Sisters

It takes balls to open against "Star Wars: The Force Awakens," but that's the chance that "Sisters" is doing this week. Though perhaps enough marketing has been done to suggest that there's an audience out there that would prefer this Tina Fey-Amy Poehler raunchy comedy to the PG-rated space epic. "Sisters" is the feminine alternative to the bro comedy - call it a "fro" comedy; but what Fey and Poehler do is bring their considerable comic skills to the kind of dumb comedy Hollywood has been putting out for years, usually with Seth Rogan and James Franco, and they make it work. You may find yourself laughing in spite of yourself.

The premise has Fey and Poehler as very different sisters: Fey is Kate, a 40-year old mother in free-fall sleeping on the sofa of a friend and unemployed. Even her daughter has abandoned her, finding refuge by living with friends. Maura (Poehler) is her opposite: a nurse with do-gooder tendencies. (In her spare time she gives sunscreen to the homeless on the street along with cards with inspirational slogans.) When their parents - James Brolin and Dianne Weist - announce that they are selling their childhood home, the sisters take it badly. Both had planned on returning to Orlando from Atlanta and live with their parents; but it looks as if there won't be a home for them to move to.

The sisters spend a last evening at the home, packing up their bedroom filled with all kinds of '80s crap (a Michael J. Fox poster, Dep hair gel) and reading their diaries from their high school years. Kate's entries are about her partying; Maura's concern her helping others. (She even quotes Helen Keller for inspiration.) Kate suggests they throw one last blast in the house before they have to leave it for the new owners, a pair of upscale New Yorkers who are buying it with cash. Maura has one catch: that this time around she gets party while Kate plays the role of the Party Mom.

The party takes up considerable running time, starting sleepy as the sisters' guests (their high school friends) turn out to be set in their middle-aged ways. Booze and drugs, though, work their magic and it isn't long before the night gets unhinged, with the house all but destroyed in the process. A drunk Maura falls through the ceiling when she sneaks off to the attic with her sweet-tempered neighbor (a well-cast Ike Barinholtz); an annoyingly boisterous party-goer (Bobby Moynihan) finds some hidden drugs and becomes even more annoying; penis graffiti adorns the walls; even the ground opens up and swallows the swimming pool.

We've been here before, but what makes "Sisters" seem less than a bro-comedy retread is how expertly Fey and Poehler disappear into their characters. They also get some much-needed comic support from Maya Rudolph, as Kate's snotty nemesis; a hilariously depressed Rachel Dratch; John Leguizamo's oily Lothario; and - best of all - a deadpan John Cena as a drug dealer with a tattoos running up his neck and the icy demeanor of a DHS agent. Amongst the film's funniest bits are an exchange between Poehler and Greta Lee, as a soft-spoken Korean manicurist, over the pronunciation of Lee's name. In another Poehler and Barinholtz have a disastrous sexual encounter in which Barinholtz gets an unexpected prostate massage from an unlikely source. It's pretty low, but you will likely laugh in spite of yourself.

Post-party, "Sisters" returns to its family narrative, touching issues of children unable to leave the nest and the parents that want them to. Dianne Weist has a great swearing jag when she expresses her frustration with her daughters; but this being a holiday comedy, it all ends well on Christmas. The film's director, Jason Moore ("Pitch Perfect") is sensible enough just to let his lead actors do what they do best, which is bring the distinctive style they have perfected on television to a movie. "Sisters" is an old school, audience-pleaser, whether it will find an audience in the din of "Star Wars" mania remains to be seen.