The Singing Detective

''The Singing Detective,'' Dennis Potter's 1986 mini-series, is the kind of television production that justifies the existence of the medium -- a gloomy, episodic swirl of old pop music, film noir and psychological subtext that rewards repeated viewing. In the mind of its creator, it also deserved to be made again, as a feature film.

Potter, who died in 1994, wrote a screenplay that, in addition to abridging the original story, moved its action, and its cultural frame of reference, from England to Los Angeles, and from the 1940's to the 50's. That ''Singing Detective,'' directed by Keith Gordon and starring Robert Downey Jr., opens today in New York.

A lot has been lost in translation. On its way to the big screen, Potter's intricate, fascinating story has shrunk. The ideas that lurked in the mini-series' shadows and alleyways are now placed squarely in the spotlight, where they look obvious and thin.

Mr. Downey plays Dan Dark, a pulp novelist suffering from a horrendous psoriatic condition that has rendered him a prisoner in his own scaly, lesion-covered skin. He lies in a hospital bed, unable to move, his hands clenched in gnarled half-fists, feeling operatically (if understandably) sorry for himself. In his mind, episodes from his novel, also called ''The Singing Detective,'' mingle with painful childhood memories, and these begin to bleed into the drab, dispiriting reality of the hospital, fueling Dan's paranoia and also offering clues to his disordered consciousness.

On hand to help him sort them out is a psychiatrist, played by Mel Gibson (also one of the film's producers) with a wispy blond comb-over and bottle-thick eyeglasses. The doctor's methods may be a little unorthodox -- he is the one who reclines on the couch, while Dan fidgets in his wheelchair -- but their sessions produce a flat-footed Freudian interpretation of Dan's character.

In his writing, his dreams and his daily life, Dan is surrounded by familiar female archetypes -- the femme fatale (Robin Wright Penn), the unhappy mother (Carla Gugino), the luscious, solicitous nurse (Katie Holmes) -- and his attitudes toward them arise from a primal scene of Oedipal guilt and sexual confusion.

The problem with this version of ''The Singing Detective,'' which shows scrupulous respect for Potter's literary preoccupations, is that its themes jut out awkwardly, rather than being enfolded in drama or spectacle.

Though Mr. Downey's twitchy intelligence shines through the grotesque makeup he wears for the hospital scenes, Dan ultimately seems more like a theory than a person. The unpacking of his psychic baggage is both too neat and too clumsy; a great deal is revealed, but the feeling of revelation is missing.

There are talky, inertly filmed scenes that make the movie feel like a staged reading of the script, and these jostle uncomfortably with the self-consciously theatrical moments of singing and tough-guy playacting.

The movie lurches when it should glide, shouts when it should whisper and mumbles when it should sing.

''The Singing Detective'' is rated R (Under 17 requires accompanying parent or adult guardian). It includes profanity, sex and violence.

THE SINGING DETECTIVE

Directed by Keith Gordon; written by Dennis Potter; director of photography, Tom Richmond; production designer, Patricia Norris; produced by Bruce Davey, Steven Haft and Mel Gibson; released by Paramount Classics. Running time: 109 minutes. This film is rated R.

WITH: Adrien Brody (First Hood), Robert Downey Jr. (Dan Dark), Mel Gibson (Dr. Gibbon), Carla Gugino (Betty Dark/Hooker), Katie Holmes (Nurse Mills), Jeremy Northam (Mark Binney), Jon Polito (Second Hood), Saul Rubinek (Skin Specialist), Robin Wright Penn (Nicola/Nina/Blonde) and Alfre Woodard (Chief of Staff).