Wesley Fenlon | Not with a bang but a whimper.

As a genre, buddy cop movies thrive on the cliche.  Oftentimes they are nothing but a series of recognizable cliches strung together, from the sassy love-hate relationship to the victorious shootout finale.  Sometimes they’re done well and you get Lethal Weapon.  Sometimes you get Rush Hour 3.  Adam McKay’s The Other Guys may share structure with those movies, but its tone is so utterly bizarre that between every bout of laughter, I was left feeling downright weird.

Ferrell and Wahlberg star as a number-cruncher and a screw-up who get no respect around the office, and hardly deserve to.  They’re pretty terrible police officers by movie standards.  When they happen to stumble upon a major case, they immediately screw it up, but keep doggedly pursuing it to prove they have what it takes.

The most interesting thing about The Other Guys is how McKay intentionally plays with the genre–the plot actually intentionally subverts a lot of predictable cop movie elements, and the action actually involves very little ass-kicking.  In one awesome White Stripes-driven scene, Mark Wahlberg wields two guns in a slow-motion shootout…and doesn’t actually seem to hit anyone.

The Other Guys does have a few problems, mainly driven by a minor identity crisis.  Yes, it’s a comedy first, but as the film draws closer to the end it begins to focus more and more on the nation’s financial crisis and the crimes perpetrated by mega corporations.  The ending credits even go so far as to provide facts and figures about the government banking bailouts and ludicrous salaries of CEOs.  It’s actually really disturbing, and retroactively paints earlier moments in a pretty dark light.  Michael Keaton’s turn as by-day police captain, by-night Bed Bath and beyond manager sounds funny and looks funny, but man is that a depressing image.

The Other Guys either needed a bit more comedy or a bit more serious cop drama–either way, the two made for a slightly uneven mix, which the writing capitalized on to make things even more awkward.  It’s hard to describe what makes the movie so downright bizarre–the writing and delivery are so off-kilter that they clash with the relatively realistic world Wahlberg and Ferrell bumble through.  It’s like this celluloid version of New York has its own reality–common for cinema, especially comedies or fantasies–where we don’t know quite how seriously we’re supposed to take things, which leads to quite a few “Oh man did that just happen” moments.

Even if the movie bounces kind of weirdly between farce and reality, the writing is spot-on most of the time and stays pretty damn funny throughout–though the film begins on such a high, it would be impossible to retain that momentum until the end.  You may finish the movie feeling as though you’re not quite sure what you just saw.  But for a genre movie, isn’t that the most pleasant of surprises?

“Date Night” is the kind of lighthearted comedy that panders to its audience. The kind of inoffensive PG-13 comedy that mild-mannered suburbanites can enjoy, thanks to the perfect blend of raciness and family values. The kind of comedy that, frankly, should be utterly mediocre.

And yet, with the comedic talents of Steve Carell and Tina Fey in the starring roles, “Date Night” admirably exceeds expectations.

The names of the writer and director don’t do much to inspire confidence. Helmed by Shawn Levy, whose previous directing efforts include the (not so) thrilling “Night at the Museum” and (yawn) “Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian,” and written by “Shrek the Third” contributor John Klausner, it’s hard to believe “Date Night” is anything but kitschy family fare. But with the exception of a few weak moments, the script is surprisingly funny, and the action well-filmed.

At times, “Date Night” reaches a bit too hard for its laughs. It relies on familiar, exaggerated characters — dirty cops, sassy maître d’s — to keep the audience on familiar ground. I found the crazy, fast-talking black cabdriver to be particularly cringe-inducing, the kind of “clever” character who’s not actually the least bit original — or welcome.

Just as unnecessary are the film’s callbacks to previous jokes. The self-referential, remember-this-funny-thing-we-did technique is hard to pull off well, and “Date Night” can’t pull it off. The dialogue, too, occasionally tries harder than it should to be funny, and can end up feeling forced as a result.
Thankfully, for every line of dialogue that overextends itself to grab desperately for an unconvincing chuckle, Carrell and Fey deliver another with enough zeal to keep the laughs coming. They play Phil and Claire Foster, an average married couple whose lives are consumed by the day-in, day-out struggles of juggling marriage, jobs, and kids. When they head into the Big Apple for a special date night at a fancy restaurant, they do something a little out of character — steal another couple’s dinner reservation, since they didn’t make one of their own.

An increasingly ridiculous comedy of errors ensues, as the Fosters are mistaken for blackmailers in possession of some very lucrative information. For the most part, they react like normal people would: with panicky, incoherent babbling and a whole lot of freaking out.

Fey’s and Carell’s comedic styles perfectly suit “Date Night” — their experience playing awkward personalities (Fey in “30 Rock,” Carell in “The Office” and “The 40 Year Old Virgin”) lends the Fosters an air of credibility as normal people stuck in a screwball comedy. Their excellent on-screen rapport keeps each scene moving at a brisk pace and quickly makes them a likeable leading couple.

The biggest surprise of “Date Night’s” hour and a half adventure is its hilarious, tightly choreographed chase scene, starring a souped-up Ferrari and a beat-up taxi cab, front bumpers intertwined, careening through the streets of LA at breakneck speeds. When Carell climbs onto the hood of the careening Ferrari and inches his way across to the taxi, we know it’s ridiculous — but so do the characters, and their own bafflement makes the situation all the funnier.

For a comedy that relies mostly on the witty banter of its stars, the few sight gags “Date Night” employs are, amazingly, pretty much guaranteed to elicit laughs. Though the car chase stands out, a short scene slow-moving motorboat delivers one of the film’s best moments, and Holbrook’s (Mark Wahlberg) six-pack abs dominate the frame every time they’re in sight, to Phil Foster’s dismay (and Claire Foster’s delight).

“Date Night” isn’t a perfect film; the screenplay could’ve been something great with a bit more work, and some of the funniest lines of dialogue show up in the end credits in the form of outtakes. More improvisation from Tina Fey could’ve provided laughs in the few scenes that just aren’t that funny. James Franco is also tragically underutilized, showing up for about five minutes of screen time. Still, despite its flaws, “Date Night” defies the odds by being better than most family-friendly romantic comedies. If you’re looking for a date movie, you could do much worse.