As a live-action cartoon, "Dick Tracy" is clearly reaching for "Batman" heights, and there are aspects of this movie that resemble that film. But it actually reminded me more of "Popeye," Robin Williams' first starring film, though it is certainly less cluttered.

That isn't meant as criticism. I realize "Popeye" does not have the best reputation as a film, but like "Popeye," "Dick Tracy" is presented in very broad strokes, garish colors, has dozens of characters in heavy makeup to faithfully resemble the original comic-strip persona and is loaded with campy, light, off-kilter humor.

"Dick Tracy" is most enjoyable, but it's a movie whose tone takes a little getting used to, and there are places where the audience may be so busy playing "spot the star," for the many familiar actors who make brief cameo appearances under thick masks, that it distracts from the film's strengths (much in the manner of the '60s mystery "The List of Adrian Messenger," which used a similar device).

Warren Beatty makes a fine Tracy, playing him as a low-key, old-fashioned all-American hero who believes in obeying the law, even when the law is a bit wrong-headed. That may seem an anachronism to moviegoers weaned on the "Dirty Harry" ethics of modern cop flicks, but it's also quite refreshing.

Like Michael Keaton in "Batman," Beatty plays it cool, allowing the many goofball characters around him — chiefly villains — to be bizarre and over-the-top. That's the only way his character could successfully be played and Beatty makes all the right moves.

Tracy is the top-notch homicide detective for a generic 'berg that looks like both Manhattan and a brighter, lighter version of "Batman's" Gotham City, with everything painted in bold primary colors.

Unlike "Batman," however, the time-frame here is more clearly defined — this is definitely '30s America, comic-strip-style. (Like Chester Gould's original strip, there are no product placements; all labels are generic — cigarette packages say "cigarettes," the newspaper says "Daily Paper," the police station says "Police Station," etc.)

Tracy is in love with Tess True-heart (Glenne Headly), but like every all-American hero of days gone by, he has trouble expressing himself (an amusing reverse-parody by Beatty, playing off his real-life image). Tracy is better with a gun in his hand chasing a gangster down the street than with hearts and flowers.