The stench of his last film still lingering in the air, Adam Sandler is back — before we got a decent chance to enjoy his absence.

As you likely expected, That’s My Boy is a typical Sandler product – loud, crude and gracelessly assembled. It’s not a story so much as a series of set pieces that reach for laughter by being gross, profane and provocative. But no one goes to an Adam Sandler movie for the story. They go to laugh. And unlike last year’s abominable Jack and Jill, which flailed desperately without earning so much as a giggle, That’s My Boy sports a handful of decent one-liners and comedic performances. Whether you find any of it funny may depend on how receptive your sensibility is to bodily fluids, incest, adolescent rape, and frequent reference to genitalia as punch lines. It will also depend on your willingness to sit through stretches only sporadically interrupted by moments that inspire laughter.

Sandler leads these raunchy shenanigans as Donny Berger, a D-list, washed-up celebrity who gained notoriety in the 1980s after knocking up his teacher. This set-up — including the disturbing sight of an auditorium of students and teachers cheering on the 13-year-old Donny for his prowess — makes for an uncomfortable prologue. Sandler then takes center stage as the present-day Donny, an unkempt boor with a thick Boston accent who might as well have a beer surgically attached to his hand for as often as he’s throwing them back.

Armed with a scheme to raise $43,000 so he can pay his back taxes, the uncouth Donny decides to drop in on his estranged son, Todd (SNL alum Andy Samberg). Now a successful businessman, the anxiety-prone Todd is about to marry his fiancée (Leighton Meester) and is on the verge of receiving a big promotion. Donny’s arrival at the mansion where the wedding guests are staying only causes Todd further distress as he tries to keep their blood relationship under wraps.

Most of the supporting players get off at least one good line. Milo Ventimiglia (Rocky Balboa) is the best of the bunch as Meester’s brother and a soldier with a secret or two. Sandler, who in the past has managed to reel in A-list celebrities (Al Pacino and Jack Nicholson) for his vanity projects, strikes again with James Caan in a cute bit part as a boxer turned priest.

That’s My Boy is filled with the stunt casting we’ve come to expect from Sandler movies. Eva Amurri Martino and real-life mom Susan Sarandon play the younger and older versions of Donny’s sex-bomb teacher, Ms. McGarricle. Jets head coach Rex Ryan shows up as an accountant with love for Bill Belichik and Tom Brady. Sports talk anchor Dan Patrick plays a sleazy TV host who says he’ll give Donny fifty grand if he and his son reunite with McGarricle in prison for a “where are they now” story. Vanilla Ice and Todd Bridges appear as themselves, cast for their status as pop culture jokes. Bridges has little more than a cameo, and the jokes at his expense aren’t funny. On the other hand, Vanilla Ice acquits himself quite well in more substantial role as Donny’s longtime buddy. Yes, Mr. Ice can be funny.

Even when it elicits guffaws – and I confess to being moved occasionally by the juvenile antics — the humor is obvious and rehashed from much funnier films. That’s My Boy plays like a low-rent hybrid of Wedding Crashers and any number of Farrelly Brothers movies. It frequently relies on Donny’s coarseness or outrageousness of a sexual or violent nature for its laughs. (On this note, Meester is subjected to the most degrading scene in the film, made all the worse for how protracted it is, which ends up undermining its comedic potential.) But That’s My Boy occasionally hits the mark with a few inspired moments that almost make it worth sitting bored while waiting for something funny to happen. Almost.