Two Stars

"Wild Hogs" is a biker picture for males of a different era. It's not so much trying to be "Easy Rider" as it is "Wheezy Rider."

The cyclists in this film are middle-aged guys from the suburbs of Cincinnati, not some outlaw biker gang. But like any biker bad boys, these guys have issues -- sort of.

Doug Madsen (Tim Allen) is a 50-something dentist whose cholesterol is as bad as his life is mundane. His son sees Doug as something of a wimp, while his wife dotes on Doug's insecurities.

Doug's college buddy, Woody Stevens (John Travolta), is a multi-million-dollar marketing executive who is the envy of all his friends because of his financial success and his swimsuit-model trophy wife.

Unfortunately, Woody hasn't gotten around to telling anyone that his business has gone belly up and his wife is in the process of divorcing him.

Bobby Davis (Martin Lawrence) is a former plumber who has taken a sabbatical from his job to write a book. His efforts at writing are mired in writer's block, while his ego is under constant assault from the shrew he has married.

Then there's Dudley Frank (William H. Macy), a computer programmer and metrosexual wanna-be. His attempts at sophistication around women either come off as nerdiness or catastrophic disasters.

The only things these four guys seem to have in common is their friendship with each other and a desire to play weekend warriors, riding their Harleys around the streets of Cincinnati.

Commiserating about their lots in life, the guys have an epiphany and decide to hit the road, riding until they hit the Pacific Ocean.

In the '60s, this was called "finding America." For the "Wild Hogs," it's meant to be a journey to find themselves.

Their resulting comic misadventure eventually leads them into a bar filled with a real outlaw biker gang called the Del Fuegos. And their leader, Jack (Ray Liotta), doesn't take kindly to suburbanites pretending to be something they are not.

The same thing could be said about this movie -- it's pretending to be something it isn't, either. "Wild Hogs" would like to be a "City Slickers" set on Harleys instead of horseback. The problem is that Brad Copeland's script is a one-trick pony that's short on wit and depth.

While the four leads are all very likable guys, these actors aren't really given anything in the way of characters to develop. They're all just superficial archetypes (a nerd, a dentist, an executive and a plumber) whose characters generate more questions than the film answers.

How did these guys become friends? What relationships do they have with each other now? It's immaterial to Copeland.

What's of greater consequence is the film's insistence on generating humor from gay jokes. A running gag involving John C. McGinley as a gay motorcycle cop isn't so much funny as it is discomforting -- for the actors as well as the audience.

Copeland also makes allusions to other films, such as "St. Elmo's Fire," "The Wild Bunch" and "Deliverance," the significance of which may be lost on most audiences. Just as the "in" joke casting of Jack's father may only be appreciated by filmgoers of a certain generation.

Of course, there also tare he requisite jokes involving bodily functions, blows to the crotch and slapstick-oriented pratfalls. Hardly the stuff of high art or even family comedies, but then again, this film is titled "Wild Hogs."

Slop is a natural playground for such animals.