I’m not a fan of the James Bond movies. To me, the 007 franchise was played out by the time Sean Connery began donning that awful terry-cloth robe in “Goldfinger.”

Most reviewers, however, have trodded pretty lightly on the series. Baby boomers, for whom Bond filled an emotional need during adolescence (and who also happen to dominate the critical establishment), can’t seem to admit just how repetitive and ridiculous the series has become.

The newest installment, “Die Another Day,” manages to be less fun than any Bond picture I can remember, even while doing everything it can to evoke the plot threads and set pieces of its predecessors.

This time out, agent 007 (Pierce Brosnan) is pitted against an eminently forgettable foe named Colonel Moon (Will Yun Lee), a rogue North Korean warlord of sorts whose plan to control the world is facilitated by – big surprise – a doomsday machine that spits a laser at Earth from its satellite orbit.

I know we’re supposed to relax and accept this premise, no matter how idiotic it may seem. The silly narrative conventions of Bond movies rise above criticism, film buffs argue, because they’ve become so entrenched in popular culture. But since those conventions have been invented for the sole purpose of bringing about the next automobile stunt, shoot-out or sex scene – unlike in film noir, where the cliches are richer and more emotionally satisfying – it’s hard to give them a pass just on general principles.

Every time 007 is compelled to action in “Die Another Day,” the mechanized nature of the story begins to grate. For what seems like an eternity, we follow the protagonist as he tails Moon all over the not-so-free world – from a dreary concentration camp in North Korea to the sun-dappled streets of Havana to the villain’s arctic hideout, an Evil Fortress so stupid-looking one is surprised the filmmakers behind “Austin Powers” didn’t imagine it first.

At odd moments between fights and chases, the movie introduces little bits of information – a new gene therapy treatment that has disguised Moon’s identity, for example – we assume will be crucial to the outcome of the film, but serve to do little aside from distracting attention from the fuzzy, underwritten main story.

Maybe the narrative was more coherent in earlier drafts of the screenplay, but the relentless and protracted action sequences crowd out your ability to view the picture as a continuous story. I’m still unsure about why “Die Another Day” required the presence of a second, lesser villain named Zao (Rick Yune) – a disfigured brute allied with Moon who drifts in and out of the picture without much purpose.

Not that the major characters are any more interesting: In the sexist tradition of the series, the women in the film – a by-the-books British spy (Rosamund Pike) who has no use for Bond’s notorious charm, and a sunny NSA agent (Halle Berry) who does – are used as plot devices, fouling up Bond’s mission at every turn, but rarely if ever contributing for the good.

Berry, in particular, is an unfortunate choice in the role of an “elite” American secret agent. Trying to ram her way out of an enclosed space late in the film, she looks about as tough as a Miss America contestant.

As with so many Bond pictures before it, “Die Another Day” is a mess of a movie, hastily going through the motions with the arrogance of a film that knows it doesn’t have to be any good to be profitable. The only thing that holds up is 007 himself. As played by Brosnan, the character is full of delightful quirks and anti-hero qualities: He’s surly, secretive, unscrupulous and self-centered, just the way we want him to be.

I like James Bond, I really do. If only I didn’t have to sit through a Bond movie every couple of years just to see him, I’d probably like him a lot more.

Jordan Gentile is a senior in journalism. He can be reached at [email protected].