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For those who’ve never come to terms with the unlikely but all-pervasive genre of the gross-out romantic comedy, here’s a warning: The plot of Adam & Steve turns on the Hershey squirts. If you can get past the affliction’s first mention—and demonstration—however, this film by star, writer, and director Craig Chester is a rather funny and nearly cliché-free depiction of a couple’s disastrous first date and accidental reunion 17 years later. Neither Adam (Chester) nor Steve (Malcolm Gets) recognizes the other from their coke-fueled tryst in the ’80s, and they therefore develop their chance meeting into a blissful relationship despite the scars that both bear from the earlier experience. Adam, originally a goth who’d never done drugs before, is now living an eyeliner-free life that includes AA meetings, a dog, and a longtime best friend, Rhonda (Parker Posey). Steve, originally a feather-haired dancer, is now a mysophobic psychiatrist who lives with a straight roommate, Michael (Chris Kattan), and prefers the occasional anonymous gym-shower rendezvous to a boyfriend. (Yeah, it seems contradictory, but he scrubs ’em up before the action begins.) OK, so there is a cliché or three here—and the presence of a small-time former SNL-er doesn’t bode well. But Chester knows his way around a joke, Posey and Kattan each do their best work in a while with characters who are quirky but not obnoxious, and running gags such as the ample evidence supporting Adam’s early claim that public displays of affection have only gotten him yelled at and assaulted with beer bottles add touches of physical comedy without descending into sitcom wackiness. (Though poor Julie Hagerty, late of She’s the Man and Just Friends, plays another humiliating character here as Adam’s “cursed” mom.) The dialogue is often (old-school) Simpsons-esque—“You’re an asshole! And a baby! You’re an asshole that’s also a baby!”—and the love story itself is sweet and, when it all comes down to it, commonplace enough to be believable. Unless, of course, you count the breakup dance-off at a C&W bar, the Sound of Music–aided peace offering, and, well, that whole diarrhea thing. —Tricia Olszewski