There’s no shortage of nudity here (hence its original NC-17 rating), but Kevin Smith’s new slacker comedy, Zach and Miri Make a Porno, is more of a BFF romance than a sexercise in smut production.

Oh, Kevin Smith, where art thou?

After catapulting to slacker apotheosis through his indie vehicle, Clerks, almost 15 years ago, Mr. Smith has been wandering the celluloid wastelands of Hollywood, attempting to re-discover The Promised Land of New Jersey and the Archangels of 7-Eleven Heaven in every film he has written or directed since.

He has survived mediocrity (Clerks II), farcical retrospection (Jay and Silent Bob Strike Back), gross-out buddy-bonding (Mallrats), the Bennifer massacre (Jersey Girl), metaphysics (Dogma), and once in awhile, he has even been known to conjure up small miracles (Chasing Amy). And with Zack and Miri Make a Porno, Prophet Smith once again presents his version of Canaan; where the milk is a wee bit curdled, and the honey is asking for a larger tip or she’ll call her pimp.

Zack and Miri are best friends, roommates, and platonic. Down on their luck, they decide to write, direct, and star in their own pornographic film to help them alleviate their financial problems. To this end, they gather a motley array of people willing to lend their time, money, talents, and genitals for a good cause. The fact that Zack and Miri actually have to have sex together for the first time is the catalyst that not only tests their friendship, but also challenges them to inspect it further for evidence of deeper feelings.

Let’s get two things straight: One, this is a stupid premise—the kind of plotline that high school boys fantasize about while jerking off under their World of Warcraft blankets at night. Two, Kevin Smith has made a solid career out of taking stupid premises and crafting them into highly viewable fare.

All the signature Smith elements are intact in this film. The dialogue has enough profanity to float an ark. The situational comedy borders on the disgusting and way beyond the irreverent. And, of course, the cast is all familiar and welcome, like a favorite uncle who always gets drunk at family reunions and pukes in the punch bowl—crass, crude, and inevitably entertaining.

It is the cast, of course, that keeps the film from tumbling into the graveyard of blasé, overdone, sex-comedy ineptitude. Seth Rogen, as Zack, is the unlikely anti-hero who has taken over the throne recently inhabited by Will Ferrell as Hollywood’s favorite man-child. Riding high on the crest of Judd Apatow-infused success, Rogen doesn’t flex any dramatic muscles for Zack and Miri, basically rehashing the formula of a dude who is supremely likable because of his social shortcomings. Elizabeth Banks is quickly evolving into one of the most versatile and wanted actresses around (check her out as Laura Bush in Oliver Stone’s W), and her portrayal of Miri provides the sentimental and feminine side of a predominantly testosterone-fueled film. The other actors are either veterans of Kevin Smith’s films or actual legends of porn—both boons for the stalwart disciples of Smith. A cameo by Justin Long (the Mac guy) as a gay-porn actor threatens to steal the show as well.

As stated earlier, this is as lame a plot as you can get, the type of script that never gets past an initial reading by some intern in the production houses. Except, of course, if the name on the front page is Kevin Smith, or if the actors willing to debase themselves for said writer-director are two of the hottest talents in Hollywood right now. In which case it will get made, and it will be shown, and some people will really like it. But if the movie is about people trying to make a porno, I suppose it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if it blows a little.