“I Am Legend”

Let’s hope that rule doesn’t apply when it comes to cinematic adaptations of "I Am Legend," because the third time’s hardly the charm.

Richard Matheson’s legendary 1954 tale — about the last uninfected survivor of a cataclysmic plague that’s transformed his fellow human beings into ravenous vampires — has inspired three movie adaptations. (To say nothing of writers from Stephen King to Dean Koontz.)

Onscreen, Vincent Price got there first in 1964 as "The Last Man on Earth." Charlton Heston followed as 1971’s "The Omega Man."

At least "I Am Legend" retains Matheson’s title — if not much of his plot or his stark, spare narrative — as Will Smith becomes the latest incarnation of Matheson’s solitary survivor.

Or, more precisely, "I Am Legend" reshapes Matheson’s protagonist to suit Smith’s well-established persona.

As a result, the original character (who’s at least as fierce and brutal as the bloodthirsty creatures after him) is nowhere to be seen onscreen.

Instead, we get noble, dedicated military scientist Robert Neville (Smith), whose mysterious immunity to a killer virus designed as a cancer cure has enabled him to survive in the midst of an all-but-deserted Manhattan.

Oh, there are still a few living things around in 2012, three years after the plague first hits. Weeds poke through the asphalt on the sidewalks and streets of New York. Herds of deer dash through the concrete canyons, stalked by the occasional lion.

And let’s not forget the infected creatures who managed to survive the virus, even if their humanity didn’t. Like all good vampires, they only come out at night — screaming and slavering until they’re able to sink their fangs into whatever moves.

Good thing Robert’s immune to whatever’s making them that way, because he’s determined to trap them and continue his solo research in hopes of finding an antidote.

He also sends out a daily radio broadcast in hopes of reaching fellow survivors. If there are any, that is, besides himself and his faithful canine companion, Sam.

With its ominous depiction of a feral, abandoned Manhattan, "I Am Legend" begins with a definite bang.

Alas, it’s mostly downhill from there.

The screenplay, by Akiva Goldsman ("I, Robot," "The Da Vinci Code") and Mark Protosevich ("Poseidon"), introduces a few intriguing elements. Most notable: the question of how you can possibly maintain your humanity when your survival may depend on losing it.

But director Francis Lawrence ("Constantine") doesn’t have time to explore such thematic complexities. He’d rather cut to the chase.

As a result, "I Am Legend" zooms through fleeting food-for-thought passages so Lawrence can get to the run-and-gun action.

The movie runs and it guns, all right — especially when Lawrence unleashes Oscar-winning cinematographer Andrew Lesnie ("The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Rings") with a hand-held camera so jittery it’s almost enough to give you motion sickness.

Motion, yes. Emotions, no.

Even in its most overwrought moments — and there are more than a few — "I Am Legend" never generates the kind of emotional force that would enable those of us in the audience to share Neville’s anguish. Instead, it’s as if we’re observing one of Neville’s experiments, noting the story’s developments but never feeling its impact.

Then again, Will Smith is probably the wrong person to cast if you’re going for vulnerability and desperation. From his big-screen breakthrough in 1996’s "Independence Day" to his Oscar-nominated turn in last year’s "Pursuit of Happyness," Smith radiates confident (sometimes cocky) ease. And while he manages some affecting moments, especially in poignant flashback scenes, there’s little doubt that Smith’s Neville, regardless of the challenges, will figure out a way to vanquish the bloodsuckers before they put the bite on him.

As a result, "I Am Legend" is neither as suspenseful — nor as haunting — as its legendary source material.

But that’s hardly a surprise. Hollywood proves yet again that you can’t judge a book by its movie.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or (702) 383-0272.