You will be forgiven while watching this film for wondering if, instead of hitting the play button, you have stumbled upon some weird channel that’s a cross between the Lifetime and Cinemax networks. “Truth” is an odd mix of lurid melodrama, campy sex scenes and faux sensationalism. Egoyan seems completely at a loss with his material and out of touch with contemporary sensibility. Not many people stand to be shocked by his set pieces: a dead girl in a bathtub, celebrities indulging in pills, pot and sex. Instead of holding these scenes up for commentary, he gloats over them as if intending to frighten whatever innocent little old lady accidentally wandered into the theater on her way to “Ladies in Lavender.”

Perhaps the biggest mystery of “Where the Truth Lies” is why it was made in the first place. Bacon makes the best of what he’s given, but he and Firth are mostly wasted, left with nothing much to do except recite silly dialogue opposite relative newcomer Lohman, who, with her doe eyes and elfin voice, was terribly miscast and comes off as a high-school reporter in way over her head. But it’s hard to blame the actors here. The truth was lying right before everyone. This one was DOA from the beginning. S