If there’s a key problem to the film Soul Men, it’s the tone. Not only is it apparently confused as to what type of comedy it’s trying to be, but the twin deaths of stars Bernie Mac and Isaac Hayes hang like a light fog over the entire endeavour. If it weren’t for the passing of Mac and Hayes then Soul Men might have gone by like a supersonic jet, as in barely registering and by the time you take a closer look, it’s gone. Its heart is certainly in the right place, and the combination of Mac with Samuel L. Jackson is indeed a potent one, but in the final analysis the film is stretched far too thinly to suit me.

The story is about crooners Louis Hinds (Jackson) and Floyd Henderson (Mac), who are reunited 20 years after they parted ways over a woman. Louis and Floyd were back-up singers for Marcus Hooks (John Legend) before his solo success left them out in the cold as a convicted felon and successful car wash proprietor respectively. When Hooks dies suddenly, an impromptu tribute concert is arranged at the Apollo Theatre in New York, and Louis and Floyd are called upon to put aside their animosity to pay tribute at the show. And thus begins the perfunctory road trip portion of the film, as the two singers bicker and snipe their way across country.

It’s a pretty standard set-up that only ever manages to illicit any reaction because of the titanic talents of the two main stars. There’s no denying Jackson and Mac’s timing and comedic chemistry, even if the script plays like Grumpy Old Men meets The Blues Brothers with 200 per cent more attitude. But whenever the movie moves away from the delightful, profanity laden back and forth between Mac and Jackson, what we get is the playbook of Wayans Brothers’ film stereotypes. And that’s up to and including the ignorant, gangsta rapper wannabe that’s inexplicably tied to Cleo, who might be the daughter of either Louis or Floyd.

Which segues into another minor difficulty with the film, this entire ripped-from-Lifetime subplot about who Cleo’s father is. Oh, and she’s this amazing singer stuck in a relationship with rapping hack Lester (Affion Crockett), who abuses her. Now I get wanting to add some figurative punch to your script, but during this reveal it was like our brazen little comedic amalgam just went all Law & Order: SVU on us. Bottom line, it’s not at all what I was expecting in terms of story development, and for a second it just takes you completely out of the picture. Plus, it sucks all potential of Lester being turned into a comic foil because you know Elliot Stabler should be getting out a squad car and beating him down with morally ambiguous overtones.

But despite the schizophrenic tone, Soul Men still manages to find a way to wrap things up in a tight little bundle marked “pre-packaged Hollywood ending.” That leaves out of course that two of the main guys in it didn’t live to see the final cut, although they do receive tribute over the end credits. Hayes gets a short-shrift because it’s basically a glorified cameo. Fortunately for Mac though he gets to display something resembling a character and as flippant and flamboyant as he usual was in his films. Unfortunately though, the true laughs are few and far between. As a time capsule in honour of two fine talents, Soul Men fails to meet even historic merit.