Entertainment

‘Over’ the limit for stupidity

The “wild” college movie “21 & Over” is aimed at those with an IQ of 21 and under, but just because your comedy is dumb doesn’t mean it’s funny.

The night buttoned-up JeffChang (that’s how he’s referred to throughout, as if repetition will make it funnier) is turning 21, he has to go to bed early because of a morning med-school interview that his domineering dad arranged. So he can’t go out with his buddies, the burnout Miller (Miles Teller) and the smart, ambitious Casey (Skylar Astin). Well, maybe for just one drink.

How does that turn out? Hint: The opener is Casey and Miller walking across campus, each naked except for a single centrally placed tube sock. We flash back to the craaaazy story of how this nuttiness went down . . .

If the setup sounds familiar, or stale, check the writer-directors’ names: They’re Jon Lucas and Scott Moore, whose writing credits include (the overrated but amusing) “The Hangover.” Don’t expect as much from this one, as Lucas and Moore apparently didn’t have much to do with the earlier film. Says who? Says Lucas: “ ‘The Hangover’ was really director Todd Phillips’ movie . . . this [“21 & Over”] is more an expression of who we are,” he is quoted as saying in the production notes. You might wanna be quiet about that, Jon, because the movie gives the impression that you and your partner are kind of moronic.

The movie is basically 90 minutes of senseless plot (how is it that, after a lengthy night of pub-crawling, it’s still early enough for a pep rally?) that does nothing except link various episodes of drinking, vomiting and chucking JeffChang (Justin Chon) out of various buildings. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone ralph in super-slo-mo while riding a mechanical bull before, so kudos for originality there, I guess. But beer is only fun to drink, not to watch others drink. Whereas vomiting really doesn’t qualify as entertaining either way.

JeffChang (it’s funny cause it’s Asian? Would they run the names together if they were JeffJones?) passes out, and the other two drag him around all night trying to figure out his address so they can put him to sleep before his morning interview. Wouldn’t both pals have this info in their smartphones, especially since both have already been to his house? Since all three have been friends for years, wouldn’t they know lots of others who would have the address in their smartphones? Wouldn’t it be easier to wake up Jeff than drag him around? Couldn’t they just find him a quiet place to crash until he sobers up?

Instead, Casey and Miller bust into a Latina sorority where Jeff is so wasted he eats a tampon. They all wind up getting chased off a high floor by an angry mob. (Jeff gets tossed, unconscious, onto a covered swimming pool, like a toy.)

Lucas and Moore keep coming up with wacky notions and leaving them dangling in the breeze, like the unclothed male butt cheeks they deliver in scene after scene after scene.

Wouldn’t it be funny, they ask, if a drunk guy with a teddy bear glued to his man-parts and a bra around his chest dashed around climbing on cars? Could be. But that’s just a setup. Then what? Where’s the payoff? The writers don’t know. They think they’re done. They move on.

Miller and Casey do a lot of bantering, but nothing they say is funny, because Moore and Lucas haven’t figured out that just typing the words “bro” and “bitches” a few dozen times isn’t actual comedy. Try it yourself: The weather is 42 degrees and clear, bitches. I’m going out to lunch, bro. “I’m the mayor of Crazyville!” one of the guys proclaims. Dude, you couldn’t even be a city councilman in Eccentrictown.