You can really see Adam Devine going for the Jack Lemmon vibes in his latest vehicle, “The Out-Laws.” As Owen Browning, a tidy but slightly schlubby suburban Everyman with an impending wedding, he meets adversity with a broad grin and an implied ambition to ingratiate himself to the whole world. So a superficial Jack Lemmon vibe — except Jack Lemmon never twerked in boxer shorts. Not that he necessarily would have considered it beneath him.
In theory, Devine should be funny: He’s talented and game and has a decent supply of goofy shtick. This critic’s experience of his work, however, including the surprisingly bland “Mike and Dave Need Wedding Dates” (2016) and the nearly unspeakable “Game Over, Man!” (2018) — like this production, also a Netflix picture — has been almost disturbingly laugh-free. Until now. “The Out-Laws,” directed by Tyler Spindel, is a slight comedy, but it’s also raucous and kickily violent, with several laugh-in-spite-of-your-better-judgment bits.
The hook is that Owen’s future in-laws, up until recently off the grid, are possibly the notorious criminals who rob the bank Owen manages shortly after they blow into town. The question doesn’t remain open for long. Pierce Brosnan and Ellen Barkin play the parental units with unabashed, even unhinged, broadness, against which Devine’s haplessness really sings. Richard Kind and Julie Hagerty go to town as Owen’s brash parents. The comedic virtuosi Laci Mosley and Lil Rel Howery play Owen’s bank colleagues, and the early scene where they frankly admit that they initially thought Owen’s fiancée was imaginary is rich. (She’s not imaginary; Nina Dobrev plays her, and she’s fine in the movie’s most plain part.) In fairness to Devine, the watchability is not just the result of his being surrounded by a cast of aces; he genuinely commits to and sells his bit here.
The Out-Laws
Rated R for violence and salty language, complete with almost endless sexual innuendo. Running time: 1 hour 35 minutes. Watch on Netflix.
Glenn Kenny
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