The rise of the Internet has helped the geeks inherit the Earth, a development celebrated by Fanboys, a rather formulaic road-trip comedy colored by Star Wars mania. Thanks to having its theatrical release delayed for more than a year, Kyle Newman’s film took on something of a mythic stature in the far corners of the ‘net, as the holdup made it seem like a case study in the mainstream’s condescending disrespect for all things geeky. Now that the wait is over, however, the truth seems more plain: Fanboys struggled to garner a slot at the local multiplex because it’s little more than a broad, juvenile triviality that aims to boost its target audience’s self-esteem about their obsession without ever convincing outsiders why rabid support for certain beloved properties (Star Wars, Star Trek, etc.) is warranted. To be sure, entertainment is the primary modus operandi at work here. Nonetheless, there’s something missing in the film's treatment of its central passion, which – explained by one character with little more than “I like it because I do” – is so lacking in self-analysis that the entire affair proves merely an extended high-five to those already in the Skywalker-adoring club.

A project like this should naturally be guided by Star Wars love, yet were that enthusiasm wedded to even a trace of reflection about the sensibleness of such insane fidelity to a fictional sci-fi saga, Newman’s film might have managed to say something, anything, about the virtues and limits of fervent fandom. Instead, however, funny-ha-ha references are the proceedings’ defining trait, alongside puerile humor, pratfalls and more gay-panic jokes than you can shake a lightsaber at. Oh yes, and cancer – specifically, the terminal kind that nerd Linus (Chris Marquette) has, and which motivates his three Ohio friends Hutch (Dan Fogler), Windows (Jay Baruchel), and Eric (Sam Huntington) to convince him to embark, in 1998, on a cross-country journey to Lucas’ San Francisco Skywalker Ranch to steal a rough cut of Episode I: The Phantom Menace so he can see it before shuffling off his mortal coil. It’s a plot instigator of an embarrassingly lazy sort – what, their lifelong fixation on the franchise wasn’t incentive enough? – though, as befitting the action’s general slapdash quality, it barely plays a factor, too busy is Newman having his characters make late-‘90s-specific comments about chat rooms and letting Seth Rogen flail about in two separate, equally cringe-worthy roles.

In this predictable fantasyland, sexual frustration is alleviated by a hot female who works at a comics store (Kristen Bell), Trekkies are “gay,” and just about everyone understands the preeminent value of Star Wars. Cameos from Kevin Smith, Carrie Fisher and William Shatner only confirm that the film is cheekily self-aware, and don’t distract from the poorly executed stabs at pop culture humor – Canadian prog-rockers Rush may not be cool, but liking them is hardly hilarious – and weak attempts at emotional drama via Eric and Linus’ strained relationship. The white elephant in the room is, of course, that Episode I is terrible, a fact that’s ultimately addressed in a straightforward punchline-y way, rather than used as the crux of a tongue-in-cheek look at the misguided nature of blind devotion. But so it goes with this disposable comedy, so intent on indulging in obscure Star Wars trivia, banal sub-Kevin Smith arguments about the series, and Harry Knowles idolization that one soon craves just a single moment when – as in Triumph the Insult Comic Dog’s legendary Late Night with Conan O’Brien segment – the air might be slightly let out of the insular, full-to-bursting fandom bubble.