Please go see other movie.

Here’s some critic inside baseball: When a studio screens their film for the press at 6:30 p.m. on a Thursday — well after the public in some cities can already pay to see it — that is not a promising sign.

Such is the case with “Other Mommy,” the rancid new horror flick starring Jessica Chastain that for 93 minutes I longed to be emancipated from.

Should you masochists make it to the end, you will feel noticeably dumber after you leave. You might walk into a sliding glass door, or try to pay for groceries with your laundry card. 5 x 2 = 7.

Directed by Rob Savage, moronic “Other Mommy” has been coasting for months on the anticipation built by its creepy trailer, which showed an Oscar-winning actress unnervingly playing dual roles: A suburban mom and her sinister doppelgänger that menacingly stalks a child.

That viral clip also included the movie’s sole successful moment, when a grinning woman is cooking pasta for her little daughter. But there’s something off about her. She’s not mommy at all — she’s Other Mommy! That’s the very first scene. There’s nothing even slightly scary after that, despite Chastain being so admirably intense it looks like she’s trying to force an aneurysm. Can you blame her?

Savage has also claimed there is upwards of 50 jump scares in his movie, which is much like bragging that you cooked a donut with a ton of trans fat. I counted just twenty-two. That led me to beg an existential question: If nobody jumps or is scared, what exactly is a jump scare?

The idea of Nathan Elston’s screenplay isn’t really a new one. Malevolent imaginary friends also haunt kids in movies like “Come Play” or, in a way, “The Babadook.” Those meh-to-terrific tales tap into base-level youthful fears: What’s in the closet? What’s under the bed?

Of course, at “Other Mommy” the only question is: Did the filmmakers kidnap Jessica Chastain?! The movie begins with a delusional quote from Greek mythology, as if it’s a biopic of Winston Churchill and not a defective reject from the schlock factory. The words are credited to Erebus, a being born of Chaos who’s the god of darkness, about his desire to become human. 

That’s also the dream of evil Other Mommy, who lives in little Bela’s closet and comes out when her parents, Ursula and Russell (Chastain and Jay Duplass), are away. “Let me into your heart,” she says.

It’s difficult to grasp the rules of this creature, who can also morph into other people. My best guess is there aren’t any. For instance, in one stupid sequence that’s trying to be Stephen King’s “It,” the family is in a fast food restaurant play area, when Other Mommy follows Bela into the ball pit. At the end, somehow the plastic balls teleport into their car, the girl’s bedroom and, the biggest stumper, the ocean. 

If you’re annoyed at reading the phrase Other Mommy over and over, you’ll be infuriated watching the movie, because that’s what every character calls it.

Later on, a ghost hunter declares, “We’re not afraid of you, Other Mommy! Your fun is over!”. Savage and Elston try to pump in some backstory and drama. Ursula has been stepping out on the marriage with the couple’s friend Frank (Arian Moayed), and her supernatural-obsessed mom Ruth (Karen Allen) is estranged from the family.

But those feeble attempts at story and Chastain’s commitment can’t pave over a complete lack of build, skillful pacing and fright. Russell and Ursula discover Other Mommy in the movie’s first 10 minutes, never once doubt its existence and ultimately try to kill it using an axe and a meat cleaver. 

Who brings a knife to a god fight?

Before that thoughtless climax, Ursula points to a table covered in sharp, dangerous weapons and tells her eight-year-old child to “pick one.”

Tempting!