‘The Goods: Live Hard. Sell Hard.’

Some movies will do anything for a laugh -- except decide what they really want to be.

Such a split-personality problem overwhelms "The Goods: Live Hard. Sell Hard."

No, you're not witnessing multiple typos in that title punctuation; that's how Paramount Pictures has decreed this movie shall be known. (By my count, it's only the fourth time they've changed the title.)

But a strained comedy by any other name would smell just as sour. And "The Goods" definitely doesn't have the goods, cinematically speaking.

It's got a game cast -- and a timely, seemingly can't-miss premise.

It's got lots of down-and-dirty jokes about sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. (Or, more precisely in the latter case, sugary boy-band pop.)

Yet its nothing-sacred 'tude turns out to be a ruse, because in its heart of hearts "The Goods" is a big sappy bowl of mush, right down to its Scrooge-sees-the-light finale.

What a letdown. Especially in a movie with a setting so worthy of stinging satire.

But I suppose that, during these tough economic times, would-be satires need to pull their punches.

That's exactly what "The Goods" does with its tale of an under-the-gun auto dealer so desperate he calls in an ace liquidator who specializes in bringing dead car lots back to life.

Of course, fast-talking, glad-handing Don Ready (Jeremy Piven) doesn't do it all by himself.

He's got a dependably eccentric support team behind him: soulful Jibby Newsome (Ving Rhames), hearty Brent Gage (David Koechner) and sultry Babs Merrick (Kathryn Hahn).

So when silver-haired Ben Selleck (a game James Brolin) sends out a distress call from his family-run dealership in small-town Temecula, Calif., Don and his posse saddle up and ride to the rescue.

Upon arrival, they find not only a business on life support but a sales crew at least as quirky as they are, to say nothing of a slimy rival dealer (Alan Thicke) itching to take over Ben's car lot.

Naturally, said rival has an equally smarmy son ("The Hangover's" Ed Helms) who just happens to be engaged to Ben's fetching daughter (Jordana Spiro of TV's "My Boys"). That is, if he can bring himself to abandon his dreams of man-band stardom. (Even he admits he's too old to be in a boy band.)

But Helms isn't the only "Hangover" holdover on hand; there's also Ken Jeong (fully clothed this time) as a Selleck salesman and Rob Riggle as Ben's childlike son.

So far, so so-so. But "The Goods" is one movie that's all set-up and no payoff.

In part, that's because screenwriters Andy Stock and Rick Stempson (who also collaborated on "Balls Out: Gary the Tennis Coach") don't have the courage of their rude, crude convictions. Every time it looks as though "The Goods" might be going for the jugular, the movie wimps out, getting all noble and heart-warmy on us. (Or at least as noble and heart-warmy as this kind of movie ever gets.)

And, try as it might, not even this movie can sell us on used-car salesmen as the good guys.

Especially not with director Neal Brennan demonstrating so little grasp of big-screen comedy pacing.

A veteran "Chapelle's Show" writer and director, Brennan knows how to deliver a visual punch line and draw comically exaggerated performances from his cast members. But there's a big difference between a bunch of TV skits and a feature-length movie -- which may explain why this 90-minute movie sputters along so slowly it feels as though we're watching a TV miniseries. (If only we could change the channel.)

That also might explain why "Entourage" Emmy-winner Piven doesn't dominate "The Goods" as he should.

On the surface, gung-ho supersalesman Don Ready has plenty in common with Piven's scene-stealing "Entourage" character, obnoxious superagent Ari Gold.

But the cinematic vehicle Don Ready's supposed to drive is as big a clunker as the cars clogging Ben Selleck's auto lot. And no amount of frenetic salesmanship on Piven's part can disguise the the fact that "The Goods" is far from good.

Contact movie critic Carol Cling at ccling@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0272.