When a movie comes up with a title first -- as Pineapple Express director David Gordon Green has publicly admitted about Your Highness -- one has to question its quality. (After all, isn't that how Black Knight was made?) But as it turns out, with this the cast and crew, what could have been a paint-by-numbers medieval comedy turns out to be a hilariously vulgar homage to clichéd hero's quest movies.

Simon Pegg and Nick Frost are like the geek community's Laurel and Hardy. After Spaced, Shaun of the Dead and Hot Fuzz, putting them together in a movie -- even without Edgar Wright at the helm -- is like mixing up a batch of nerd Kool-Aid, and we're all gonna drink it. But while the Greg Mottola-directed Paul is packed with plenty of references to comic books, Comic-Con and science fiction, it's also a raunchfest worthy of the Superbaddirector. So if you're a nerd who likes dick jokes, you'll be McLovin' it, but otherwise it's just a fun road trip comedy that somehow manages to be less than the sum of its parts. Think of it as Fanboys with two Brits and an alien, and minus Kristen Bell.

While Take Me Home Tonight is set in 1988, and constantly reminds you of that fact with its endlessly danceable soundtrack, the real time warp will happen as you look at the faces of the actors and actresses who appear in it. Since the film was shot four years ago, you feel like you're watching archival footage of Topher Grace, Anna Faris, Dan Fogler and the rest, which... actually makes it feel like a real 1980s film. The sense that the movie is old, combined with the film's themes of growing up, the consequence-free gallivanting and the easily pat resolution, cumulatively give the impression of watching a vintage John Hughes movie, with just a hint of Judd Apatow. It likely wasn't intentional, but shelving this movie for so long did wonders for its enjoyability.

The Farrelly Brothers like to spice up their comedies with risque scenarios and shocking imagery, but I wish they'd spice up their comedies with some comedy. Because while there are a few great laughs in Hall Pass, a lot of time is spent on making the characters sympathetic and redeemable, and while that's normally a good thing, it's not the case when it means half of your funny movie isn't particularly funny. While I love a happy ending as much as the next guy, this movie had the potential to depict a total disaster, and a safe wrap-up leaves me wondering why I bothered watching it in the first place.

The commercials for Cedar Rapids make the movie look like a sequel to The Hangover, and they're not far off. We do follow Ed Helms and three of his friends as they engage in day (or more) of drug-and-alcohol-fueled misadventures. But while that movie was about trying to discover what your mistakes were and undo them, Cedar Rapids is about learning how to make mistakes, and finding out that mistakes don't make you a bad person. And Helms isn't reprising his mature dentist character from that film -- instead, he's assumed the Zach Galifianakis role of a naive man-child, and instead of a man-purse, he has a hidden wallet strapped around his midsection.

Ed Helms has enjoyed a meteoric rise to fame thanks to The Daily Show, The Office and The Hangover, and while his newest starring vehicle, Cedar Rapids, bears only a superficial resemblance to the latter movie, it's just as hilarious. Helms plays an insurance salesman who's never left his small town, and is exposed to a world of debauchery and corruption in a trip to a convention in metropolitan Cedar Rapids, Iowa. We attended a press conference with Helms where he talked about his character, The Wire and getting naked with Kurtwood Smith.

It's one of the great crimes of Hollywood that there was only one sequel to Chevy Chase's 1985 mystery-comedy Fletch, especially since there are actually nine books about reporter Irwin M. Fletcher, plus two about his son, and the sequel wasn't even based on any of them. One of Chase's greatest roles, Fletch was a charming, cocky chameleon, with a list of aliases as long as his arm and a snarky response always at the ready. After years of us dreading a Kevin Smith-directed reboot, Warner Bros. has acquired the rights to the character, and we're excited to think about who might take over the director's chair, not to mention the highly sought-after role. Ben Affleck, Jason Lee and Josh Jackson have all been attached in the past, but we've got our own set of nominees.

You've got to hand it to Seth Rogen: the guy wanted to make a superhero movie, so he found a hero nobody was doing anything with, one that he could conceivably play, and he wrote a script (with collaborator Evan Goldberg) that successfully hybridized the Green Hornet's atypical origin story with a slacker buddy comedy. When his director and co-star backed out, he found another director and another co-star, and the end result, the 3-D, Michel Gondry-directed, visually stunning Green Hornet, is unlike any superhero movie I've seen. It manages to take Rogen's idiotic, confrontational comedy shtick and make it a seamless part of the story of a hero's rise. Because what kind of idiot puts on a mask and goes out looking for a fight?

Has Vince Vaughn been forbidden from making dramas? The man hasn't starred in a non-comedy film since 2001, so someone, somewhere has decided that they aren't for him. And it's too bad, because Vaughn used to play psychos and FBI agents, and he's still capable of looking devastated and broken, which he does frequently in The Dilemma, a drama film masquerading as a comedy. The film half-heartedly tries to live up to that lie throughout, but it's difficult in a movie that's entirely about betrayal and stress and addiction. The jokes, such as they are, seem to be there solely to buoy up the downer of a plot, which would have been much better served by a movie that wholeheartedly embraced the sadness. (Note to studios: When Kevin James is in your movie and he doesn't do a single pratfall, you've got a drama on your hands.)

I love how inaccurate the definitions "comedy" and "drama" can be. Most films have both, and usually more of one than another, but a good number of them are essentially dramedies, either due to a calculated balance or an inability to commit. (For instance, The Tourist, ostensibly an action thriller, was nominated for a Golden Globe for Best Comedy or Musical, presumably due to Depp's lackadaisical commitment to the laughably clichéd storyline.) So when I saw that Paul Giamatti had been nominated for a Globe for Best Actor in a Comedy or Musical for Barney's Version, I just knew that this wouldn't be a pure comedy -- despite the trailer's focus on a Heartbreak Kid-style plot point, it also showed some sadly romantic longing. But I had no idea how depressing things would get, since the movie pretty much abandons comedy halfway through, and the romance never lasts.