Natalie Portman's bare bum!

OK, that's more than a bit of false advertising, since I have no pictures of Natalie Portman's bottom to share with you (but, of course, one of the many wonders of Al Gore's Internet is you can find one for yourself in about 30 seconds if you want to.)

Instead, that headline is an alert that, if you go see Wes Anderson's "The Darjeeling Limited" this weekend, you will also (provided you get there on time) get to see the short film "Hotel Chevalier," which proceeds and factors into the main flick near the end. And, yes, Natalie's rather attractive derriere does make an appearance, but the short co-starring Jason Schwartzman also has several other charms.

As for the main flick, "Darjeeling Limited," I found it to be ... fairly maddening. Not awful, by any stretch, but a mild disappointment at least.

Let's start with the positives. Like all Wes Anderson's movies, it is simply a delight to look at. He clearly has love for the Indian subcontinent, and that comes across in the vivid colors that flow throughout the journey of the Whitman brothers, played by Adrien Brody, Jason Schwartzman and Owen Wilson. What I fear he no longer has enough of, however, is affection for the main characters who inhabit this often fauvist landscape.

I fell in love with Wes Anderson's movies the second I met Jason Schwartzman's Max Fischer in 'Rushmore," one of the great movie underdogs of all time. I felt the same connection to Owen Wilson's Dignan when I quickly thereafter rented "Bottle Rocket" (and then subsequently added it to my video collection.)

But for me, "Royal Tenenbaums" was even better than both of those, because it represented a huge visual leap forward for Anderson but still was populated with equally vivid characters to root for. And then came "Steve Zissou," a debacle he clearly hasn't yet completely recovered from.

I tell you all that to tell you this. I liked "The Darjeeling Limited" a darn sight more than "Zissou," but an equal amount less than Mr. Anderson's first three movies. And the reason lies almost entirely with this: The Whitman brothers are three of the most annoying characters you'll ever meet on the big screen.

And, to make it worse, I'm not talking vividly annoying enough that you even feel some connection to them through hatred. They're just kind of three very selfish twits who happen to be rather aimlessly travelling through India. Anderson never bothers to tell us why, and worse, I found that I really didn't care.

My reservoir of goodwill for Mr. Anderson is far from empty, so I'll be back for "Fantastic Mr. Fox" or wherever else he chooses to go next. But "The Darjeeling Limited," much like Sofia Coppola's "Marie Antoinette," is a very pretty voyage that just goes nowhere at all.