A breezy, well-paced diversion, amusing rather than scintillating yet clearly personal.

The boys' laddish catchphrase -- "Shut up!" -- is particularly irritating, especially since they never do.

This uneven romantic comedy is firmly in the Zach Braff-ian mold: It features a group of thirtysomething men who are so terrified of growing up that they behave semi-moronically for the majority of the film.

A grab bag of sitcom jokes that work about 20% of the time.

Trite, sententious and generally unfunny.

Lacks any of the socio-economic or political concerns of "The Big Chill." Indeed its shallowness is reflected in one character's abiding concern with his receding hairline.

It's all a case of been-there, done-that, although the singing is nice. Still, do we really need another movie with thirtysomethings who ache to re-live their college years? C'mon, guys, grow up!

Fortunately, there is Molly Shannon as the money manager's disgruntled wife, giving a selfless, robust performance. Bracingly astringent in an unlikable role, she almost turns a potential liability into the film's salvation.

The dialogue is brightly self-conscious, and sometimes it clicks. Just as often it curdles into an entitled whining.