Easily the most violent film of 2007, "The Jane Austen Book Club" blasts its way onto the screen with a bloody Mexican standoff in a burning crack den that before long gives way to some awesomely smutty hardcore - okay; sorry. I can't giggle and type at the same time.

Approximately no one should be surprised by the revelation that "The Jane Austen Book Club" is yet another romantic comedy that taps the still-rich Austen vein to tell the interwoven stories of a group of people who meet to discuss the works of the illustrious writer and find guidance among the pages when their experiences mirror those of Austen's characters. It's probably unintentional that six individuals reading six novels over the course of six months evokes the devil's digits, but as adapted by Robin Swicord from the 2004 bestseller by Karen Joy Fowler, "The Jane Austen Book Club" is everything that's evil about the chick flick. Fortunately, a troupe of underrated B-listers and TV parolees do their damnedest to transcend cliché and ultimately bring the film to somewhat satisfying life.

First-time director Swicord makes the rookie mistake of opening with an uninspired visual tableau documenting the chaos of modern life (insidious cell phones! scalding coffee! crabby ATMs!) before narrowing her focus to our sextet. Her jumbo jewelry and choppy haircut telegraphing movie eccentricity, the six-times-wed Bernadette (Kathy Baker, "All The King's Men") initially concocts the book club as a way to help pal Sylvia (Amy Brenneman, "Judging Amy") cope with the end of her 25-year marriage. That this also allows Bernadette to meddle in the relationship woes of an uptight stranger named Prudie (Emily Blunt, "The Devil Wears Prada") is just the cherry on the sundae.

The other participants in these literary powwows are Sylvia's daughter Allegra (Maggie Grace, "Lost") and Sylvia's best friend Jocelyn (Maria Bello, "A History of Violence"), as well as a sweet Silicon Valley geekster that Jocelyn chatted up in hopes he might distract the justifiably depressed Sylvia. As played by Hugh Dancy ("Evening"), Grigg is the outsider and unfamiliar with Austen's oeuvre, though his preference for sci-fi enables him to draw a parallel between Austen and George Lucas that appalls the ladies.

And when they're not reading or meeting, the lives of the members of "The Jane Austen Book Club" unfold, often following the trajectory of an Austen novel. You don't need a degree in English lit to see that the commitment-phobic Jocelyn is channeling "Emma" as she plays matchmaker for a man who is clearly smitten with her instead of her target. The hard-loving Allegra has all the reckless impulsivity of Marianne Dashwood from "Sense and Sensibility," while Sylvia's circumstances take a "Persuasion"-esque turn when her former husband (Jimmy Smits!?!) picks up a copy and then mimics the wooing strategy of Captain Wentworth.

What novelist Fowler did was essentially rip off Austen's plots and then cram them all into one book with a unifying theme: Sneaky, but not yet illegal. Swicord can capably adapt fiction in her own right, but with six meaty plots to juggle, the trite script has more in common with her corny 2005 version of "Memoirs of a Geisha" than it does her stellar rendering of 1994's "Little Women." Some details, like Allegra's sexual preference and Jocelyn's affinity for her dogs, are treated with syrupy condescension, and Swicord's directing inexperience shows in her safe structure and utter dependence on the montage. And why, in nearly every gynocentric movie, does the straightening of curly tresses symbolize sanity regained?

"The Jane Austen Book Club" may not deserve its gifted cast, with Brenneman and Bello the standouts as gorgeous, lived-in women of a certain age with real fears and flaws who handle their baggage very differently. Blunt probably has the showiest role, her initially buttoned-down Prudie running the gauntlet of emotions as she tries to decide whether her marriage is worth saving. (Luscious Kevin Zeger from "Transamerica" represents her alternative.) It's not surprising in a film like this that the men are mostly plot devices, but Dancy is a charmer, his long-lashed sensitivity giving way to backbone at the designated hour.

At its heart, "The Jane Austen Book Club" seems to point out how we try to find ourselves in art during times when we are a bit lost. Most experiences are universal, and it's comforting to read how even a storybound someone may have handled a problem. Austen's perfect for this because the bad people (a/k/a them) get their comeuppance, while the good ones (that would be us) always walk away happy.