On the heels of their Oscar-winning No Country for Old Men, the Coen Brothers go in a completely different direction with Burn After Reading, a chortle-worthy farce set in and around Washington, D.C.

Last year's mordant masterpiece, adapted from Cormac McCarthy's novel, took place circa 1980 in the Texas borderlands and pitted a resourceful Vietnam vet (Josh Brolin) and a rueful Sheriff (Tommy Lee Jones) against a frighteningly creepy assassin (Javier Bardem). Though not without dark humor, its hallmark was a combination of mesmerizing western violence worthy of Sam Peckinpah and dusty eloquence worthy of Shakespeare.

Frontier mayhem and amorality have given way to beltway buffoonery and slapstick as Joel and Ethan Coen engineer a comic lark in which America's intelligence elite are confounded by two suburban dolts. The figures on screen come off looking a tad foolish, but the fun we viewers have at their expense is a gas. The lingering question is to what extent it rebounds on us.

At the outset, a satellite camera zeros in on CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia where bowtie-wearing, Princeton-educated analyst Osborne Cox (John Malkovich) is unceremoniously taken off the Balkan desk by inarticulate superiors. The only cause they give for the demotion is his "drinking problem." Osborne is incensed and quits altogether.

At their townhouse in leafy Georgetown, Osborne's sour-faced wife Katie (Tilda Swinton) scolds him for not picking up cheese for the soiree they're hosting that evening and he drowns his sorrows. Katie is having an affair with a married federal marshal named Harry Pfarrer (played by George Clooney), who attends the party and who, we later learn, considers Osborne an officious boob.

Assuming Harry will leave his wife, a successful children's author, Katie meets with a lawyer and preps for dissolving the marriage on advantageous terms by copying Osborne's financial records. Harry's predilection for adultery will link him to what transpires in a second way.

Meet Linda Litzke, a middle-aged lonely heart played by Frances McDormand who is determined to undergo four cosmetic surgery procedures that will revitalize her sagging romantic fortunes. Feisty but dim, Linda works at a Hardbodies Fitness Center in suburban Washington. Her closest confidante is dorky trainer Chad Feldheimer (Brad Pitt), an even dimmer bulb yet Linda's equal when it comes to positive energy. Ubiquitous character actor Richard Jenkins plays their mild-mannered boss, a former Greek Orthodox priest who loves Linda but is too timid to declare his affection.

A computer disk containing the information Katie swiped from her husband is discovered on the floor of the ladies locker room at Hardbodies. Chad is convinced it contains valuable state secrets and Linda sees it as a way to raise the money for her elective plastic surgery. After trying to extort an irate Osborne, the dopey duo takes the disc to the Russian embassy.

Lothario Harry gets caught up in their lame-brained scheme because he and Linda have hooked-up in the meantime via an internet dating service. As the manically madcap events unfold, the CIA -- always two steps behind -- tries to figure out what exactly is going on and end up sweeping the pieces they discover under the rug.

Most anything would seem light when compared to No Country for Old Men and Burn After Reading is indeed slight and slightly underdeveloped. It ends abruptly without allowing the juicier confrontations and eventualities to occur. Gallows humor and the Coens' trademark violent streak are in evidence, along with a few off-the-wall moments. While any depth comes from how they lampoon America's bumbling security services, and thus skewer the powers that be, no one is immune from their mockery.

Everyone is ridiculous and desperate, and the characters are mainly distinguished by how outwardly they manifest their desperateness and by how their intellects try to mask their emotional immaturity and befuddlement. The audience is complicit and our enjoyment stems from watching the A-list ensemble behave in a shamelessly goofy manner. Even as we respond, however, there's the nagging suspicion we're being tricked into laughing at our own idiocy.

(Released by Focus Features and rated "R" for pervasive language, some sexual content, and violence.)

Listen to John P. McCarthy discuss this film on Movie Addict Headquarters by clicking here.