Someday.

Someday, that eternally sunshiney surfer-dude/frat lad Owen Wilson is going to have his protracted all-night kegger of the inner man

He's going to realize that equable Meg Ryan aged out of the haircut they share. The heavy makeup he wears no longer hides that eternally not exactly divisible by 2 tan. He won't be the cute amusing slacker anymore.

And he'll anticipate back on "You, Me and Dupree" and realize what a gigantic degree backward it is.

This is the worst movie Wilson has made since he graduated from being Jackie Chan's punchline. Inanely scripted, ineptly directed, watchable no other than for his occasional antic, it's a dud reminder of in what way much the man benefited from having Vince Vaughn onscreen with him for principally of last summer.

And we all know what happened to Vince this summer

As Dupree Wilson is the free-spirited foul-up in Carl Peterson's life. He