The Man from U.N.C.L.E is that rare Guy Ritchie movie: it’s badly cast, poorly written and low on his trademark vim, wit and fleet-footedness.

The parody-laden tribute to the popular 1960s American television series of the same name kicks off on an immense high: the credits roll over Roberta Flack’s silken rendition of the American standard Compared to What, holding out the promise of a retro chic exploration of a world bursting with handsome secret agents, bug-eyed villains, kittenish women and exotic locations – neither James Bond nor Austin Powers, but somewhere in between.

The plot involves American and Russian spies who have reached a détente during the Cold War to track down a bunch of nefarious Nazis with dreams of world domination. Since the 116-minute movie is actually an extended origins story of the events that led to the formation of UNCLE, or United Network Command for Law and Enforcement, there is an opportunity to fix matters in the sequel, if it happens.

Henry Cavill, looking every inch an Italian bespoke clothing label model who has wandered into the movies by accident, plays the evocatively named Napoleon Solo, an American operative who is forced to team up with KGB counterpart Illya Kuryakin (Armie Hammer) to stop a German scientist from building a nuclear device for a pair of well-shod Fascist Italian aristocrats (Luca Calvani and Elizabeth Debicki). The barrel-chested uncles have a baby-faced aunty as their secret weapon: Gaby Teller (Alicia Vikander), the scientist’s daughter.

Gaby and Illya pretend to be betrothed in order to infiltrate the enemy camp, which proves to be childishly simple since we are in the pre-surveillance ’60s, where arch-villains were presumably more trusting about whom they let into their lairs. There is even less tension between the American and the Russian. Cavill, best known for his earnest version of Superman in Zack Snyder’s reboot, wears his threads well but struggles to find the right pitch for his insouciant and allegedly brilliant spy. Hammer has little trouble stealing the show from Cavill – for one thing, he does deadpan better – while Cavill faces further competition from a wrinkly but still charming Hugh Grant, playing a British operative.

The movie sparks to life in its breathlessly edited but nevertheless anachronistic action sequences, which belong in the present day rather than in a period movie. The Man from U.N.C.L.E has style to spare, especially when Ritchie matches the richly textured images with perfectly selected music tracks, but substance proves to be more elusive than the nuclear whatsit.