The movie's problems start with its very premise, which is essentially a magic-themed remake of Rocky III. To wit: egomaniacal Burt Wonderstone (Carell) and his affable partner Anton Marvelton (Buscemi) have been the Vegas's reigning illusionists for a decade now, but now their title is being challenged by streetwise upstart Steve Gray (Carrey), a Criss Angel knock-off with a strong masochistic streak, which he demonstrates on his cable show, Brain Rapist. (Get it? Because Angel's show was called Mindfreak, so the funny version of that is obviously Brain Rapist! Somebody get Chuck Lorre on the phone, 'cause we've found a new showrunner for Two and a Half Men!) Wonderstone attempts to combat the Gray threat head-on with a daring David Blaine-esque, but ends up taking a literal fall that costs him his job, his lavish digs and his already-tenuous friendship with Anton. Fortunately, he finds his very own Apollo Creed in the form of retired magician Rance Holloway (Arkin), who re-awakens the fighter within and teaches him a few new tricks in the bargain.

Maybe this scenario would have seemed more believable about six or seven years ago, when guys like Blaine and Angel were actually attracting a ton of media attention with their carefully manufactured images as rebel magicians. But even at the height of their fame, they didn't exactly pose a challenge to traditional illusionists like David Copperfield, who Wonderstone is clearly modeled after and who briefly cameos in the movie as himself. (Which begs the question, if Copperfield exists in this version of Las Vegas, why the hell is Burt Wonderstone the city's biggest magic draw?) And, quite frankly, cutting edge doesn't fly in Vegas; after all, this is the city where some of the biggest entertainment draws include Celine Dion, Jeff Dunham and, believe it or not, Carrot Top. Given that the movie is built on such a shaky, illogical foundation, it's probably no surprise that Burt Wonderstone quickly collapses upon itself. Nothing that happens in the movie makes any sense, not in a real world context or the reality the film presents. And because the audience can't believe in these characters or their world, nothing they do is particularly funny.

It's easy to see why Carell might have been initially attracted to this project, as the role of Wonderstone offers him some respite from the likable doofus role he normally plays, allowing him to channel his inner asshole. But try as he might, he's just too gosh darned nice to convincingly portray a mean-spirited bastard. (That was one of the reasons why the tone of the U.S. Office differed so strongly from the U.K. original and the show suffered whenever Michael Scott acted in ways that were more appropriate to David Brent.) In the first half of the movie, he puffs up his chest, raises his voice an octave and struts about like the cock of the walk, but it's clearly all a put-on. It's only when Wonderstone's egomania subsides that Carell's natural comic talents come to the fore.

Carrey fares a bit better throughout since Gray is supposed to be a live action cartoon throughout, allowing the actor to resurrect the rubber face shtick that made him a star in the '90s. But whatever sparks were supposed to fly from the meeting of these two actors completely fail to ignite, maybe because the script by John Francis Daley (the one-time child star of Freaks & Geeks, who you really think would have grown up into a better writer based on the material he got to read and perform on that show) and Jonathan M. Goldstein doesn't give them anything funny to do. And speaking of a lack of sparks, poor Olivia Wilde is dragged into this mess to serve as Wonderstone's love interest, a supposedly tough-minded aspiring magician who nevertheless goes weak in the knees when Burt treats her with a single ounce of dignity after otherwise abusing her trust for the duration of the movie. (The significant age gap between Carell and Wilde -- he's 50, she's a year shy of 30 -- doesn't help this storyline feel any less creepy and borderline misogynistic.) The Incredible Burt Wonderstone doesn't provide comedy or even the illusion of comedy -- it's just a sad, sorry spectacle.

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