In Theaters

“The Mexican.” Gore Verbinski. Written by J.H. Wyman. 123 minutes. R

The new Gore Verbinski movie, “The Mexican,” stars Julia Roberts and Brad Pitt in their first cinematic pairing, a collaboration that promises a substantial box office opening before word of mouth hands it its last cigarette – and shoots it between the eyes.

The problem with the film isn’t just that its script conspires to keep Roberts and Pitt apart for most of the movie, but that it isn’t interested in being the romantic comedy DreamWorks suggests it is in its television ads. Instead, “The Mexican” is a two-hour road movie that feels like a weeklong slog.

On one level, Verbinski (“Mouse Hunt”) must have been aware of this because, throughout, he tries to compensate by hauling out his cast’s famous bag of tricks. Sometimes an actor’s quirky personality traits can help to lift a film, but when a director believes they’re enough to carry a film, the entire effort can go south of the border.

Such is the case with “The Mexican,” a film that relies so heavily on Roberts’ impossibly wide smile, her ostrich-like gate and her trash mouth – not to mention on Pitt’s devilish grin – it almost forgets it’s supposed to be about something.

In this case, that “something” is a legendary pistol called The Mexican, which Jerry (Pitt), a mob bagman, is ordered to retrieve in Mexico for his evil mob boss (Bob Balaban). But when Jerry’s girlfriend, the psychobabbling Sam (Roberts), learns of the job, she offers Jerry an ultimatum – it’s either her or the gun.

Afraid of being murdered, Jerry chooses Mexico, Sam leaves in a huff for Las Vegas – and into this mix comes the film’s one saving grace: James Gandolfini as Leroy, a hitman whose abduction of Sam results in the film’s most rewarding relationship.

Gandolfini may not be stretching here – Leroy is, after all, modeled after Tony Soprano, the character he plays on “The Sopranos.” But his bearish presence and calm are nevertheless what ground a movie that would have been unthinkably jittery without him in it. What’s better for Gandolfini is that it’s he – not Roberts or Pitt – who surprises us. Just how won’t be revealed here, but the twist surrounding his character is the best part of the movie, as it comes as a genuine shock.

Still, for all the hype surrounding the pairing of its two headlining stars, “The Mexican” mostly misfires. Armed with J.H. Wyman’s slight, humorless script and a director not up to the task, the film never strings its handful of good moments into an enjoyable, cohesive whole.

Grade: C-

On Video and DVD

“Meet the Parents.” Directed by Jay Roach, written by Jim Herzfeld and John Hamburg, based on a story by Greg Slienna and Mary Ruth Clarke. 105 minutes. PG-13.

One of last year’s biggest hits, Jay Roach’s “Meet the Parents” follows the unfortunately named Greg Focker (Ben Stiller), a klutzy male nurse from Chicago who falls in love with Pam Byrnes (Teri Polo), nearly proposes to her in a sudden rush of affection, but stops just short of doing so when it occurs to him that he should first get permission from Pam’s father.

As sweet as that is, Greg’s experience proves anything but when he and Pam fly to Long Island to spend a weekend at her parents’ home.

There, as the Byrneses prepare to marry off their other daughter, Debbie (Nicole DeHuff), we meet Pam’s parents – her neurotic mother, Dina (Blythe Danner), and her ruthless, fiercely overprotective father, Jack, a grimacing WASP played with sneering bravado by Robert De Niro.

“Meet the Parents” is the sort of film where one can learn how to milk a cat, how to potty train a cat, and, perhaps more refreshing, how one’s mother’s ashes can be used as a smart and sudden substitute for kitty litter.

Since it comes from Roach, who directed the Austin Powers movies, none of its raunch comes as a surprise. But what does surprise is how unforced its comedy is given the tight, often predictable demands of its narrow plot.

Roach and his screenwriters, Jim Herzfeld and John Hamburg, wisely keep the tension high between Greg and Jack, rarely skirting away from it to get an easy laugh from an easy joke. Instead, the humor comes from this tension and, by extension, from the film’s outlandish situations – such as when Greg, who’s Jewish, is asked to say grace at the dinner table, or when it occurs to Jack that if his daughter should marry Greg, her full married name would be Pam Martha Focker.

And that, in this funny film, is just unacceptable.

Grade: B+

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays in Style, Thursdays in the scene, Tuesdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5” and Thursdays on “NEWS CENTER at 5:30” on WLBZ-2 and WCSH-6.