An animated children’s movie that’s mostly about death is certainly an oddity, but what else would one expect of Guillermo del Toro, the purveyor of the macabre? A visual feast that will appeal primarily to those familiar with Mexican culture and folklore, “The Book of Life” is a weird assemblage of elements that never cohere onto a convincing whole, but are entrancing from moment to moment.

Del Toro is only a producer on Jorge R. Gutierrez’s film (which he directed and co-wrote with Doug Langdale), but his spirit permeates the picture, which tells a story connected with the Day of the Dead and the mythology associated with it. Apparently realizing that not all audiences will be familiar with them, Gutierrez situates the tale within a framing device in which a museum guide (voiced by Christina Applegate with an overly didactic air) explains things to a group of initially bored but gradually fascinated schoolchildren, who occasionally reappear to interject humorous reactions. She also exhibits a box of wooden dolls representing characters in the tale, which serves to explain the unusual marionette-like shape in which they’ll appear throughout.

The story begins with a childhood romantic trio in which rambunctious boys Manolo and Joaquin vie for the affection of pretty Maria. Observing the kids, compassionate goddess La Muerte (Kate del Castillo), who presides over the joyous Realm of the Remembered Spirits, and her cagey husband Xibalba (Ron Perlman), who lords it over the morose one of the Forgotten, choose different sides, with La Muerte favoring the more sensitive Manolo and her spouse the more militant Joaquin. They finally bet on which of the two Maria will marry, the stakes being their kingdoms, which they’ll switch if Joaquin wins the girl’s hand. Shortly afterward, Maria goes off to study in Spain.

Cut to years later, just before the older Maria (Zoe Saldana) is to return. Joaquin (Channing Tatum), who’s armed himself secretly with the medal of eternal life, is following in his father’s footsteps as the great local hero, on the trail of the monstrous Chakai (Dan Navarro) and his army of banditos. Meanwhile Manolo (Diego Luna) is being prodded by his father to follow in the family line of great bullfighters, though he wants to be a singer-songwriter. Maria prefers Manolo, but her father insists that she wed Joaquin to secure his protection for their town, and to ensure that he win the bet with La Muerte, Xibalba intervenes to convince Manolo that Maria has died, knowing that he’ll choose to follow her to the spirit realm to bring her back. That introduces the picture’s most phantasmagorical episode, in which Manolo visits not only both realms of the deceased—meeting his ancestors in the process—but the abode of the Candle Maker (Ice Cube), who guards the titular Book of Life in the Cave of Souls, as he struggles to return to the real world, and Maria. To do so, however, he’ll have to succeed at a task imposed by Xilbalba involving his family’s renowned bullfighting past; and after he manages to get back, he’ll have to confront Chakai, too.

This is obviously a scenario chock full of incident, some of which will be barely comprehensible to viewers unacquainted with the folkloric elements despite the periodic interruptions from the tour guide, explaining the plot twists to her listeners. The decision to make it more palatable by following some of the standard genre formulas—as in the big, action-packed final confrontation with Chakai—adds to its heft. And the narrative is further embellished with a series of musical numbers, many of them pop tunes but others newly-composed songs by Gustavo Santaolalia and Paul Williams. The result often feels like too much to bear, though thankfully it avoids too many pop-culture jokes, being content mostly with juvenile puns and occasional wry comments from Manolo’s feisty grandma (Grey Griffin).

And yet despite the bulky, ungainly script, the movie is a visually dazzling ride, so colorful and eye-catching that you’re likely to be carried along even as you harbor misgivings about where it’s going. The character design by Gutierrez and Sandra Equihua, in which many of the figures are portrayed in the form of the wooden dolls contained in the museum and others (like the Candle Maker) in less angular shapes, is strange but effective, and overall the images—fabricated by production designer Simon Vladimir Varela and realized by Reel FX Animation Studios—are a sometimes overwhelming riot of pigment and detail, made all the more impressive by the 3D format which, for a change, seems appropriate. The voice work is generally on a high level, too, with a special nod to Luna, who sings Manolo’s musical numbers as well as reciting his dialogue.

“The Book of Life” certainly deserves credit for not being a cookie-cutter animated family movie. At the same time, however, the form it takes may prove entirely too peculiar for many viewers, though Hispanic audiences should find it a tasty treat indeed.