9 opens with a doll, dangling in a Christ-like position on a cluttered desk in an office. The audience hears a loud thud as an old man briefly falls to the ground, and mysteriously, the doll blinks to life.

The creature looks around the room, sees a creaking window, and opens it to a decimated world full of dark clouds and broken buildings. With the number 9 inked on his back, the doll ventures out to discover the destruction that stands before him, and the postapocalyptic venture begins.

This all seems like a totally sweet story, right? Well, that’s what I thought too — but then the opening sequence was over.

9’s creators had an opportunity to create a groundbreaking movie full of Armageddon goodies. But sadly, the filmmakers’ desire for excitement and originality clouded their overall vision, and the project fell apart. This premise behind this film screamed “I’m new and exciting and different,” but then forgot to deliver. With dolls touting numbers as their names, they set forth throughout the world of beast-machines and junkyards, fighting death with weapons and each other with words.

Instead of providing the audience with a thought-provoking plot, writers Pamela Pettler and Shane Acker decided to fill the movie with cliché characters. One of the numbered dolls is afraid of following what he believes, another is crazy, and to make matters worse, there’s stubborn leader who refuses to change his ways. Consequently, the characters had no soul and no connection to the audience. They wanted to, they really did, and the voice actors should not be blamed — the fault lies instead in the generic dialogue that made dramatic moments sometimes comical, but always insulting to the audience’s intelligence.

However, in 9’s defense, it’s gorgeous. The animation and visual aspects of the film are bold, and the concept of a postapocalyptic world filled with dolls and machines is a pretty good setting for some sweet action. Unlike the in-your-face blockbuster direction of peers such as Michael Bay (Transformers), director Acker takes his time to create a spectacle, balancing details — like striking a match or repairing a doll wound — with riveting action sequences to provide an eloquent experience, rather than assaulting the senses.

But in spite of Acker’s visual care, it’s blatantly obvious the writers threw together the script as quickly as possible. Similar to the predictable character development, the plot line was also flawed. As the story developed, it followed the typical formula of classic heroism — the group has success, followed by struggle, followed by triumph, then another fall, and so on.

9’s trailers promised an adventure, but lied. On the surface, it’s easy to see why Tim Burton stamped his name all over this picture, but I wonder why he didn’t run after reading the script. With all the buildup, this film had potential to not only be one of the year’s best, but also be put on the same pedestal as classic animated films like The Nightmare Before Christmas. But, instead of meeting these (and admittedly, quite lofty) expectations, 9 falls short.

The lesson? Focusing only on eye candy muddies up the rest.