Grade: C+

Scholars of Old English are unlikely to think much of this film version of the old Anglo-Saxon poem about the heroic Beowulf and his life-or-death battles against the monstrous Grendel, Grendel’s vengeful mother and, later, a dragon. Simply put, it’s a “300”-style adaptation that turns its human cast into animated action figures; and though the story is a mythic rather than a historical one and the script sticks pretty closely to the tripartite scheme of the original, it feels as free to meddle with the plot as the Thermopylae movie did. In that regard perhaps the better comparison is to Wolfgang Petersen’s “Troy,” which turned “The Iliad” into a boys’ adventure tale, albeit without the motion-capture visuals employed here. This picture turns “Beowulf” into a boys’ adventure tale for the video-game age of decapitations and blood spurts. The overall effect resembles what might have resulted had the 1958 Kirk Douglas-Tony Curtis potboiler “The Vikings” been made with Dynamation effects by Ray Harryhausen, though this movie has a much darker, more brooding tone than any of the adventures made by that early effects master.

In this telling, Act One is actually quite close to the text. The grand opening of the new mead hall of Danish King Hrothgar (Anthony Hopkins) involves a lot of noisy merrymaking that understandably disturbs his neighbor Grendel (Crispin Glover), the hideously deformed creature that lives in a cave down in the valley and has abnormally sensitive hearing. With virulence that modern apartment dwellers bothered by the racket from the next flat might envy, Grendel smashes into the hall, disembowels and otherwise dislocates a good many of Hrothgar’s thegns, and retires with satisfaction at the restoration of quiet.

But soon there arrives on the scene brawny Beowulf (Ray Winstone) at the head of a group of stalwart Geats, the latest—it seems—of a succession of heroes who have come to kill Grendel under hope of a rich bounty from the king. All the others have perished, but Beowulf, a fellow with sinews of steel and bountiful self-confidence (as well as immediate eyes for Hrothgar’s lovely wife, Queen Wealthrow, plated by Robin Wright Penn), feels no fear and sets a trap for the beast by having the hall reopened and his men sing loudly. Grendel returns in a fury, and a terrific fight ensues, in the course of which Beowulf succeeds in ripping off one of the monster’s arms. Grendel slinks home to die of goop loss in the arms—or is it tentacles?—of his mother (Angelina Jolie).

It’s here that the script by Neil Gaiman and Roger Avery begins to take serious liberties. Grendel’s mother seeks to avenge her progeny, but in this telling she’s no gruesome hag but a svelte, seductive beauty (leading to the suspicion that, in a case of art imitating life, Grendel might have been adopted). When Beowulf comes to her underground lake lair to confront her, he’s smitten, and instead of disposing of her, reaches an agreement with her—sealed, shall we say, with a kiss—whereby he pretends to have killed the she-devil. In reaction Hrothgar—who, it turns out, had enjoyed an earlier assignation with Grendel’s mother, and was the father of the monster—kills himself after bequeathing his kingdom and wife to Beowulf.

Move to Act Three years later, where an older King Beowulf, enjoying the favors not only of Wealthrow but a younger mistress named Ursula (Alison Lohman), finds his realm under assault by a dragon—in this version, his son by Grendel’s mother. Another huge battle follows, in which Beowulf sacrifices himself to destroy the creature, in the process saving both his ladies and earning a brilliant Viking funeral. And, as the script repeatedly informs us, winning everlasting praise in song and story.

The innovations made to the rather threadbare and disconnected original by the scripters here aren’t entirely new; similar “improvements” to the plot have been made in previous adaptations of the story (see, for example, the 2005 “Beowulf & Grendel” with Gerard Butler and Stellan Skarsgaard). But in this case they’re given a decidedly comic-book feel, emphasizing jocular macho camaraderie (as between Beowulf and his best buddy, Brendan Gleeson’s Wiglaf), snippy male rivalry (in an episode between the hero and the cowardly Unferth, played by John Malkovich), and only semi-explicit sexuality (one of the funniest aspects of the picture is the inventiveness of the designers in situating visual obstructions in front of exposed portions of the nude bodies). And the performances by the doll-like simulacra of the actors (most fairly close to the originals, though the chunky Winstone is given a much sleeker physique) are extremely broad—and certainly not helped by the motion-capture technique, which, though improved from director Robert Zemeckis’ first use of it in “The Polar Express,” still leaves the figures looking waxen and stiff. (The facial movements are particularly unconvincing, and when horses are depicted galloping along, they look very unreal.)

To compensate, the backgrounds and foregrounds, courtesy of production designer Doug Chiang and art directors Norm Newberry and Greg Papalia, are often stunning as captured by Robert Presley’s widescreen cinematography, especially when viewed in the 3-D IMAX format (which is highly recommended for those with access to it), and the beasties look great (as does Jolie, with footwear that gets a good laugh). And the battle sequences—including a flashback to a duel between Beowulf and some sea monsters—are excitingly choreographed and designed. Kudos in that regard to editor Jeremiah O’Driscoll (though some of the other scenes plod in his hands). Alan Silvestri’s score is adequate to the purpose, too.

But ultimately “Beowulf” lacks as a film what it lacks as a poem—real humanity. Even making Beowulf a more flawed hero than he is in the text doesn’t work. And that failing is exacerbated in this telling by the technique used to bring the story to visual life, one that makes it look like an animated comic book or, even more, a video game. So those who lapped up the artificiality of “Sin City” or “300” will probably feel transports of delight in the effect. But others who prefer real people and places and things to computer-generated approximations will be less enchanted.