Starring two of the most beautiful people in show business -- Pierce Brosnan and Rene Russo -- the 1999 remake of "The Thomas Crown Affair" has got to be one of my favorite flicks. The movie tracks, the ins and outs of a high-class robbery, and an even higher-class romance never fails to perk me up.

Following Brosnan and Russo in their exquisitely tailored outfits through the Metropolitan Museum of Art, some of the most sophisticated restaurants in New York, and an unnamed tropical island is not nearly as boring as it sounds. But unfortunately, the banter between the two of them -- which accounts for a good portion of the movie -- falls a bit short in that it all sounds like cliche pillow talk and feels flat compared with the rest of the film's up-beat and slick sequences.

Indeed, one of my favorite and best parts of the film happens right at the end when Crown (Brosnan) leads the police through the Met on a fruitless chase to catch him, reducing them to almost Keystone Cops-like behavior. This scene includes almost no dialogue and is therefore successful; I'm not forced to watch the actors reduce themselves to catch-alls for the bad quips the writers couldn't bear to part with. The quick camera and infectious score are both used to their full advantage and help drive the film forward by distracting the viewer with flashy shots and drawing the attention away from what the actors are saying.

Brosnan, of 007 fame, plays the part of a bored multimillionaire as if he was born for no other reason. The arrogance and elitist attitude that seeps into every gesture and expression are effortlessly pulled off; you really can't imagine Brosnan as anything other than a rich jerk with a mean sense of humor and nothing better to do than play around with beautiful women and priceless art.

And Rene Russo, who remains one of the most glamorous and striking women of the screen, obviously took the part because of the elegant wardrobe her character gets to wear. Her clothes in the film are all gorgeous, from the long suede skirt and cowboy boots to the perfectly translucent black evening gown, and she's got the chutzpah to match each and every ensemble. Though I hate that her character only progresses from sardonic and annoyingly jaded femme to a woman who can finally allow herself to fall in love with an impossibly rich, handsome and doting businessman, Russo does an admirable job with the pathetic drivel that she's given.

In a surprising departure from his usual role as token slime-ball nay-sayer, Denis Leary attempts -- though in vain -- to be the well meaning, ever watchful, sad puppy kind of police detective. This role is a new one for Leary who is known for roles in movies like "The Ref" and "Wag the Dog" where he's anything but well meaning and, unfortunately for Thomas Crown, much better because he could pull off the "jerk" role so effortlessly. In trying to play the part of the non-judgmental cop who can't help but want what's best for Russo's character, Leary is out of his element and seems to flounder when his character is forced to be moral and nice.

Unfortunately for all the actors, the script -- courtesy of Leslie
Dixon and Kurt Wimmer -- is so contrived that there really isn't much the actors can do to rise above it and make their parts tolerable.

Despite the fact that the woman (Russo) is the only one in the movie who is consistently over-emotional and the butt of the jokes (don't get me started), the film makes no attempt at social comment, save for the idea that rich people have more fun because they can afford to and aren't actually held accountable for their actions. Yeah, the message is dumb, I know. Can we say, guilty pleasure?

I think one of the best parts of the movie is the perfect music, courtesy of Bill Conti; it's smart and sexy in the same way that the clothes provide that extra touch of class that the artwork alone apparently could not provide. In this way, the setting of the film is more memorable than the actual content. There are sequences where the music and the artwork in the Met by themselves would have made for good viewing material; it feels like the characters are secondary and should therefore be considered peripheral to the clothes, locations and soundtrack. And considering what little the characters reveal in the way of human emotion and probability, the film is really only a success when they're lounging around their impossibly high-class apartments, wearing fabulous clothes, and not talking.

Still, watching Brosnan and Russo sashay their way across the screen in clothes no real person could wear must be good enough because The Thomas Crown Affair has yet to fall flat.

Railey Jane Savage is a student at Wells College in New York.