Then again, the makers of "The Forbidden Kingdom" probably hope you won't think too much.

They've certainly piled on enough eye candy to provide plenty of distraction. To say nothing of martial arts legends Jackie Chan and Jet Li in their first-time-ever teaming onscreen. They're ably abetted by "wire-fu" master Woo-ping Yuen, the fight choreographer behind the martial-arts ballets of "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" and "Kill Bill."

Yet, as "The Forbidden Kingdom" wends its way into, and through, some fanciful territory, we can't help feeling as though we've been here many (too many) times before, in movies as different as "The Wizard of Oz" and "Star Wars."

(And those of us old enough to remember 1977's uproarious "Kentucky Fried Movie," an early project from the zany folks behind the "Airplane!" and "Naked Gun" franchises, undoubtedly recall the way its twisted Bruce Lee spoof, "A Fistful of Yen," morphs into "The Wizard of Oz.")

Chances are "The Forbidden Kingdom's" target audience is too young to know, or care, about how derivative it all seems.

They'll be focusing on the kung-fu fighting -- and on Jason (a callow, shallow Michael Angarano), a South Boston teen whose amazing journey inspires the movie.

Crazy about kung-fu movies, Jason finds the vintage titles he loves at a Chinatown pawnshop run by Old Hop (Chan), whose artifact-strewn backroom contains an elaborate golden staff -- a staff Jason tries to use when local toughs try to rob Old Hop's shop.

But a funny thing happens when Jason grabs the staff; it magically teleports him back to ancient China, where the ruthless Jade Warlord (Collin Chau) and his army are busy wreaking bloody havoc on a defenseless populace.

Lucky for Jason (and for us), the drunken kung-fu master Lu Yan (also played by that rubber-legged charmer Chan) turns up to rescue him. And, conveniently, to explain how, and why, Jason must return the golden staff to the Jade Warlord's palace, where its rightful owner, the nimble Monkey King (Li), has been trapped in stone for centuries.

In addition to the Monkey King, Li also plays a monk. The Silent Monk, whose fast 'n' furious fighting style provides a definite contrast to Chan's sly drunk-fu. That is, until they discover they're both on the same side and team up to transform Jason into an expert kung-fu fighter. (Calling Master Yoda ...)

Also joining their quest: the orphaned Golden Sparrow (Liu Yufei), who's determined to avenge her parents' death at the hands of the Jade Army. Her fighting prowess proves most fortuitous when our intrepid heroes encounter the witchy, white-haired Ni Chang (Li Bing Bing), one of the Jade Warlord's most intimidating allies.

Their climactic battle amid the Jade Palace's splendors (splendidly realized by production designer Bill Brzeski) delivers a suitably slam-bang combination of computer-generated effects and high-flying wire-fu. (As usual, the low-tech flying seems far more magical than the high-tech, computerized effects.)

In between all the flying feet and flying fists, however, "The Forbidden Kingdom" plods along even more wearily than our weary travelers.

Or maybe it only feels that way, considering screenwriter John Fusco's lumbering narrative structure and leaden dialogue. Fusco ("Young Guns," "Hidalgo") likes to dabble in myth and appropriates more than a few for "The Forbidden Kingdom," plundering various sources (from 16th-century fantasy epics to 20th-century pulp fiction) as he goes.

Yet Fusco's screenplay never manages to transform these borrowed elements into a unified whole. Instead, "The Forbidden Kingdom" resembles the cinematic equivalent of chop suey, supplementing its tasty chop-socky with a variety of ingredients so tired you may find yourself supplying hallowed movie catch phrases (from "Use the Force, Luke!" to "There's no place like home") to replace Fusco's pedestrian lines.

Continuing his transition from animation ("The Lion King") to live action ("Stuart Little," "The Haunted Mansion"), director Rob Minkoff tries mightily to keep "The Forbidden Kingdom" on course -- particularly in between all those kicky kung-fu sequences. Despite a dynamic visual sense, however, Minkoff can't overcome the script's essential dragginess and predictability.

Ultimately, the movie emerges as a martial-arts variation on a middling musical with knockout dance numbers. It'll be tons of fun on DVD, when we can fast-forward to the good stuff and skip the plodding plot.

On the big screen, though, we're stuck sitting through each and every minute. And not even the powerhouse combination of Chan's crack comic timing and Li's zen-master intensity can make this movie move fast enough to keep up with its resident speed demons.

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