Wanderlust stars Jennifer Anniston and Paul Rudd, with Jennifer’s new beau, Justin Theroux, also making an appearance in it. The idea is that Jennifer and Paul are New York yuppies who decide to buy a house in Greenwich Village that they call a mini-loft, which is really an efficiency apartment, which means a studio apartment, and then he loses his job, and it turns out that her income for the previous year was $800 because she pitches a documentary to HBO about a penguin with testicular cancer. Are you laughing yet? Well, this is supposed to be incredibly hilarious. So, they go off to visit his brother in Atlanta, and on the way they have a car accident and end up at a hippie commune, which I don’t even know exist anymore, and it seems like some throwback to something. The first person they run into is a nudist, and they have such a great time there and they feel like they’ve been liberated, so then they go off to the brother, who is this thug of all times with a wife who is catatonic and depressed, and it turns out that he owns a company that makes port-a-johnnies — are you laughing yet? — and gives his brother an entry level position. So, they go back to the commune and this has to do with incredibly crude sex jokes. This was executive produced by Judd Apatow who has single handedly lowered the bar for any kind of comedy. The problem is that there’s nobody in this movie to like. It’s sort of frat boy ’80s humor. The plot is essentially what I told you. It’ll probably be the number one movie, but does it deserve more than one star? No, siree, Bob. So one star is all it gets. You sort of wonder why somebody bothered, and the answer I suppose is money. One star.