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Hey, buddy, ‘Sex Tape’ is no place for kids


Who brings an 8-year-old to see a movie called “Sex Tape”?

What, did the guy working the door at The Spearmint Rhino not accept the little fella’s fake ID?

OK, he might have been a small 10-year-old.

And there’s a remote possibility he may have been Benjamin Button-ing.

But still.

People routinely bring inappropriately young children to R-rated movies. The night before, somebody carried a 2-year-old into “The Purge: Anarchy.” And I’ll never forget the awkwardness of sitting near two very small children during the puppet sex scenes of “Team America: World Police.”

This was somehow creepier.

As it turns out, “Sex Tape’s” R rating was mostly for language. A slew of unprintable language. And a couple of shots of the backsides of stars Cameron Diaz and Jason Segel.

Trying to regain some passion after a decade of marriage and two kids, Jay (Segel) and Annie (Diaz) spend three hours sampling every position in “The Joy of Sex,” and they film it all on Jay’s iPad.

Then things get convoluted.

Jay works at a radio station and burns through iPads two at a time. Whenever the next generation comes out, he gets two of those and gives the iPads he’d been using to friends, family members, even the mailman. But the real gift isn’t the iPad, it’s the playlists Jay puts on them and keeps updating through a complicated app he doesn’t fully understand. So, naturally, their sex tape syncs to every one of those iPads, including the one Annie loaned to the CEO (Rob Lowe) of an image-conscious family company that’s negotiating to buy Annie’s blog.

That’s an awfully long way to go to establish a premise, especially for what little payoff “Sex Tape” ultimately delivers.

Lowe, though, is a comic treasure. His is among the best comedic performances you’ll see all year, and he pulls it off with ease. You could realistically buy a ticket for “Sex Tape,” leave as soon as the action shifts from his character’s mansion and still feel like you got your money’s worth.

Just, please, don’t put yourself in the position of having to ask your grade-schooler if he’s ready to leave, too.