Father Figures

"Father Figures" starts off with a proctological examination and a lame joke. That's pretty much a warning about what to expect for the next two hours -- time you might wish you had spent more wisely.

Directed by Lawrene Sher and written by Justin Malen, the film is a showcase of major acting talent in full wheel-spinning mode. Glenn Close, Christopher Walken, and J.K. Simmons all show up (what, they had nothing better to do?), while Owen Wilson and Ed Helms star as the most unlikely pair of fraternal twins since Arnold Schwarzenegger and Danny DeVito shared the screen in "Twins." The storyline, however, feels ripped -- painfully -- from another family comedy. You'll recognize it at once: The boys learn (thanks to a rerun of "Law & Order") that the man in the old family photos is not the dead father they always heard about from their mother (Close). The guy in the pictures is an English actor that Mom used to know; she cast him in the role of dead father in order to protect her sons from the truth about their father.

Or, make that fathers. It turns out that there are several candidates for the title. Mama mia, you may find yourself muttering: Here we go again.

And go is the operative word. Once Mom gives the brothers to understand that their father is football star-turned-commentator Terry Bradshaw, they hit the road for Florida where it turns out be snap to get to know the celebrity, who is painted as something a dolt. (Bizarrely, Bradshaw seems okay with all this and even plays a version of himself.) But when alternative paternal possibilities open up, the fellows extend their road trip, careening from locale to locale and sketchy situation to sketchy (or even downright impossible) situation until, after a farrago involving planes (and cute stewardesses), trains (colliding, naturally, with their rental car while a bound hitchhiker screams in the back seat... don't ask), and automobiles (a couple of which are targeted for grad theft by another possible daddy, played by Simmons), they arrive...

Well, no spoilers. Let's just say that home is a theme the movie plays with in a variety of ways, right along with family. (Though, this being one of those films in which everyone casually speaks to each other in the most inappropriate and off-color ways imaginable, it's not really a family to which you might want to belong.) Along the way, various "sub-missions" are addressed and accomplished: Getting Peter (Helms), the tightly-wound brother, laid is secondary action item number one, but even this accomplishment comes freighted with an off-putting spin, not to mention a brawl at a funeral and some atrocious attempts at Massachusetts accents. (Again... don't ask.)

Another subplot involves a possible reversal of fortune for free-floating, happy-go-lucky brother Kyle (Wilson), whose life has been a daisy chain of charmed encounters and fortunate breaks resulting in a personal wealth, a hot (and pregnant) girlfriend, and an undimmably sunny disposition. Kyle is the Smiling Fish to Peter's Goat on Fire, and Wilson -- always charming -- does bring the character a sun-weathered, laid-back charisma, but that doesn't carry the film.

The poorly conceived sorry segues in fits and jolts from one situation to the next, uneven of tone and sometimes jarringly inconsistent within individual scenes. After a time you realize that -- as is so often the case -- the point here is not the destination, but the journey. Too bad this journey falls short of taking us anyplace that feels worth the bother.