Russell Brand fails to capture charm of original ‘Arthur’

And charm is the magical ingredient missing from "Arthur," a 21st-century revamp of the 1981 screwball comedy of the same name.

It’s not the only thing missing, alas.

Laughs prove in particularly short supply. So does heart.

Then again, I’ve seen the original "Arthur." I know the original "Arthur." And this "Arthur’s" no "Arthur."

Oh, it’s got the same title and pretty much the same storyline, focusing on a childlike, drunken heir who’s perfectly happy squandering the family billions.

That is, until the threat of an arranged marriage shakes him up — and sets the stage for romance with a penniless charmer who’s on the same whimsical wavelength as Arthur.

But the new "Arthur" offers a textbook illustration of that insightful old adage, "It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it."

Of course, any modern movie aiming to mine laughs from the perpetually sloshed title character has its work cut out for it. Alcoholism isn’t exactly a laughing matter these days.

To its credit, this "Arthur" doesn’t shy away from depicting its title character as an utter and unrepentant souse.

When we first meet Arthur Bach (Russell Brand), he and his chauffeur Bitterman (a droll Luis Gonzales) are preparing to crash his mother’s swanky charity fundraiser — costumed as Batman and Robin. Good thing Arthur just bought the Batmobile, so they can drive there in style.

As usual, however, Arthur’s madcap moves get him into trouble, attracting attention from New York’s Finest and grabbing inevitable tabloid headlines.

All too clearly, Something Must Be Done, as Arthur’s corporate titan of a mother (witheringly snooty Geraldine James) decrees. Or else Arthur will lose his luxuriously padded financial cushion forever.

That Something, she decides, will be marriage — with the overachieving Susan Johnson (a shrill Jennifer Garner), daughter of a self-made billionaire (Nick Nolte, having fun with the gruff stuff), who’s more than capable of managing the Bach family billions. Lord knows Arthur isn’t.

Never mind that they don’t love each other.

Well, actually, Arthur does mind, as he informs Hobson (suitably starchy Helen Mirren), his governess, who still makes his breakfast, scolds his frequent frivolities and foibles — and makes him wash his winkie in the bathtub.

Arthur minds even more when, on one of his midtown Manhattan sprees, he stops in at Grand Central Terminal — and runs into Naomi (indie stalwart Greta Gerwig, working the quirks a bit too hard), an unlicensed tour guide whose childlike innocence immediately captures Arthur’s heart.

Naturally, Arthur’s mother does not approve. Neither does Hobson, who’s only trying to spare Arthur from inevitable heartbreak, as she’s always done.

But Arthur, ever the overgrown child, wants what he wants when he wants it. Whether he figures out how to get it (and whether he really deserves it) are matters this "Arthur" explores in dogged — and undeniably draggy — fashion.

In adapting writer-director Steve Gordon’s original script, screenwriter Peter Baynham ("Borat," "Bruno") jettisons the wit in favor of a predictably rude and crude approach.

Which would be fine if that rude and crude humor were actually funny, but you can count the movie’s genuine laugh-out-loud moments on one hand. (Not that anyone’s counting — we’re all too busy trying to stay awake.)

Director Jason Winer ("Modern Family"), meanwhile, makes an uneasy transition from small- to big-screen comedy.

In addition to the movie’s plodding pacing and strained comedic approach, Winer shows little aptitude, or ability, when it comes to creating a consistent tone, balancing performance levels (this cast is all over the place, from barely there subtlety to in-your-face excess) and shifting between humorous and serious moments.

There’s always plenty of motion — but very little emotion.

And that, ultimately, is what keeps this "Arthur" from having any genuine impact.

Much of the blame may be traced to Arthur himself, Russell Brand, whose trademark out-there wackiness, on the surface, would seem to fit well with Arthur’s merry-prankster personality.

Yet his Arthur, while childlike, doesn’t have any of the sweetness or little-boy-lost charm of the original (the late, great Dudley Moore). He’s merely obnoxious, with a genuine talent for deluding himself — and alienating those around him.

Hobson, who remembers the little boy Arthur once was, makes allowances for his wretched excesses.

Those of us in the audience have no such store of fond memories — and no real reason to feel anything for this "Arthur." Except disappointment.

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