Quick, think of your favorite Disney animated movie. Unless you said "Song of the South," yes, The Mouse House is probably making a live-action version of it as we speak.

We’ve already gotten "Cinderella" and "The Jungle Book" (plus that weird "Maleficent" spin-off) while the future holds a new "Aladdin," "Mulan," "Dumbo," "Lion King," Christopher Robin-focused adventure and another Peter Pan remake. Because that worked out so swell for "Pan." At their best – the swoon-worthy "Cinderella" – they remind the audience why the original charmed back then. At their worst … "Alice in Wonderland."

"Beauty and the Beast," the latest meal on Disney’s self-cannibalization tour, falls somewhere in the middle: pleasant and pretty but also pretty pointless. After all, if you’re going to revisit a tale as old as time, something new would be appreciated – and the only notable new thing coming from this retelling is a shiny new swimming pool of gold coins for Disney execs to Scrooge McDuck into.

The timeless ode to Stockholm syndrome finding the beauty within oneself and others is pretty much the same as Disney left it in 1991. After her inventor father (Kevin Kline) is taken prisoner by a furious castle-bound beast (Dan Stevens, "Downton Abbey"), the beautiful and ambitious Belle (Emma Watson, jumping from one iconic bookworm role to another) offers to take his place – a boon for the man-turned-buffalo monster, cursed long ago by an enchantress until he can love someone and be loved in return. His servants got cursed as well, turned into talking trinkets and décor, because the enchantress sometimes gets a little carried a way (at least the prince isn’t 11 years old when he’s cursed this time).

Anyways, thanks to Belle’s big heart and the Beast’s big library, the two hit it off, much to the chagrin of Belle’s meathead suitor Gaston, played by Luke Evans ("Fast & Furious 6").

Since the casting first came out for this remake, I’ve preached that Evans and Stevens were woefully miscast, and that their roles needed to be flipped. And now that the movie’s actually out, it’s time for me to nosh on some crow like it’s that grey stuff from "Be Our Guest."

As it turns out, Evans is an actual revelation. Typically tied down as a stern-faced tough guy, the actor has a blast here playing the devious dunderhead inversion of that role, swaggering across the screen – especially in song – with such delightful braggadocio that you almost wouldn’t mind if Belle chose him (minus the whole "condescending sexist who descends into murderous psychosis" thing). In a film filled with the expected, Evans feels like a fresh discovery, while at the same time helping provide some of the original’s cartoonish energy.

While Evans may stand out, the rest of the loaded cast list holds its own as well. Even buried under a mound of CG and voice modulation, Stevens’ personality and charm manages to find its way through – especially through his fun smirk and the occasional unexpected lilt in his line deliveries. Gad scores a lot of laughs as Le Fou, Gaston’s comedic relief and underutilized conscience (whose controversial gayness is as significant as the lesbian couple you already forgot you didn’t notice in "Finding Dory"). Kline brings out some lovely human warmth to all of his scenes, as does Emma Thompson in her mostly vocal work as Mrs. Potts. The rest of the cursed castle crew is exceptional as well, from the charmingly crotchety Cogsworth played by Ian McKellen (as you’d expect) to the flamboyantly French Lumiere voiced by Ewan McGregor (as you wouldn’t expect).

The closest thing to a weak link in the cast is unfortunately Watson – but at least only when she’s singing.

With the non-musical material, she’s more than up to the task, selling the character’s complicated evolution from hostage to heartfelt companion with chemistry, feisty strength and winsome sweetness. When it comes time for Belle to belt out some big numbers, however, her sturdy character becomes limp – not bad, just weak. When she takes to a hilltop early on to erupt about wanting more, looking over her matte painting town, her voice doesn’t soar the way the moment demands. Evans’ and Gad’s singing voices convey character; Watson’s singing voice conveys that she can technically hit the notes.

It doesn’t help that director Bill Condon ("Dreamgirls" and the last two "Twilight" films) and the screenplay – from Stephen Chbosky and Evan Spiliotopoulos – don’t really build to the scene, instead hitting the hilltop seemingly out of obligation to the original rather than a moment of earned emotional release.

That’s not just a one-time problem. Most of the time, "Beauty and the Beast" is just recreating the original animated movie, often almost shot-for-shot. The result is less like a new vision of the story needing to be told and brought to the screen, and more like a movie playing dress-up, giving the audience more of exactly what they saw and liked before – just with actual people, sets and a whole new third dimension now. As though the still very good 1991 edition doesn’t still very much exist.

What little new Condon and company do bring to this retelling feels like unnecessary clutter. Ever wonder what happened to Belle’s unmentioned mom in the original movie? No? Well, too bad, because we’re going to plague-ravaged Paris to find out – via an enchanted atlas, of course.

The original’s tight and beautiful stained glass opening? Now replaced with a dance number featuring everyone decked out in the latest ridiculous fashions from the "Hunger Games" Capitol (and when I say everyone, I mean Stevens, Stanley Tucci and Audra McDonald, because clearly the other actors weren’t available that day for the shoot despite the scene introducing their characters). Yes, this is all technically new, but it adds little to the story other than padding a less-than-90-minute film to over two hours. 

The clutter on the page continues on screen too. "Beauty and the Beast" was always going to be a bigger CG chore than something like "Cinderella," but Condon often pushes too hard on the photo-realistic theatrics. Lumiere’s face is eerily indecipherable through his overly done design, while Plumette the feather duster comes in some perplexing, alienating bird form. And the less said about McDonald’s wardrobe and Tucci’s harpsichord, the better. Overall, let’s just say the Beast’s castle rests somewhere in the Uncanny Valley of France.

Meanwhile, "Be Our Guest" is blown even bigger into a gaudy and bombastic Vegas-esque showtune and even the pair’s beautiful climactic dance can’t be complete without some CG gold dusting and wall instruments. Some of this is the photo-realism inherently looking too busy (especially compared to the clean lines and colors of animation). Some of this is also a creative team not knowing when to say no.

There’s a part when McDonald’s wardrobe bombards Belle with animated cloth and fabric, decorating her into a human Christmas tree of powdered wigs and gaudiness. That’s pretty much "Beauty and the Beast": the magic and beating heart still there, just buried a little extra under needlessness, redundancy and excess.

After all, Watson and Stevens sell the sweet romance – and the viewer needs to buy in or else it’s a creepy, or worse yet #problematic, story about a violent guy kidnapping a woman until she loves him – while Evans and Gad provide the cartoonish color. Condon has a deft hand when it comes to the emotions – and occasionally with some of the rich, lavish visuals and production value, even considering the CG overload pulling him one way and loyalty to the original film tugging the other.

"Beauty and the Beast" technically works, but of course it does: It's the original movie again – just with more clutter there that wasn’t there before.