Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins is the latest in a long line of movies people are bound to let slide because they mean well. Films like this, Bratz, and everything with Tyler Perry's name on it try to do nothing more than entertain folks for a couple of hours while doling out out a tidy moral lesson or two. Unfortunately, the films in question remain blissfully ignorant of how painfully simplistic and grotesquely over-the-top they've become in the process. Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins isn't simply a bad movie, it's a downright offensive one, and the fact that not many people seem to be noticing this is more than a little frightening to me.

Martin Lawrence stars as the eponymous character, a country kid who's made quite a life for himself in the big city. Trading in the "Roscoe Jenkins" moniker for the more accessible "R.J. Stevens," our protagonist has landed himself not only a hit talk show but also a beautiful Survivor-winning girlfriend (Joy Bryant). But after being away from his close-knit clan for several years, Roscoe can't help giving in and hauling  his son (Damani Roberts) and gal pal down to Georgia to celebrate his parents' (James Earl Jones and Margaret Avery) 50th wedding anniversary.

Roscoe has hardly been back home for five minutes before the past comes crashing down on him in a big way, in the form of not just a childhood crush (Nicole Ari Parker) he still sort of has a thing for but also his ultra-competitive cousin Clyde (Cedric the Entertainer). As Roscoe gets back into the swing of trying to one-up Clyde and impress his long-lost sweetie at every turn, more and more he loses sight of setting an example for his son and being the best father he can be.

Possibly the most irritating aspect of Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins is its belief that the louder one screams, the funnier a joke will be. However, although there's plenty of sneering, cackling, and all-in-all celebrating someone else's misery to go around here, not for one single, solitary moment did I think this movie was funny. All Roscoe Jenkins wants to be is a heartwarming family comedy with a few bawdy jokes along the way, but it failed miserably in providing me with even the tiniest hints of enjoyment. It's too busy showing one-third of the cast members engaging in moronic slapstick, another third mugging for the camera like they were being paid by the second, and the other third sitting back and looking at Martin Lawrence doing both of those unfunny things. Yes, there's an honorable story to be told here, but it's so buried underneath writer/director Malcolm D. Lee's sheer desperation to do anything for a laugh, it comes across with next to no effect.

The bulk of the cast should've known better than to sign on for such a stinker. Still, I'm not surprised to see Lawrence roped into playing the conductor of this cinematic train wreck, as he's made a habit of squandering his talents in such bombs as Black Knight, Rebound, and Big Momma's House 2. The same goes for Mike Epps. His nails-on-a-chalkboard performance in this movie is only topped by that of Mo'Nique, who's also incredibly awful and grating here. I can't help wondering how much Michael Clarke Duncan got paid to play Roscoe's beefcake brother, but at least James Earl Jones gives the movie's sole redeeming performance, one that rings with a sort of nobility eluding the rest of the picture. 

It's sad to look back and realize that Ray, a passionate and soulful portrait of an African-American icon, had to fight to get made, whereas something so mercilessly stereotypical as Welcome Home Roscoe Jenkins received next to a free ride. While Ray helps keep Ray Charles' spirit and music alive and well for a whole new generation, Roscoe Jenkins only serves to allow its simple-minded, one-note humor to thrive another day.

MY RATING: * (out of ****)

(Released by Universal Pictures and rated "PG-13" for crude and sexual content, language and some drug references.)