Bruce Nolan (Jim Carrey), pushing 40 and marooned in a job as a TV reporter specializing in cutesy features, blows a gasket when he’s passed over for an anchor position in favor of smug Evan Baxter (Steven Carell). “God, why do you hate me?” he rails at the heavens after being sacked for his vulgar, anti-management diatribe, unfortunately telecast live.

God (a wonderfully relaxed Morgan Freeman) doesn’t hate Bruce, of course, but he’s really tired of his constant complaints that he sucks at his job. So, in a move that makes you wonder if the Big Guy is in possession of all his faculties, God endows Bruce with all his powers — on a limited basis — and lets him temporarily assume control of the Universe.

Bruce Almighty wouldn’t be any fun if Bruce started his upper-management career by curing world hunger and vanquishing AIDS. So that we get the script’s moral lesson, he’s got to show his human side by using his newly acquired gifts for personal gain. First to enhance his love life (in a charming nod to It’s a Wonderful Life, he lassos the moon to impress his girlfriend, Grace, played in walk-through fashion by Jennifer Aniston), then exact revenge on his tormentors (a stereotypical Latino gang and Baxter, whom he turns into a blubbering idiot on air in a truly hilarious scene, masterfully executed by Carell and Carrey). From there it’s a hop, skip and jump to instant notoriety as “Mr. Exclusive,” a field reporter who miraculously manages to be on the scene at the very moment major news breaks, earning him an offer from WKBW to return to the fold and replace the disgraced Baxter.

Despite a night of earth-shaking sex that leaves her with bigger breasts (as bad an idea as Bruce having a pee-happy canine), Grace quickly tires of the new, supposedly improved Bruce (he can’t tell her he’s God — that’s part of the deal) and walks out on him. As we learned in Diana Ross’ camp classic Mahogany, success is nothing without someone to share it with — even if you’re the newly crowned Ruler of Heaven and Earth.

Written by Steve Koren, Mark O’Keefe and Steve Oedekerk, all former sitcom writers, Bruce Almighty has a generous amount of funny moments (Bruce trying to outsmart God, dowsing cookie-loving kids with milk in slo-mo to the theme from Chariots of Fire), but none of them would work as well without Carrey. After the resounding thud of his stone-faced dramatic turn, 2001’s The Majestic, Carrey was smart to develop a vehicle that allows him to put on a straight face now and then (as he did to impressive effect in the telefilm Doing Time on Maple Drive), without overshadowing his funny side. Similarly, director Tom Shadayac (who teamed with Carrey on Ace Ventura: Pet Detective and Liar Liar) has brains enough to give the actor free reign, letting his considerable skills as a rubber-faced physical comedian run amuck. When you’re laughing, it’s easier to overlook the film’s numerous drawbacks, including its pro-religion agenda, clichéd white-on-white view of heaven (curiously, Bruce doesn’t seem to notice God is black), blatantly obvious overuse of the Universal backlot and half-baked ending.

You couldn’t drag me to Carrey’s The Cable Guy or The Grinch Who Stole Christmas, but I thought he earned every penny of his paychecks for The Mask and Liar Liar. With Bruce Almighty, he proves he’s very much still in the game, and worth the multi-million-dollar salary he commands. He’s this generation’s Jerry Lewis. And I mean that as a compliment. Mostly.

Bruce Almighty is currently playing citywide.

Kyle Counts is film critic for the Gay and Lesbian Times