Better than Blades of Glory, which wasn’t nearly as good as Talladega Nights, which was a little better than Anchorman, which was almost as funny as Old School, which was better than everything else Will Ferrell had done up to that point. This is what it’s come down to with Ferrell: grading his movies in various shades of enh as each one blends into the next till they’re all one giant gray blob of feh. Which sells short the semi-funny Semi-Pro—essentially Major League clad in 1970s short-shorts and topped with a few ‘fros for fun, as Ferrell’s washed-up one-hit blunder tries to get his woeful Flint Tropics into the NBA before the ABA vanishes out of existence. Still, you’ve seen one Will Ferrell sports comedy, you’re good. What distinguishes this one from the others: great characters, among them Woody Harrelson’s washed-up vet seeking redemption and romance, André Benjamin’s blustering baller with NBA aspirations, and Andrew Daly’s play-by-play man. Funny in spots, but the game’s four quarters—or two too many.