Early in 17 Again, sad sack Mike O’Donnell (played by sad sack Matthew Perry) finds himself longing for the glory days of high school. Sooner than you can say “high concept magic realism,” he’s been transformed into an adolescent version of himself (Zac Efron). “Have you recently been exposed to gamma rays?,” asks one disbelieving pal, though there aren’t enough gamma rays in the whole Marvel Universe to make me believe that Zac Efron could share genetic material with Matthew Perry.

Bad casting is hardly the only thing wrong with Igby Goes Down director (and Pulp Fiction alum) Burr Steers’ film, which ends up an unholy hybrid of two canonical comedy tropes: body-switching farce à la Big (with Efron gamely doing his best impression of Chandler from Friends) and Back to the Future­-style Oedipal-screwballery (Mike’s daughter, played by Michelle Trachtenberg, obliviously yearns to jump her daddy’s bones).

In addition to not being funny, 17 Again traffics in limply superfluous misogyny (“disrespect me” coos one cutie to Mike, who mutters something about her lack of self-esteem being some other dad’s

problem) and showcases what might generously be described as confused attitudes towards teen sexuality. Middle-aged Mike’s misery is framed as a symptom of his having gotten his wife (Leslie Mann) pregnant before graduation, and he lectures a health class on the moral virtues of abstinence — right before using his big-man-on-campus status to get his son hooked up with the head cheerleader. Ah, double standards.