If nothing else, the new movie "Mr. Brooks" emphasizes once again the significance of the serial killer, who now occupies a commanding position in popular literature and cinema, not to mention the daily newspapers. Whether for some unfathomable reason the present era somehow spawns them or whether law enforcement and the media, especially the innumerable documentary crime shows, now widely publicize their existence, those special criminals apparently thrill readers and viewers. The success of Thomas Harris' novels and the movies they inspired, for example, suggest the power of the monster - thanks in part to Anthony Hopkins, Hannibal Lecter remains one of the most memorable characters in contemporary film, a truly fascinating villain.

"Mr. Brooks" employs yet another version of the character, a man who once again manages to enlist the viewer on his side. To begin with, because Kevin Costner, who generally stars as a good guy of one sort or another, either in action movies or comedies, plays the title character, he probably appeals more immediately and directly to an audience than Hopkins. Unlike Hannibal, Earl Brooks seems anything but a monster, which makes it quite easy for the filmmakers to establish some sympathy and turn the killer into a credible human being, not so different, after all, from the rest of us and perhaps even someone we hope will elude the law.

The movie opens with Mr. Brooks speaking at a banquet, graciously thanking the Portland, Oregon Chamber of Commerce for naming him their Man of the Year. Rich, successful, married to an attractive, loving wife (Marg Helgenberger), he also enjoys the companionship of a sinister, fully embodied alter ego, whom he calls Marshall (William Hurt). Marshall, who appears only to Brooks, personifies the dark side of Brooks' psyche, goading him with his sly, insinuating manner into actions that Brooks initially resists but cannot stop himself committing.

The dialogues between Marshall and Brooks obviously indicate the split personality that apparently typifies serial killers - their friends and neighbors always describe them as quiet fellows who read the Bible - who conceal a monster beneath an exterior of normality. Brooks, who even attends AA meetings, considers himself an addict who succumbs to an overpowering desire to kill. He apparently prefers to knock off copulating couples and, like most of his kind, appears to derive a transcendent delight from the act.

Brooks initiates the movie's major plot by killing a pair of lovers, something he's avoided for some years until his addiction - in the person of Marshall - overcomes his self control. This time, however, a voyeur with a camera (Dane Cook) snaps some pictures of the act and blackmails Brooks, not for money, but since he experienced such a rush from watching, for the chance to participate in one of his murders. Without much choice in the matter, Brooks (and Marshall) acquiesce, instructing the novice in the careful methodology of the serial killer who wants to avoid discovery.

Adding to the relatively simple plot, the script attaches a few other lines of action for some frequently factitious complications, including Brooks' fear that his spoiled, dishonest, daughter Jane (Danielle Panabaker), a college dropout, has inherited his propensity to kill. Although the picture of course demands the presence of law enforcement, it spends entirely too much time on the personal problems of Detective Tracy Atwood (Demi Moore). A most improbable character, the daughter of a multimillionaire, in between investigating Brooks and hunting down another serial killer who has escaped from death row, she struggles with an expensive divorce from a leech of a husband. Why all that occupies the screen is anybody's guess.

Although Kevin Costner manages his role quite competently and now and then displays a certain ironic pleasure in his manipulation of the blackmailer, he still seems perhaps too controlled and understated, rarely displaying much emotion in any context, except for his apparent ecstasy when he floats around the room in a strange slow motion dance after his first kill, a most disturbing moment. William Hurt's supercilious nastiness contrasts sharply with Costner's passivity, underlining the fact of another self lurking beneath the surface of an ordinary personality, another Mr. Hyde concealed in yet another Dr. Jekyll.

"Mr. Brooks" (R), directed by Bruce A. Evans, is now playing at area theaters.