Did they have thong underwear in the Old West? It's a small issue that arises when an Oriental lovely lifts her skirt to seduce the hero James West (Smith), a federal agent out to nab the evil Dr. Arliss Loveless (Branagh), a legless, embittered Civil War officer who is determined to kill President Grant and take over the country.

The point is that there's barely a whiff of the spirit of the West in this Western comedy. Sure, James West rides a horse and shoots a bunch of people with a pistol, but he also clothes-lines them. In fact, Wild Wild West stands as a multimillion-dollar example of imagination at its laziest. Instead of trying to work within the setting, the filmmakers pretty much ignore it for the sake of big-deal effects in the form of The Tarantula, a giant spider-like machine used by Dr. Loveless to spread ruin. So much for sharp-shooting.

Then there's the old mismatched-partners theme brought out yet again to tepid effect. West is the sexy, brute-force, instinctive type, while Artemus Gordon (Kline) is the cerebrally sweet and whimsical inventor who'd rather think his way through a sticky situation than shoot, which brings up the next question:

Why'd they do it? Perhaps Branagh and Kline signed up for their roles to make some money to see them through their other projects which usually don't gross what this film will probably make in its opening weekend.

As Dr. Loveless, Branagh puts on the most wonderfully old Southern accent. It's all rounded vowels and mint-julep-y, just the sort of accent you'd imagine from an old Civil War officer. He evokes a graciousness even when offering the most heinous of threats. It's a fine performance. Unfortunately, you can't build a movie around an accent.

The filmmakers do, however, try to build it around the box-office draw of Will Smith and his widespread appeal. As the cool but flappable James West, Smith is game, but the material is weak and he's without the technique needed to create something from it the way Branagh does with Loveless. It might have helped had he had a character stronger than Kline's Gordon to bounce against, but Kline plays it too straight and steady to be of any use.

So, finally, Is it worth it? Mostly no. Hardcore Smith fans might want to give it a shot, and it's just getting hot enough that the deep-freeze temperatures of the theatres could provide some relief.

If you're still on the fence, consider this: At a recent screening the theatre was packed with small kids, and before the credits their teacher kept walking up and down the aisles telling them to shut up, shut up, shut up. Frankly, she was making more noise than the kids. Despite some initial nervous giggling over a few poorly disguised innuendoes, the kids made nary a peep. Not a sound.