Discriminating viewers will probably know to steer clear of this one, in which wrestling impresario Vince McMahon insinuates himself into the world of cinema with an executive-producer credit showing the world that he made The Rock his bitch a long time ago. (For all I know, everyone in the film is a wrestler or a stripper, excepting Kelly Hu, who is a serious babe, and Michael Clark Duncan, who is a talented actor.) But if you're just out looking to fill some kind of goofy-action quota, you could do a lot worse than The Scorpion King.

Criticism of the story is sort of beside the point, so I'll just say there isn't one. Rather, we get some sketchy nonsense about a Joachim-Phoenix-in-Gladiator-like tyrant out to kill all those good people who oppose him and the half-naked sorceror (Hu) who provides him with much of his empire-conquering insight. Into this milieu lumbers Mathayus (The Rock), a warrior-for-hire who talks to camels and starts to take things personally when his two best buddies are dispatched by evil goons. Before you can ask what's cooking, our hero is sleeping with the enemy, storming the gates, chewing bubblegum and kicking ass. Smirks aplenty!

If The Mummy was ersatz Raiders of the Lost Ark, then this is ersatz Conan the Barbarian, with enough Gladiator thrown in to demonstrate that the filmmakers have no sense of history whatsoever. (Chuck Russell apparently got the job on the basis of his directing Arnold Schwarzenegger in Eraser, since nothing in his atrocious Bless the Child would have suggested this as a follow-up project.) The whole thing is as phony and as demographically focused as any WWF affair. There's plenty of T&A; on display but nary a nipple in sight, and while the sound effects make satisfying squish and splat noises, there's almost no blood visible on screen. That may appease the ancient gods of the MPAA, but it's a hell of a way to make a sword-and-sorcery epic. At least Excalibur and Conan had enough conviction to be lusty and violent in equally graphic measure. Please, somebody tell Hollywood that cartoon fire ants and snakes are not menacing. Not at all.

And yet. The action is all surface, with nothing in the way of plot or characterization to give it meaning, but the battle scenes are simple and energetic, like a goofy puppy. I'm not sure The Rock can really carry a movie, but he's a likable enough musclehead to keep the wheels underneath this one turning. And there's a refreshing absence of smugness and pretension that suggests The Scorpion King is content to wallow around in its B-movie shallows, splashing water and giggling its manly giggles. (It was produced by a company called Alphaville Films, but I'll let that pass.) Did I mention Kelly Hu's costumes? No, it's not a particularly good movie, but it's entertaining enough if you allow it to be, and conveniently brief - after just 90 minutes, you can get on with your life.