It's going to pull in the cash at the box-office. It has everything it needs to sell a clever plot about the "good life" among today's swinging set in Los Angeles, peppered with smut, crudity, raunch and casual discussions of every possible body function or description ("She's got a bush like a porcupine" is among the least offensive.) - all f-in passed off as f-in comedic sh-, all 105-minutes of f- sh- that's funny? Clever? Daring? Or just plain F-in inept?

Paul Rudd and Jason Segal portray a most up-to-date kind of odd couple. Rudd, preparing for marriage, finds that he has never developed a taste for male bonding, is now desperately in search for a best man. Segal comes to the rescue as a likable, easy-going lout living in rumpled casualness on Venice Beach - an opposite to Rudd's button-down life in real estate sales. Opposites attract each other, right? So it's only natural that these two guys magnetically become friends in a kind of bonding. Rudd discovers his more outgoing self while Segal tempers down his blatantly hell-who-cares personality. It's a case of boy-meets-boy, boy-loses-boy, boy-gets-boy - all very platonically, of course, since their penchant for the opposite sex (for sex) is, continuously, well spelled out.

Ever since Judd Apatow rose to fame with his in-your-face form of humor, his "epater les bourgeois" technique has been adapted - pushed in this film to new lows by the Master's past associates, director & writer John Hamburg (with Larry Levin as co-writer), and actors Paul Rudd, Jason Segal, Jon Favreau et al. Results of their combined talents is a calculated move to create clever twists on boy/girl clichés while altering comedic standards to the point where standards of decency, morality and taste are reversed as the new devices for humor. Masturbation, splatter vomiting, animal feces, gross vulgarity in everyday talk form the basis for what passes as comedy. And, sadly, audiences have come to accept it.

Each to his own taste.