Simply put, James Bond should be simply put.

Take his music. That Monty Norman's classic tune can be straightforward enough to instantly stick in one's head yet sophisticated enough to instantly trigger one's imagination is a minor miracle, not to be overlooked. It calls for a precise interplay of uncomplicated but carefully wrought elements: the tensely chromatic rise and fall of the bass, the edgy twang of crafty appoggiaturas, wailing brass punctuation in all the right places. It's just so. What the music doesn't need is a techno beat underneath.

But the new James Bond flick gives it one. In fact, the The World Is Not Enough seems to do its best to put a techno beat under the whole picture. The whole thing is ultimately too souped up for its own good; perhaps a strange complaint for a Bond film, but there's a fine line between class and crass. It almost seems as though James Bond himself is set at odds with his style of movie-making. 007 is a man of simple pleasures and simple motivations; get the girl, save the world. Sure, he uses expensive gadgets and blows up expensive things, but these are just tools of his imperturbable savoir faire, proof that he has no compunction eliminating whatever obstacles are in his way. The whole point of James Bond, at least as drawn up by Ian Flemming and fleshed out by Sean Connery, is that no matter what's thrown at him, he maintains his ultimate unflappability, his killer charm and his perfect tie knot. He's suave machismo, elegant deadliness and rugged finesse, bottled. He's cooler than you. This is why he gets all the girls. All the elaborate stuff he does is just to make this clear.

Or should be, anyway. The World Is Not Enough seems to take inordinate pride in the elaborate stuff for the elaborate stuff's sake. Of course, that's what a Bond movie means nowadays. People expect there to be lavish stunts and overwhelming explosions wherever 007 wends his way, and there's nothing wrong with that, on paper. Hey, cool stuff is cool, I know that. The thing is, when film sequences are designed with the idea of being extravagant specifically in mind, they inevitably turn out muddled and less than satisfying. Think back to really effective action sequences in recent movies, and you'll see it was their simplicity which made them compelling: from the straightforward careening of the bus in Speed, to the unpretentious mano y mano fighting in The Matrix. In the modern Bond world, everything must turn on fancy gizmos, fancier gizmos to counteract the original fancy gizmos, and if there's time, some more fancy gizmos, all of which have been concocted for the express purpose of being featured in fancy action sequences. And everything must not only blow up but cause the ubiquitous gasoline barrels which litter the landscape to blow up as well, for good measure. Because everything is bogged down in this paradigm, the sequences are unimaginatively staged and disjointedly shot. Everything is strictly for its own sake; nothing is simple.

Is The World Is Not Enough watchable in its own right? I suppose so, but just make sure you have the right expectations. There are definitely impressive stunts, nifty special effects and attractive women. Pierce Brosnan well champions Bond's character in the face of the hoopla; his sardonic smirking and other unruffled debonair mannerisms are spot on, plus, he looks astoundingly good in dinner-wear. Sophie Marceau is quite passable as the requisite mysteriously alluring Bond conquest, and although Denise Richards really can't act, she's rather easy on the eyes. There are atrocious puns galore, some of which are kind of funny, some of which I wish I could unhear. John Cleese puts in a far-too-brief appearance as R, Q's new assistant, which is a real breath of fresh air.

All in all, though, it's your standard dumb movie, probably no more nor less than you expected. By trying to tap into the 007 legacy and tradition, it sets itself and the audience up for disappointment. I'm convinced it would have better if it wasn't a Bond film.