Yes Man is just the sort of broad appeal comedy that I think a lot of us assumed Jim Carrey had grown beyond, especially when they ineffectively duplicate past successes. In this film, Carrey revisits ghosts of zany, face-contorting antics past by playing Carl, an emotional automaton that refuses bank loans by day and sits around and watches videos by night though his friends persistently try and get him out and about. A simple motivational seminar later and Carl finds himself driven to say “Yes” to every opportunity, possibility and query asked of him. Through Carl’s example we learn that life is only well lived if approached with a reckless acceptance of opportunity without consideration.

Now the film is good vehicle for Carrey, but it’s Carrey circa 1999 when he was the first and final word in slapstick buffoonery. A decade later though, one can’t help but feel that this was a safety for a man looking to relive past glories following a couple of questionable manoeuvres through dark comedy (Number 23) and morality plays (Fun with Dick and Jane, a message film about being careful about what you attach your name to). There are a few good laughs, and the film is generally winning, but along the edges things seem worn and tired and just generally tiresome.

Individual scenes and characters work well. We’re treated to about 15 minutes of Carrey doing 1001 ways to mockingly say “No” to even the most basic of propositions, like finding ways to avoid going out for drinks with his supposed friends. Then we meet the always hilarious John Michael Higgins as Nick, who in a serious jolt of manic comic energy, introduces Carl to the philosophy of Terrence Bundley. Bundley is played by Terence Stamp, who with his blustery, British accent and the commanding tone made famous by General Zod, almost literally commands Carl to follow his “Yes” reflex.

Some of these opportunities lead to interesting places, like a chance meeting with vivacious Allison (Zooey Deschanel) after Carl runs out of gas driving a homeless guy to an isolated park while draining his cell phone battery. Mostly though, it leads to overly dull and predictable places like learning to bungee jump or throwing his best bud’s fiancée a bridal shower. But it can also lead to disturbing places, like when Carl accepts fellatio from his elderly neighbour as reward for putting up some shelves. Yikes. And you know why? Because if Carl doesn’t say “Yes” to chance, than something bad happens to him.

And there in lies the problem: are we really to believe that someone of any relative intelligence would just give themselves over to the philosophy of whack job. Say Yes to everything? Did the writers every think of the preposterousness of this conceit? Apparently, it’s based on a book about the actual experiences of a UK reporter that had to say “Yes” to everything, but the whole thing still seems messed up as a foundation to build a film on. My mind kept reeling to the absurd possibilities. What if someone said, “Want to rob a bank?” “Want to help me kill that guy?” “Want me to feed you rat poison by the spoonful?”

Sure, that stuff’s a little improbable, but considering that the rest of the film merely explores chances like: going to the rock show, or learning Korean, or going to your boss’ ridiculous Harry Potter costume party, going to the extreme might have been refreshing. (Not even Rhys Darby of Flight of the Conchords could save that stuff.) Besides, a lot of the gags that are here don’t really pay off. Like the whole mail order Persian wife set-up, nothing really became of that. Nope, the film plays out predictably with Allison finding out that Carl’s a bore on a program of unmitigated insanity and Carl finds out that saying “Yes” to everything is only really a kind of metaphor, leading to a tertiary revelation that life is balance.

Well, I can’t speak for everyone else, but I certainly walked away from this film with a greater understanding and appreciation fro my own life, which of course is sarcasm. Anyone thinking of saying “Yes” to Yes Man is welcome to do so, like I said, there are some funny parts, some hints of classic Carrey, but really the whole thing is carried on the how much you can quell the part of your brain that says this very conceit is ridiculous. Would I like to see it again? Sorry, No. Do I wish that I had stayed home and watched Liar, Liar again? I think you know the answer.