Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen's 1813 comedy of manners, has been reworked so many times in so many different contexts it should be way boring by now.

We all know smug Mr. Darcy and outspoken Lizzie will somehow navigate the ruled and rigid social network to get over her pride and his prejudice (or is it that other way around?) and just get it on already.

So why, oh why, has the story stayed so appealing to generation after generation of romantic comedy-a-holics?

Well, because Pride and Prejudice is really, really good. It's fun, it's funny, it's honest, and most importantly, it makes any girl (or boy) swoon.

So, taking the reins from Helen Fielding and BBC and that upcoming version starring Keira Knightley, Gurinder Chadha has created yet another Pride and Prejudice adaptation -- this time with a vibrant Bollywood spirit.

Chadha's Bride & Prejudice is an enjoyable, multiculti song, dance and love-fest from the director and writer of 2002's breakout Britflick Bend It Like Beckham.

Like Beckham, Bride & Prejudice has a marriage-hungry mom, a hunky love interest, some spirited chicks who aren't down with the status quo, and lots of stuff challenging racism, sexism, classism, imperialism and consumerism.

The Bennets of rural England transform into the Bakshis of "Hicksville, India," as one character calls their town. Lizzie becomes Lalita, that second eldest daughter who vows to marry for love, and Mr. Darcy stays Mr. Darcy, this time an American hotel mogul named Will who's visiting India for a friend's friend's wedding.

As Lalita, Aishwarya Rai is luminous. She's confident, clever, tastefully sexy and painkillingly gorgeous.

In India, Ash (as the former Miss World is called) is already Bollywood royalty; if this, her first totally English-language role, is any indication, it's only a matter of time before Ash becomes the next Hollywood "It" Girl.

And Martin Henderson (best known for The Ring) is up to the challenge of romancing such an accomplished, glamorous heroine -- his scowling and smoldering definitely meets the Colin Firth standard of Darcy-ness. Oh la la.

The Pride and Prejudice story, naturally, transcends its time and place beautifully: pride stays pride, prejudice stays prejudice and courtship stays courtship.

But Chadha's vision of Austen has something unique going for it: It's patterned after the Indian Bollywood genre.

You know, comedy, action, romance and drama all rolled into one lavish, spectacle-heavy flick, where characters are apt to break out into song-and-dance numbers whenever they feel like it, and everyone and everything is as pretty as can be.

The bhangra-flavored songs aren't the most memorable ditties ever, but they're full of joy and passion and humor.

A village marketplace boogies it up with a new bride; four sisters tease one another in verse about finding that perfect man who'll talk to their faces rather than their chests; a gospel choir and some Baywatch-esque lifeguards swirl around an embracing couple; and Ashanti shows up, gyrating and crooning, at an Indian beach resort.

Bride & Prejudice is not without its flaws though: It crisscrosses the globe (India, England, L.A. and back again), making some scenes feel rushed and lending the narrative a wobbly-at-spots structure.

But its sweet nature and fun-loving charm eclipse that.

It's best to give up any cravings for a high-art cinematic experience, and just take in Bride & Prejudice's kooky performances, colorful visuals, equally intelligent and slapstick wit, and that eternally relate-able premise of finding some sweet lovin' in the most unexpected people and places.