I have a too-much-ordering-on-amazon.com problem, but it could be worse. At least when I log on, it’s my credit card that gets killed, not me.

When folks most of them female, most of them topless log onto “Feardotcom,” they die in 48 hours. Cop Stephen Dorff wonders why. So does coroner Natascha McElhone. You may wish they’d put their heads together and try to head off those annoying pop-up Internet ads but, instead, they work on the die-in-48-hours thing.

Actually, the Internet premise is intriguing. What could be killing these people? So it’s a mystery why the movie tarts it up with a mysterious white ball, dream sequences that realize the dreamer’s worst fear and a superfluous homicidal maniac. By the time all that stuff gets piled on, “Feardotcom” begins to resemble one of those complex, expensively ugly sweaters with ridges and stripes in 500 different colors.

This is not the only problem with “Feardotcom.” The movie is set in New York, but it was shot in Luxembourg, so everyone’s accent is phony. That’s especially true of Irish actor Stephen Rea, who plays the aforementioned maniac, using an Eastern seaboard lockjaw that makes it sound like he’s been taking tea with William F. Buckley and Hannibal Lecter.

Also, why is it that no one ever turns on the lights, even in the morgue, where you’d think they’d want to be able to see whom they’re disemboweling? And then there’s the off-key dialogue. At one point, a mom looks at an investigator’s photo and says, “Oh, it’s the old steel mill. Jeannie used to play there as a child.” Yeah, because kids love abandoned steel mills almost as much as their parents love to have them play in them.

“Feardotcom” is better-acted than you’d expect, and it has a few interesting ideas about voyeurism and the Internet. Still, despite the up-to-the-minute trappings, there’s nothing here that’s newer than rotary-dial phones.