There are bad movies, and then there are bad movies. And then there is Someone Marry Barry, as much a “comedy” because it was categorized as such on IMDB as much as cup stacking is a “sport” because it was shown on ESPN 2.

Written and directed by Rob Pearlstein, the film is the tale of a group of friends dealing with life in their 30s. Rafe (Hayes MacArthur) is the single dad more intent on chasing tail than actually being a father; Kurt (Thomas Middleditch) is the pussy-whipped idiot doormat; and Desmond (Damon Wayans Jr.) is the token black character, because that seems to be the norm in buddy comedy movies these days.

Rounding out this grab bag of stereotypes is the main character Barry (Tyler Labine as the poor man’s Jack Black), the foul-mouthed funny man of the group. After Barry’s obnoxious antics ruin Rafe’s Father’s funeral, cause Kurt’s ball-breaking girlfriend to dump him and get Desmond fired from his very lucrative career, the other three friends decide it’s time to get Barry a girlfriend to presumably get him out of their hair without disowning him outright, as most normal people would do in such a situation. And yes, I am aware that it is a movie, but when someone sticks gum on your Father’s casket, friendship be damned—someone has got to go.

After a series of bumbles and pointless subplots Barry meets Melanie (Lucy Punch), a woman just as physically disgusting and socially inept as he is. They of course hit it off and become a couple. But unlike the plan the other three friends had hatched, now the group has TWO “Barrys” to deal with! This leads to even crazier mishaps involving farting, feminine hygiene issues and pratfalls, clearly the staple of all great comedies. Then there are the expected ups and downs, break ups and get back togethers and everything else seen in countless attempts at humor such as this one. There is also the forced ending which is as unsatisfactory as the rest of this tasteless picture.

If there is a bright side to this movie it is the fact that Rob Pearlstein wrote and directed it (as previously mentioned), so there is really only one person to blame for this waste of an hour and a half. The actors are doing their best to make something passable out of something awful, but you can really only ask so much of people forced to deal with an unfortunate film that is nothing more than a series of stolen gags from the Forty Year Old Virgin (the speed dating bit), Seinfeld (the burnt down cabin, Kramer’s replay to “How Do You Do?”) and too many others to mention. The subplots are pointless and hopefully looked better on paper than they did in execution, and it seems as if the only people enjoying this film are the actors in it themselves, who despite their effort come off as so smug and self-aware that it (thankfully) distracts from the terrible dialog.

Simply put, don’t watch this movie. Sorry Barry.