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Pop-culture scholars might one day view the conjoined-twin comedy Stuck on You as a cry of angst from the Farrelly brothers, a profound commentary on the two directors’ conflation in the press and the popular imagination. More likely, though, those sages will just puzzle over why nobody jerks off a cow. Lacking the madcap crudeness of Kingpin and There’s Something About Mary, Stuck on You suffers from a debilitating case of Shallow Hal-itosisthat is, confusing its setup with its punch line. Sure, it’s kind of funny at first to see Walt and Bob (Greg Kinnear and Matt Damon) connected at the torso, but even tantric-breathing techniques can’t extend that yuk past five seconds. Still, the bros stick with it, and after the initial sight gag and “I need some time alone” jokes, they build Stuck from the following Siamese-twin axiom: You don’t get much privacy, but you can kick ass as a hockey goalie. Sports success on Martha’s Vineyard, though, gets old for budding actor Walt, who pines to move to Hollywood. (In the film’s funniest moment, he stars in the one-man show Tru, dragging a flop-sweating, black-clad Bob across the stage.) When he and Bob finally make it to L.A., Walt lands the role of P.I. Mack Beasley opposite Cher on a dramatic series wittily titled Honey and the Beaze. Playing herself and armed with a litany of punchless one-liners, Cher’s as annoying as in that video of her ass on that boat. Good-natured, horizontally hefty Bob and Walt don’t wear thin so much as eventually blend into the scenery: Just like the duo’s motley crew of Cali buddiesthe geezer agent (Seymour Cassel), the airheaded and air-breasted neighbor (Eva Mendes), and the narcoleptic screenwriter buddy (Terence Bernie Hines)the audience eventually forgets that when two guys are stuck together, it’s always supposed to be funny. If the two-headed Farrelly directorial team wanted to go high-concept, they should’ve at least brainstormed: How about a man and a woman? A giant and a dwarf? Jim Carrey and Anthony Anderson? A live body and a corpse? No, let’s save that one for Weekend at Bernie’s III. Josh Levin