Avis Metacritic

With its clever premise and quartet of appealing comedic star turns, Wild Hogs is a step above the typical comedies rolling off the assembly lines of the major studios.

Given his writer-producer credits on good-to-great recent sitcoms ("My Name Is Earl," "Arrested Development," "Grounded for Life"), one might expect more situational wit, or at least some snappy patter, from Brian Copeland's first bigscreen script. Instead, the humor rests primarily on slapstick wipeouts that have no physical consequence.

Jokes dying on the lips of these easy riders are hard to stomach.

While each actor is talented in his own right, the on-screen friends' relationship is barely developed.

Nothing about this sputtering midlife-crisis family comedy is natural except the timeless notion that even the most latte-tamed baby boomer has the power to reclaim his inner Iron John. Ray Liotta provides the one true blast of comedic energy as the leader of a real, more pugnacious head-butting gang who tangles with the four amigos.

This shallow comedy imagines itself as an amalgam of "St. Elmo's Fire," "The Wild Bunch," and "Deliverance."

With his doughy face and oversized features, Travolta seems like a giant puppet these days. The lanky stud from "Urban Cowboy" or even the cool killer from "Pulp Fiction" are hazy memories amidst his over-the-top performance from the school of freak-out acting.

The movie never rises to the level of the professional, much less the comic. The gags are witless and surprisingly gross. The four actors, each accustomed to being at the center, never develop any rhythm, any chemistry, any anything.

Macy's character finds romance with the Madrid, N. M., diner owner played by Marisa Tomei. They're the only two people on screen who relate in any way. But there's no movie here. There is only a tired "City Slickers"-inspired idea for a movie.

The subculture of weekend warrior bikers is such rich comic material that the ineptitude of Wild Hogs is doubly offensive.