Worthy productions such as "Gladiator" and HBO's "Rome" put the class back into classical antiquity after a spate of 1950s and '60s B movies tarnished the glory of ancient Rome and Greece.

Now comes "The Last Legion," a caesar salad of derivative movie ingredients served with plenty of cheese. It's hard to tell whether scenes reminiscent of "Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid," "Apocalypse Now" and "Henry V" are inside jokes or are just the result of a lack of imagination. But they're just one of many nutty aspects of this exercise in absurdity.

The story begins in A.D. 460 and the barbarians quickly move from the gates of Rome into the palaces. The boy emperor Romulus Augustus has just been crowned only to be overthrown by chief Goth Odoacer. Played by Thomas Sangster, the kid's exiled to a beautiful island with his teacher Ambrosinus. Played by Ben Kingsley, Ambrosinus is kind of a Yoda without the big ears and green skin. He's got good Kung Fu moves and he makes weird things happen when not making philosophical pronouncements. Word for word, this loony script probably has more non sequiturs passing for wisdom than any on record.

Enter Aurelius, played by Colin Firth. He's a Legion commander leading his stereotypical band of jolly warriors to the rescue. Joining up is an exotic woman warrior played by the ravishing Aishwarya Rai, a star of Indian cinema. She can outfight 20 men without ruining her make-up. Before you can say Excalibur, a mystical sword joins the plot, along with a whole new horde of bad guys and a lost legion deep in the wilds of Britannia.

There's plenty of sword play but it looks outdated compared to the razzle-dazzle of a "300." In fact there's a retro quality to the whole production despite the locations and big battle scenes. The requisite romance occurs and there's even some attempts at smarty-pants humor that recall those B movies of yore.

Firth, Kingsley and company put in an honest day's work but they can only do so much. That's because director Doug Lefler rules with such a heavy hand that what should be an old-timey, tongue-in-cheek hoot bends under the weight of pretension and self-importance.