Not including the lady killed in front of her kid early in the rock-stupid mayhem of 10,000 BC, I count approximately two (2) women among thousands of hysterically testosteronic men. One has psychic powers, but she's a clay-crusted crone, so no wars are fought over her. The other, with the dainty name of Evolet (the still-evolving Camilla Belle, recently disconnected in When a Stranger Calls), is the alluring, blue-eyed adopted mascot of a prehistoric tribe of mammoth hunters. Ev is the beloved of moody hero-in-training D'Leh (as yet indistinguishable Steven Strait, soon in Stop-Loss), and the favorite of marauding invaders one of whom scoops her up and carries her away across the mists of time, space, and computer-graphic possibilities. The musical beat in the background suggests tribal council on Survivor, except when it sounds like ''Macarena.''
Without Evolet, standing in for all Mesolithic womanhood, who will breed warriors for the Neolithic Age? And who will sew all the bric-a-brac costumes of the men fighting each other (and giant CGI ostriches, too) in this blowhard saga from b.s. (as in blowhard saga) specialist Roland Emmerich (Independence Day)? Neither grand enough to be impressive nor antic enough to be charming, the movie settles for bland and frantic, climaxing in a showdown among decadent pyramid builders. How bad are these guys? They're sadists...and, wink wink, sissies. D