MEN In Black, the irreverent sci-fi thriller with lines as smart and sharp as the suits, had a chasm where the plot should have been.

Five years and one sequel later and that Men In Black hole has still not been fixed by director Barry Sonnenfeld, in the tradition of work-shy workmen in Fifties' British movies.

Instead, America's version of a Smith and Jones double act, Will and Tommy Lee, blithely repeat their alien butt-kicking slick schtick, without the spontaneity or abrasive energy of 1997 but still with coolness to spare as they save the world from intergalactic disaster with the minimum of sweat and maximum-strength dark glasses.

Last time, the trick was to make it look effortless, so you still fretted whether aliens would rule the joint only for tongue-in-cheek Smith and Jones to do their nonchalant rescue act in the nick of time. Now, you know what to expect, and when, and you wish for more effort, for more confrontation, for friction as well as science fiction.

In the tradition of odd-couple comedy duos, Laurel and Hardy, Abbott and Costello, Bradford City and Benito Carbone, the story is built around the partnership and not vice versa. So, in MIB II Smith's Jay, the dude with smooth attitude, is still faithfully serving the alien-hunting Men In Black forces but special agent Kay (the no-nonsense Jones) is seeing out his working days in long socks and short trousers in the US postal service, having had his memory wiped out in the finale to MIB.

Jay is not OK without Kay, especially now he has discovered a plot by one Serleena (Lara Flynn Boyle) a chameleon alien temptress with long tentacles and a temper as short as her clothing.

This Kylothian monster, disguised most obligingly as an Ann Summers model, plans to take control of the MIB building in New York City en route to world domination. To do so, she and her two-headed henchman (Johnny Knoxville) need the Light of Zartha, and only Kay knows where to find it. Cue comeback.

Not much meat there, then, so Sonnenfeld has to flesh out his slight movie with further distractions: typically assured special effects; eye candy for Smith in the shape of Rosario Dawson's pizza parlour maid; alien creations of all shapes and sizes, and Michael Jackson too as one of the Men In Black (or should that now be Men In White).

Jones is strangely absent from the early scenes, but that allows a talking, singing dog, Frank the Pug, to steal his thunder as Smith's new partner with the best wisecracks, topped off by a rendition of Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive.

No doubt, in play-safe Hollywood, the MIB series will survive too but cynicism has replaced irony all too quickly, and laziness stretches like a yawn over MIB II. Next time, give the Men In Black a substantial plot with a surprise or two or they will fade into the Men In Grey.

Updated: 09:34 Friday, August 02, 2002