Hey amigos. Three hi-larious films (or ‘motion pictures,’ as they’re sometimes called) are on Showcase this weekend:

Friday, Dec. 2, 10pm & 3am – Funny People
Saturday, Dec 3, 1am & 10pm – Old School
Saturday, Dec 3, 12pm, 4:30pm, 12am – Wedding Crashers

Funny People
The cast: Adam Sandler, Seth Rogen, and the Optimus Prime of awesome Aussies: Mr. Eric Bana.
The Showcase synopsis: “When seasoned comedian George Simmons learns of his terminal, inoperable health condition, his desire to form a genuine friendship causes him to take a relatively green performer under his wing as his opening act.”

Old School
The cast: Will Ferrell, Luke Wilson, Vince Vaughn, and Jeremy Piven.
The Showcase synopsis: “A trio of thirty-something buddies try to recapture the outrageous, irrepressible fun of their college years by starting their own off-campus frat house.”

Wedding Crashers
The cast: Owen Wilson, Vince Vaughn, and Rachel McAdams.
The Showcase synopsis: “A pair of committed womanizers who sneak into weddings to take advantage of the romantic tinge in the air, find themselves at odds with one another when things go awry.”

If you’ve spotted a theme running through these flicks (or ‘movies,’ as they’re sometimes called), you’re not crazy. Or maybe you are crazy, but you’re also good at spotting themes. Either way, kudos for your detective work, my sane or not-so-sane friend. These are bro comedies.

                               Some bro was bro enough to put this in the dictionary.

Yep, the bro comedy is a genre unto itself. And distilling the concept to its essence is relatively simple (bros aren’t big on complexity, bro). Here’s the description:

Bros making comedies about bros for bros (and for folks who are honorary bros, e.g. bro-friendly chicks).

Bro comedies chronicle the adventures of bros (charming slackers, not-so-charming screw-ups, anxious straight-men) as they make the rite of passage from one stage of bro existence to another. Youth into adulthood. Singlehood into marriage. Immature adulthood into less-immature adulthood.

                                           Less common: Wayans into white chicks.

One thing’s for certain: the characters always take this unexpected journey together, because that’s what bros do, bro. The emotional stakes? Not hugely high. The physical stakes (pain, anger, embarrassment)? Very high, bro. Very high.

Does this very precisely exactly describe the three films Showcase is uh, showcasing this weekend? You bet your body spray it does. I studied film in university, so I know of which I speak. (*)

• (*) Although given the school I went to, my knowledge has certain limitations.   

                        “Film courses offered alternate years. Limited enrollment of 20 students.
                                      Are you sure you wouldn’t rather just order Netflix?”
  

Other bro comedies of bro-note: Porky’s, The Hangover, Animal House, Pineapple Express, Slap Shot, the American Pie flicks, and that one with Jason Batemen and Ryan Reynolds that came out a few months ago where they swap bodies and bang each others’ girlfriends or some such thing. You know the one. Unforgettable.

By definition, bro flicks are the antithesis of chick flicks. How? Well, a chick flick is typically character based, soft concept (read: not too much action), and emotionally powerful. Crying will be on the menu, as will introspection and additional crying based on the introspection generated from the original bout of crying.

We’re talking your Fried Green Tomatoes, your Beaches, your Steel Magnolias and White Oleanderseseses. Travelling pants may be involved, ditto Ya-Ya Sisterhoods and attractive middle-aged women getting their grove back. And weddings. Dear God how there will be weddings.

                                        Also, Cameron Diaz will shave her head.
                                           You know, for empowerment’s sake.

Not that I have anything against chick flicks. I’ve tolerated Nora Ephron films as much as the next guy held captive on an eight-hour transatlantic flight with zero other viewing options except the inflight magazine or the inside of his eyelids.

                   Well, except this. This aberration is between you and your god, Nora.

But at the end of the day, the bro comedy tends to win out for me. It demands less, it keeps the waterworks in check, and it doesn’t judge me for viewing it while wolfing down year-old Cap’n Crunch in my flannel bottoms and stained Led Zeppelin t-shirt.

Bro comedy, you are a true bro. Bromo arigato, Mr. Brobato.