Is the presence of Robin Williams the kiss of comedy death or just noisy evidence of it? That mystery won't be solved by people who sit through Robots, the excruciating new cartoon from the people who brought us the nonexcruciating Ice Age. But amidst the flat jokes, forgettable characters, and nearly nonexistent plot, they will have plenty of time to think about it.

More wrapping than package, this computer-animated feature film follows the exploits of one Rodney Copperbottom (voiced by Ewan McGregor), a tinker-minded child-like the one in Katsuhiro Otomo's Steamboy-but with a more riveting personality. The provincial lad dreams of going to Robot City and inventing things for Mr. Big Weld (Mel Brooks), who supplies parts for everything that moves. Unfortunately, the big lug has retired, and for no particular reason he has left his company in the hands of a venal creep called Phineas T. Ratchet (Greg Kinnear) and his hideous mother (Jim Broadbent, and you read that right). The new man wants to phase out replacement parts entirely, forcing most older 'bots onto the scrapheap. There's your conflict, as they say.

The story is predictable, and yet it's utterly without context. That is, although the citizens of this machines-only world are aping humans in some way, it remains unclear what these buckets of bolts are saying about us. These creations have no religion or government but they do have at least one corporation, and it's at least as sociopathic as the ones we know. What lesson are we supposed to learn from the violent revolution led by Rodney and his pals? Anyway, where does their money come from, what are the means of production, and why would robots need to assemble do-it-yourself baby kits (aside from the fact that they obviously don't do it themselves)?

The hero's coterie includes a svelte love interest (Halle Berry), some undeveloped background characters, and a spunky girl (Amanda Bynes) and her motormouthed brother, Fender (Robin Williams). Much of the humour is along the lines of Fender, in a rare happy mood, pulling a Gene Kelly by "Singin' in the Oil". I'll wait while you stop laughing.

Pop-culture references abound, although the wee ones are far more likely to get the Britney Spears reference than the many parallels with Fritz Lang's Metropolis, by way of Rube Goldberg. Kids today, eh?

The visuals, of course, are impressive, with children's-book designer William Joyce largely responsible for the enticing future-retro look, replete with deco touches and burnished '50s pastels. There are also plenty of toss-off lines (generally funnier than the main jokes) from the likes of Stanley Tucci, Paul Giamatti, Dan Hedaya, Dianne Wiest, and Conan O'Brien.

The script, credited to sitcom veterans Lowell Ganz and Babaloo Mandel and two others, features prominently a large-bottomed female robot (voiced by Jennifer Coolidge) and her propensity for flatulence. I don't know why robots would fart, but apparently they can do much that we don't expect. And most of it is tedious.