum" and CG'd dancing blobs, I mean, peptides. It's the After-School Special of Wave-Particle Theory.

Rabbit Hole spirals into those freaky questions about the universe, consciousness, perception, and how even when we think we are just observers our thoughts are hookah-smokin' powerful. Matlin's mind "directs" a bouncing basketball and the prayers of a Japanese "doctor" "shape" freezing water molecules. Lasering us with his/her '60s black-lined eyes, Ramtha chastises: "If you can't control your emotional state, you must be addicted to it." Our attitude affects our body and our emotions!

Rabbit Hole's quantum logic feels monkeyed to the directors' (no less than three of them) psychospiritual agenda. They're reputedly hooked to Ramtha, that sneaky warrior who encourages our evolution from "fearful entities to fearless". This doesn't feel quite so supportive when Matlin's photographer illustrates her newfound empowerment by drawing purple lines all over herself, then wandering outside in a beatific daze.

We didn't need a 151-minute version of a message that belongs at the bottom of the ocean, right next to bleep!?in' Atlantis.