I like bad movies, probably as much as I like good ones. What’s harder for me to appreciate are the movies that fall in the middle – not inept enough for mockery but not excellent enough to admire. Unfortunately for all involved, Cedar Rapids is one of those middling films.

In the vein of aging manchild films like The 40 Year Old Virgin and Knocked Up, Cedar Rapids concerns itself with the late-life coming of age of a rural Iowa insurance salesman named Tim Lippe. Like Carrell’s virgin, he’s earnest and kind-hearted but heartbreakingly dim. His social life consists almost entirely of awkward weekly hookups with his 6th grade teacher, and he’s never been on an airplane. Fate conspires to send him to an important industry event in the bright lights of Cedar Rapids, and hilarity should then ensue.

To be fair, there are moments of hilarity. John C. Reilly is amusing as a cheerfully vulgar and amoral rival salesman who takes an immediate shine to Tim, and Isiah Whitlock is good as a nerdy salesman who does a wicked impression of Omar from The Wire. Ed Helms is serviceably funny playing the repressed character we’ve come to expect from him, but the movie doesn’t do much novel with it.

The movie’s most glaring fault is that it runs in too many different directions. The romantic aspect of the comedy is sort of charming in a indie-film way, but in the end no one gets what they want and no one seems to have grown any as a result of the events of the film. The business plotline is kind of silly, and while it gets the most screen time, it’s probably the least interesting thread. The subplot with the hooker and all the crack feels like an afterthought, tacked on to lure fans of The Hangover.

There’s nothing here that’s terrible, and nothing that counts as spectacular. For the most part, it’s an inoffensive and mildly amusing comedy that could have benefitted from more judicious editing and a little more courage in its comedy convictions.

You will be on a plane. This will be on. You will chuckle, but not a whole lot. The time will pass a little faster, and for a while you will forget that you’re in a metal tube hurtling through the clouds at 500 miles per hour. That, finally, is the only real use for truly mediocre films – to take your mind off the uncomfortably vague physics of human flight. If you are a good flyer who doesn’t need the distraction, you don’t need to buy the headphones at all.