It's hard to stomach any story that seems predictable. And for a fleeting moment at the start of "Dinner for Schmucks," our guts seem to know where this comedy is headed.

Two oddballs hook up. Trouble happens. Trouble solved. End of story.

Don't be fooled. "Schmucks'" nutty antics and finger-licking finale make this a worthy chow-down.

Just like "The Dinner Game," the cruel 90s' farce from France's Francis Veber that inspired this remake, "Schmucks" whips up a biting tale about boosting one's vanity at the expense of others.

Right from the get-go, Steve Carell and Paul Rudd dig into this premise with gusto.

Like many a "nice guy," financial analyst Tim Conrad (Rudd) has played by the books all his life. But his career isn't any brighter for it.

Things look up, however, when Conrad's arrogant boss (Bruce Greenwood) offers him a promotion with a condition.

To get the job, and the swank office that goes with it, Conrad must come to a very special dinner party.

He, like all the other hungry young execs invited, must bring a king-size fool as their date. The biggest idiot wins the man the job.

It's cruel, I know, and messed-up a thousand ways from Sunday. But insulting people who are none the wiser is what this rich dude and his boys' club get off on.

No amount of Lamborghini cars can buy them that same thrill.

With the smell of a corner office in the sky to lure him on, Conrad invites an amateur taxidermist with a thing for mice (Carell) as his guest.

The heartless well-to-dos sit back, sip their champagne and mock every loser in the room.

The clueless invitees think, "Wow, what a bunch of great guys for hosting this party."

But kind-hearted Barry Speck transcends all this meanness, proving with every certainty in his bone-headed body that these big-wheeling titans just plain bite.

Carell's genius gets this party started

Director Jay Roach ("Austin Powers," "Meet the Fockers") has little to do to make Rudd and Carell cook as oddball foils.

Rudd's Conrad nails the plight of the upwardly-mobile businessman with a conscience to a tee.

But this is Carell's show all the way.

It would have been easy to treat Barry as some 2-D dummy to scorn. But Carell makes us care about this guy.

With no more than a goofy grin and a simple hello, this half-baked hero sets tsunamis of destruction in motion.

Still, we can't help but wonder if Barry will earn Tim's true friendship.

Will he ever change his cell phone password to anything but P-A-S-S-W-O-R-D?

Will he ever figure out where his ex-wife's G-spot went? Barry thinks it's hiding in her handbag with all the other stuff she loses.

We root for Barry's wide-eyed innocence and wonderful, halfwitted charms because in them we see the real humanity and true moral to this story: Stupid is as stupid does.

Big kudos go to Zack Galifianakis ("The Hangover") as Barry's mind-controlling arch enemy and "Flight of the Concords'" Jemaine Clement as an enfant terrible painter who loves goats and women with equal passion.

But for all these laugh-out-loud pluses, Carell still brings the real rise to this comedic soufflé and makes us all think twice about the true difference between mice and men.

Three stars out of four.