There are some films that are hardly worth the trouble of watching: once you've got the central concept, you can pretty much run the movie in your head.

Mere words, mere permutations of 26 paltry letters, are an inadequate resource for explaining how fatuous, unfunny, and profoundly un-entertaining it is to watch Marlon Wayans doing a goo-goo-ga fake-baby routine.

It's a concept, not a movie.

This film ultimately resorts to the tried-and-tested hit to the groin -- not once, but EIGHT times.