Childhood friends Jonah Hill and Miles Teller — once, they were big shots at the Yeshiva together — reunite, looking to hit paydirt as “anti-war, pro-money” arms dealers for Uncle Sam. No matter how strong the setup, films such as this — two dunderheads strike it rich only to crash and burn — are only as good as the trajectory of their downward spiral. Hill has graduated from coked-out nebbish supreme in The Wolf of Wall Street to coked-out jagoff, the likes of which we haven’t seen since John C. Reilly’s lowbred Dean Ziegler in Cedar Rapids. Teller is equally up for the role of comic foil. But it’s no surprise that Todd Phillips (The Hangover I, II, and III) finds it hard to transition from raunchy comedy to raunchy drama. When it turns serious, the crime doesn’t fit the punishment that awaits an audience during the second half. Beware: the distribution of familiar prerecorded tunes to underscore the action doesn’t get much more uninspired. (2016) — Scott Marks
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