Barry Sonnenfeld, director of Men in Black and Get Shorty, adapts the cult television series. The story, like the show, is set in a post-Civil War America struggling with its reunified destiny. The country is about to be conquered by charismatic confederate Arliss Loveless (played here with panache and no legs by Kenneth Branagh); backing President Grant and the Union are two government agents, dapper gunslinger Jim West (played by Will Smith) and inventor Artemus Gordon (Kevin Kline).

The film arrives DOA in its first half hour, as Sonnenfeld and his team of screenwriters deliver not one, not two, but three consecutive action sequences set in crowded rooms with scantily clad women huddling in the wings. The scenes are dark, dull, and--with the persistent presence of prostitutes--needlessly randy.

Once Sonnenfeld and master cinematographer Michael Ballhaus move outdoors, though, the brighter light illuminates the leads a little more--especially Kline, who is almost poignant in his portrayal of a wide-eyed gadget hound and "master of disguise" who doesn't even know what a woman's breasts are supposed to feel like. Equally cool are the gadgets themselves, all pneumatic and rickety.

Still, the pans are mostly justified. Female lead Salma Hayek is purposeless, the close-up fight scenes are too complicated to follow, and except for Branagh's big (probably self-penned) speeches, there's nothing snappy about the dialogue. What is worth praising is a level of visual invention and narrative spark that's rare for an expensive summer time-waster. Between Smith's suave brutality, Kline's foggy romanticism, and Sonnenfeld's giddy contrasting of the Western landscape with steam-powered contraptions, Wild Wild West almost achieves an enjoyable style.

My biggest quibble is that the film ends just when it's finally getting its newer, funkier rhythm together. That's one thing that Wild Wild West has in common with most would-be studio franchises--it's all introduction and no get-to-know-ya.