If you love somebody -- even if it's incredibly difficult -- when do you give up? According to screenwriter J.H. Wyman, the answer is "Never", and the quest for this answer is the basis for the sometimes invigorating, but more often disappointing The Mexican.

The Mexican is really two films, each of them relatively charming on their own. Taken together, though, they form a mish-mash of plot lines that get cumbersome and rather boring. While the stories do eventually dovetail, by then, it's too late because we've been batted around too much to care. It's unfortunate too because there's some lovely craftsmanship going on here from the lyrical direction of Gore Verbinski to the witty, energetic dialogue of Wyman and the fine performances.

At the center of this romantic drama are Brad Pitt and Julia Roberts as Jerry Welbach and Samantha Barzel. These two actors have enough star power between them to light up an entire city and their charisma is in fine form here. Luckily, too, Pitt and Roberts know each other personally and this natural affinity for one another fills in a lot of the film's emotional blanks. The real problem is that the hero and heroine are hardly ever on screen together. In toto, they probably have ten scenes together in which they have to set up, develop and pay off their relationship. It's a tough road to hoe for any two actors, but it's especially difficult here because so much else is going on in this story.

It all starts with a traffic accident, a fact that director Verbinski humorously echoes again and again throughout the film. In back story, we learn that Jerry has hit the car of mobster Margolese (a star cameo), who ended up in prison because the cops found a body in his trunk. To pay off the debt, Jerry becomes a rather goofy gopher for the mob boss, despite the fact that he's promised Sam that his days as a lackey are soon over. When Jerry agrees to one final job -- recovering a priceless gun in Mexico -- Sam hightails it to Vegas to start her own life. On the way, she's kidnapped by sensitive thug Leroy (James Gandolfini), who holds her as ransom to ensure Jerry's coming through.

Despite the film's linear nature, it is split into the two very separate story lines: Jerry and the pistol in Mexico, Sam and Leroy in Vegas. As Jerry scrambles for his life amidst the local banditos, Sam and Leroy bemoan their lovelorn lives. The linchpin of it all is The Mexican, an exquisitely crafted pistol that is said to be cursed because of unrequited love. A la Rashamon, various characters tell their version of the story in clever little 19th century flashback sequences. And through The Mexican, especially the reason Margolese wants it, we are supposed to recognize the true meaning of love. That this theme is skipped over rather perfunctorily is one of the film's greatest flaws.

Despite the problems, it's clear that enormous forethought that went into the movie. The direction is energetic and original. The script, despite its story problems, is packed with dynamite dialogue, which the actors zip off with deliberate aplomb. The washed-out browns and more somber tone of the Mexican story line contrast beautifully with the vivid hues and more hyper emotional vibe of Las Vegas. As a package, this film should work, but it doesn't. After a little more than an hour, it gets immensely dull and no actor's presence or artistic flourish is enough to save it. It tries to be too many things -- a fable, a romance, a road movie, an action film -- and ends up being none of them. Like the adage of too many cooks in the kitchen, The Mexican is living proof that too many stories spoil the film.