TWO'S company, three's most definitely a crowd in You, Me And Dupree, a gently effervescent comedy about a couple of newlyweds, Carl and Molly Peterson (Matt Dillon, Kate Hudson), who invite down-on-his luck best man Randolph Dupree (Owen Wilson) into their home while he gets back on his feet and quickly live to regret it.

This simple act of kindness sets in motion a chain reaction of calamities; one outrageous misfortune follows another and soon, the lovebirds are questioning why they walked down the aisle.

Screenwriter Michael Sieur takes a traditional buddy comedy (two men re-evaluating their relationship now that a woman has come between them), and flecks it with slapstick and occasional toilet humour.

He wastes little time plunging his central trio into the midst of various overblown set pieces.

Unfortunately, Le Sieur is so eager to unleash Dupree's powers of destruction, he fails to set up the film convincingly.

Carl and Molly are financially comfortable and live in a spacious open plan home yet, apparently, they don't have a single spare room because they insist on making Dupree sleep on the settee (which he does, naked).

Nor do they have enough money to afford to put Dupree up in a hotel for a few nights.

Thus Wilson's well-meaning yet clumsy slacker has the run of the house, wreaking merry havoc including almost burning down the building and accidentally leaving his buddy's extensive pornography collection where Molly will find it.

To make matters worse, Molly's possessive father, real estate tycoon Mr Thompson (Michael Douglas), who is also Carl's boss, is also making his son-in-law's life a misery.

Mr Thompson gleefully bullies and undermines Carl in the workplace, hoping to break the younger man's resolve, waiting patiently for the day his daughter swaps her marriage certificate for divorce papers.

You, Me And Dupree is a huge disappointment. The characters are poorly defined and their story arcs predictable.

Consequently, directors Joe and Anthony Russo have to rely, far too heavily, on the natural likeability of the actors.

Wilson and Hudson undoubtedly have charm in abundance, and Dillon is an appealing straight man, but charisma fuels a film only so far.

In the case of You, Me And Dupree, that's barely past the first 20 minutes.

Screenwriter Le Sieur goes out of his way to make Dupree irresistibly loveable. The impish dude gets all misty-eyed watching the classic film Roman Holiday and laments, "There really aren't any more Audrey Hepburns out there, are there?"

When he suffers an eye-watering blow to his crotch, he refers affectionately to his injured parts as "my little Duprees". Cute.

Screen chemistry fizzes with Hudson, which is more than can be said for Dillon and his leading lady.

We're inclined to agree with Douglas' doting-yet-scheming father: his little girl married the wrong man.