Without reference to how serious a work Arthur Golden’s best-seller “Memoirs of a Geisha” might be on the printed page, in this screen adaptation by writer Robin Swicord and director Rob Marshall it comes across as a weird combination of Charles Dickens and Harlequin Romance, given a falsely exotic air by an overlay of kimonos and cherry blossoms. When you strip away its foreign ambiance, it’s basically an old-fashioned woman’s picture of the kind Hollywood studios churned out in profusion during the thirties and forties; one can imagine an American transplant having starred Bette Davis, Joan Crawford and Mary Astor. But in the hands of Marshall, who jettisons the energetic, imaginative style he used to breathe life into his film of “Chicago” in favor of a much more stately–or more properly, ponderous–approach, the whole thing becomes almost mummified. The funereal pace and emotional restraint are undoubtedly designed to reflect the traditional reticence and solemnity of Japanese culture, but over the course of nearly two-and-a-half hours it makes for fairly pallid going, despite the colorful costumes and striking settings.

The heroine of the piece, who narrates the story in retrospect, is Sayuri, nee Chiyo (Suzuka Ohgo), a nine-year old peasant girl who’s sold, along with her slightly older sister, to a recruiter of prospects for okiyas–geisha houses–by their father as their mother lies dying. The girls are separated, with Chiyo taken on in the house run by the imperious, cigarette-smoking Mother (Kaori Momoi), where she quickly becomes fast friends with another novice, Pumpkin (Zoe Weizenbaum). Though she’s treated well by mother’s second-in-command, the kindly Auntie (Tsai Chin), she’s abused whenever possible by the gorgeous but haughty Hatsumomo (Gong Li), the legendary geisha of the establishment, and finds true kindness only in an accidental meeting with a passing businessman called The Chairman (Ken Watanabe), who becomes forever after her romantic ideal. Shortly after that incident, Chiyo is taken on for instruction by another geisha, Mameha (Michelle Yeoh), who molds her into Sayuri (Ziyi Zhang), whose coming out attracts attention–from such figures as The Chairman’s disfigured partner Nobu (Koji Yakusho) and Mameha’s benefactor The General (Kenneth Tsang)–that puts even Hatsumomo in the shade. Difficulties naturally arise, not only in the form of slurs against Sayuri’s character but World War II, and the heroine’s post-war reconnection with Nobu and Pumpkin (now played by Youki Kudoh) to shmooze the American occupiers doesn’t turn out quite as expected, but rest assured the tale manages a happy ending for its beleaguered heroine. (It must be admitted, though, that the way it contrives to do so struck at least this viewer as more creepy than sweet.)

As can be seen from all this, “Memoirs of a Geisha” aims for the sweep of an epic, spanning an important transitional era in recent Japanese history (even if some rather significant episodes–like World War II–happen pretty much off-screen). But it’s less an Oriental “Gone With the Wind” than the sort of stuff about a woman working her way to success and love despite heavy odds that one might have found, with a New York setting, in a Fannie Hurst weepie from the thirties or forties. To be sure, it introduces us to the unfamiliar world of the okiya, pointedly informing us, for example, that the geisha is not to be thought a prostitute but a highly trained companion. But then the heroines of Hollywood women’s pictures invariably turned out to be innocent too, however “scarlet” they might have appeared to others. The setting does, though, allow for a handsome production design by John Myhre and art direction supervised by Tomas Voth, and impressive sets and costumes (all nicely photographed by Dion Beebe); John Williams’ score similarly uses far eastern instrumentation and tones.

As to the cast, there’s some controversy in the fact that the trio of lead actresses are Chinese rather than Japanese (the concern is understandable, given the treatment China suffered at the hands of the Japanese military in the war), but to western eyes they’re an imposing group. Apart from some dances, Zhang is here far more reserved and inexpressive than in some previous roles, but she’s exceptionally beautiful, and Yeoh brings a touching undercurrent to her mentor. Li, by contrast, radiates simmering anger and contempt as the imperious Hatsumomo, and Kudoh vibrance as the older Pumpkin, and in the first act Ohgo makes a wonderfully expressive Chiyo. The men are comparatively minor characters, but Yakusho brings vigor to Nobu and Watanabe quiet authority to The Chairman, while Tagawa is smoothly malevolent as The Baron. Together they make a fine group, even though the articulation of the English dialogue isn’t always ideally clear.

But for all the surface loveliness and thespian talent on display, “Memoirs of a Geisha” comes across as mostly inert and emotionally tepid. It’s like a meal that’s attractively displayed on the plate but proves bland to the taste and not terribly filling.