The movie is the person, juvenile and silly in both tasteful (yum, glue!) and distasteful ways (yuck, masturbation porta-potty!), showing glimpses of genuine sweetness (“Everyone my age pees their pants. It’s the coolest!”) amidst the sloppy-like-Joes coming-of-age arc, and in the end getting a passing grade (but barely), thanks to consistent pops of good, goofy comedy (see the musical number; the O’Doyles’ fate) and one-liners galore (“You get your ass out there and you find that fucking dog”).
A half-baked story, a fully-baked storyteller, and Old James (no wait, he wasn’t there, I don’t even know nobody named Old James) lend the film a certain smoggy air of awkward, stilted, fairy tale-like charm (Mary [Jane] Poppins-esque green-screen flying and all) but the good bits (e.g. guy on the couch, “janitor” and “scientist”) are outnumbered by the bad ones: namely, a gross jail caricature (rape, always hilarious), eye-rolling scantily-clad henchwomen, and a romance that’s hard to root for.