The newly minted “bromance” genre, with its now-familiar mix of the sweet, awkward and raunchy, has entered the cultural consciousness through comedies like Superbad, Pineapple Express and Role Models.

But it reaches its zenith with I Love You, Man, starring Paul Rudd and Jason Segel as completely different guys who form an unlikely friendship.

Rudd’s Peter Klaven, a sensitive Los Angeles real estate agent who’s about to get married, realizes he has no male pals when it’s time to choose a best man. He’d rather make root beer floats for his fiancée Zooey (the lovely Rashida Jones) and her girlfriends or cuddle with her on the couch for Sunday-night HBO viewing.

Segel’s Sydney Fife enters his life as the most charming force of nature, inspiring Peter to jam along to Rush tunes and tap into his inner rage. He lives in a ramshackle Venice bungalow and functions by his own set of rules, which includes wooing divorcees at open houses and refusing to pick up after his puggle because he thinks dog feces are a healthy part of the environment. Segel gives the character a well-intentioned puppy-doggishness of his own, though, which makes him unexpectedly likable.

The formula is pretty predictable from director John Hamburg (Along Came Polly), who co-wrote the script with Larry Levin, as well as the conflict that inevitably arises when Zooey questions their closeness. But the beauty of it lies both in the details of the relationship and the larger chemistry Rudd and Segel share. Clearly the two ad-libbed a lot of their lines, including a running gag in which Peter is incapable of saying goodbye or getting off the phone gracefully: “I will see you then or I will see you on another time,” for example. When the DVD comes out, there will probably be an entire second disc of the stars just riffing.

But beyond the goofy comedy, this is a bold concept to explore in a movie that’s so obviously intended for the mainstream and for teens and 20-something men in particular. I Love You, Man dares to get to the heart of intimate male friendships – or even, as the title suggests, love – the kind of thing most guys don’t exactly feel comfortable discussing. There’s an earnestness that’s refreshing, and a relatable quality to Peter’s vulnerability as he struggles to say the cool thing or give Sydney a spontaneous nickname. He could have come off as pathetic; instead, Rudd is so capable both with his comic timing and his subtlety, he makes us root for Peter instead.

We’re onto something true and honest here, which is why it’s so disappointing to see the film repeatedly cater to the lowest common denominator with vomit and flatulence jokes. It also squanders the talents of veterans Jane Curtin and J.K. Simmons in barely there supporting parts as Peter’s parents. Jon Favreau and Jamie Pressly also co-star as a longtime couple who bicker incessantly. (It is fun, though, to see Favreau play the arrogant jerk for a change and not the needy mensch.)

I Love You, Man didn’t need all that obvious, crass stuff. Its sensitive side was far more attractive.

I Love You, Man, a DreamWorks Pictures release, runs 105 minutes. Three stars out of four.

No amount of psychological manipulation from John Malkovich can make us believe the lightweight comedy The Great Buck Howard is nearly as poignant or profound as it aspires to be.

Malkovich completely goes for it here as the film’s titular mentalist – don’t call him a magician – a role that allows him to luxuriate in his off-kilter, theatrical diva persona. (The character was inspired by The Amazing Kreskin.) But it’s in service to a rather facile, softhearted satire about this business we call show.

Long past his prime, Buck still regales anyone who will listen with tales of appearing on The Tonight Show Starring Johnny Carson (61 times!)– even though these days he’s performing feats for half-empty auditoriums in Bakersfield, Calif., and Akron, Ohio. Regardless of the city, he arrives with the hearty proclamation, “I love this town!” and an even more enthusiastic handshake, a repeated gag that isn’t particularly funny the first time.

He’s got the spiel down to a science, but he needs a new road manager and personal assistant. Law school dropout Troy Gable (Colin Hanks) answers his ad in hope of gaining the life experience he needs to become a writer and gets swept up in Buck’s sad, kitschy vortex.

Writer-director Sean McGinly relies too heavily on voiceover from Hanks to make observations that should be pretty obvious: “He was cheesy and there was no denying that, but he also had a sort of timeless charm that the audience really seemed to love.” Hanks continues to establish an agreeable on-screen presence reminiscent of his father, Tom – and the elder Hanks, a producer here, appears in a couple of scenes as Troy’s disapproving father. They look and sound so much alike, seeing them play opposite each other is just eerie – but also kinda cute.

The younger Hanks is a reliable straight-man foil for the outlandish Malkovich, who gets persnickety about how much to tip the bellman and whether to give fans autographed photos in color or black and white. But Troy isn’t fleshed out terribly well, despite appearing in just about every scene. It’s as if he exists exclusively to serve as an empty vessel, an astonished set of eyes and ears, ingesting everything as he and Buck travel from town to town.

And here’s where McGinly’s script condescends to small-town America, rather than affectionately teasing it. The people who greet Buck and Troy at each destination are overfed, twangy or both – especially Debra Monk and Steve Zahn as the siblings who host them in Cincinnati. (She’s a member of the Red Hat Society; he wears a bushy mustache and a bolo tie.)

Things perk up when Emily Blunt arrives as a no-nonsense publicist assigned to help Buck promote an ambitious new trick in Cincinnati, “a very important event,” as he describes it. But when Buck pulls off the feat, jaunty music overwhelms the moment, which might have seemed genuinely creepy otherwise.

We wouldn’t dream of giving away his secret, though. Because you need some mystery in a movie that otherwise bangs you over the head with platitudes about the transformative power of believing in something impossible.

The Great Buck Howard, a Magnolia Pictures release, runs 87 minutes. Two stars out of four.