'Formula 51' puts Jackson in a kilt, then skirts the plot

After all the gunplay, explosions, foul-mouthed witticisms, and bloody carnage that fuel this amusingly forgettable trifle, "Formula 51" is fundamentally about Samuel L. Jackson in a kilt.

There's the overly complex story about his character, Elmo McElroy, a genius chemist who flees California for working-class England to sell the recipe for an über-recreational drug that will keep Liverpudlian rave kids ecstatic for the rest of the century, but it's really all about the kilt.

"Formula 51" was released in the U.K. almost a year ago (under the title "The 51st State"), and pieces of it have the drolly ironic tone of Guy Ritchie on a good day. Director Ronny Yu is a veteran Hong Kong action master, so you can also bank on the handful of crisply choreographed fight and car-chase scenes.

Unfortunately, the sum of these parts is rarely enough to add up to much more than Samuel L., his kilt, and what he does or doesn't have on underneath.

A few other bits give interesting edge to an otherwise preposterous comic actioner. Robert Carlyle is in typical frothing-mouthed fury as Elmo's sidekick from the Liverpool underworld — an obsessed football fan carrying a torch for an ex-girlfriend who just happens to be the assassin-for-hire out to get Elmo.

Lovely British lass Emily Mortimer plays said assassin with great panache, especially when she's interacting with Elmo's kilt.

There's a riotous bit of bravura overacting by Rhys Ifans (Hugh Grant's slovenly roommate in "Notting Hill") as an arms dealer/club maven/drug lord who has a way with words but a problem with inner peace.

Meat Loaf again displays his uncertain acting talent as The Lizard, an L.A. crime boss with a skin condition and an annoying penchant for referring to himself in the third person.

If dramatic elements remain lacking, the disturbing premise of a super-drug as heroic center gets a nice comeuppance — as does the kilt.

Stick around for the credits.

Ted Fry: tedfry@earthlink.net.