Recently, a studio representative called to ask, in the event that "Hellboy II" and "Mama Mia" screened on the same night, which I would choose to attend.

I believe this to be the most rhetorical, self-answering question ever posed, even considering all possible alternatives.

A Ferrari or a Plymouth Horizon?

Lottery winnings or a prison sentence?

Cherry pie or a prostate exam?

Bear in mind that I've been beating the Guillermo Del Toro drum since seeing "Cronos" 15 years ago at the Philadelphia Film Festival, that I'm the only person on the planet who hailed "Mimic" (giant cockroaches in the subway) as a great movie and the only critic (so far as I know) who declared that Ron Perlman should be nominated for an Oscar for his performance in the original "Hellboy."

Which, truth be told, I preferred to "Pan's Labyrinth," the movie that gave Del Toro his Oscar. Not my favorite, but it did put me in a position to say I told you so.

So, with apologies to ABBA, to the 1970s, to disco, to Swedish pop and to the spectacle of Meryl Streep playing air guitar, it was with ease and greedy anticipation that I chose to see "Hellboy II: The Golden Army."

The sequel finds Hellboy - a supernatural demon raised by the U.S. Government and recruited to combat paranormal threats - still fighting with his on-again, off-again girlfriend (Selma Blair), who's still a cross between Catwoman and a Weber grill.

This time, their bickering plays out against the backdrop of a new threat. An angry Elf (Luke Goss) wants to find an ancient artifact that will enable him to activate a mechanical army he'll use to destroy mankind.

Elves, goblins, trolls, magical crowns, ancient truce or curse - I waited a little impatiently for Del Toro to cough up all of this mythology so we could get to the good stuff, which is Perlman's hilariously laconic Hellboy.

I think it's easy to to underrate what Perlman does with Hellboy, because so much of the performance is red body armor and heavy makeup, and he's so often surrounded by computer-generated monsters.

But that's the genius of it. Perlman knows how Hellboy registers, so he doesn't compete or detract by bellowing or gesturing. He's judiciously low-key and economical, lowering the volume on his big, deep voice and remaining studiously unimpressed by what's happening around him. (Confronted with a 10-story monster, Perlman responds with a barely audible, "Oh, crap.")

Hellboy has been compared to a '40s noir detective, and that's just about right. With his self-devised code of honor, bruised chivalry and slug-first-ask-questions-later style, he's Philip Marlowe with horns.

And I think it's because Hellboy is such an urban creature that the movie suffers when Del Toro tries to drag it into Tolkien country, eventually leaving Manhattan for daylight and the Shire (actually Ireland), where a thickly mythological act three occurs.

The finale gives Del Toro a chance to show off: Nobody's better at mixing computer-generated characters, prosthetics, animatronics and old-school costumes. Del Toro has a knack for original designs that complement his ideas, and he remains fascinated with antique-mechanical devices in a way that invites the audience to share his obsession.

But the bravura visuals start to weigh the movie down, in part because they don't always feel right for the character of Hellboy, who has so much of the modern and the real in him, appearances to the contrary.

In what is by far the movie's best scene, Hellboy consoles a lovelorn pal by getting drunk on Tecate and singing Manilow.

There is the suggestion of another sequel, one that promises to be even more myth-ridden and humorless than "Hellboy II."

To quote my favorite red devil, Oh crap. *

Produced by Lawrence Gordon, Mike Richardson and Lloyd Levin, written and directed by Guillermo Del Toro, distributed by Universal Pictures.