What makes Lost in Rio more entertaining than it should be is the few elements of misappropriated nostalgia that rise above the rest of the film's lunk-headed posturing thanks to good comic timing.

All this is mighty silly, but there's something to be said for watching a French movie that, for a change, isn't about l'amour, existential angst, or madness.

The tenor, tone and immaculately lampooned art direction often make up for shtick that gradually grows thin in the belly-laugh department.

OSS 117: Lost in Rio is superior to its predecessor, and we’ll take our blessings where we can find them.