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School for Scoundrels is about a class that wrings the inner wimp out of hapless dweebs.
So what do the filmmakers do?
They wimp out.
The presence of Billy Bob Thornton alone -- again riffing on the alpha male lout he has all but patented -- should guarantee a raucous wall-to-wall riot, right?
Not quite. Yes, there are enough laughs to recommend this loose remake of the 1960 British farce, but, saddled with a kinder, gentler PG-13 rating, the comedy isn't as ruthless as it should be.
It's no coincidence director Todd Phillips' best movie, Old School, was cheerfully R-rated (or that Thornton's Bad Santa is as foul and foul-mouthed as movies come in these regrettably puritanical times).
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Add to the watered-down gags a requisite romantic subplot that never quite enchants and a grating, over-the-top cameo from Ben Stiller in the third act (Stiller's rapidly on his way to becoming the most unwelcome actor around) and you get an entertaining-enough flick that could have been an A, but ends up a passable B.
Jon Heder, dialing down the gawkiness of his breakthrough role in Napoleon Dynamite, stars as Roger, a spineless New York City meter maid prone to panic attacks and being picked on (everyone from the people he tries to ticket to his co-workers treat him like a human Hacky Sack).
He can't even muster the nerve to ask out the girl next door, Amanda, a warm-hearted Australian (played by real-life Aussie Jacinda Barrett, also on screens in The Last Kiss). Roger hits bottom when he's dumped (again) as a big brother, leading him to a secretive, cash-only class taught by Thornton's Dr. P, a self-styled self-help guru who shows weak men how to unleash their "inner lion."
As Phillips has demonstrated before, he's particularly adroit at managing an ensemble and, expectedly, the movie delivers most of its laughs when Roger and his classmates are suffering at the hands of Dr. P and his assistant Lesher (Michael Clarke Duncan).
But when the script pits Roger against Dr. P for the affections of Amanda things begin to stumble. Stiller, for one, is so bad he's distracting as an embittered former student who aids Roger (echoing Will Ferrell's supporting turn at the end of Wedding Crashers) while Barrett is such a bland actress it's difficult to care who she ends up with. (Sarah Silverman, who plays Amanda's fork-tongued friend, would have made for a saucier and pleasingly-less-predictable love interest.)
Despite these misgivings, there's also much to enjoy, particularly the central performances. Thornton manages to embellish his Bad Santa persona with enough individual touches (Dr. P is decidedly slicker and more cunning) that it doesn't feel like he's just sleepwalking his way to a paycheque.
Opposite him, Heder, as a more down-to-earth nerd than we're used to, exudes enough natural warmth to hint at a future beyond Napoleon.
Too bad what should have been an epic clash of comic misdeeds feels, in the end, defanged. If only Dr. P had been directing, he might have realized it's best when filmmakers, especially those attempting mean-spirited comedy, behave like lions, not lambs.
(This film is rated PG)