In theaters

LAWS OF ATTRACTION, directed by Peter Howitt, written by Aline Brosh McKenna and Robert Harling, 90 minutes, rated PG-13.

Sometimes in the movies, the laws of attraction can only lead to a misdemeanor.

You know it when you see it. Either not enough attention was paid to the script, the situations are rife with implausibilities, or there’s no chemistry between the primary love interests.

All of that’s true in “Laws of Attraction,” a thin romantic comedy from director Peter Howitt (“Sliding Doors,” “Johnny English”) whose likable co-stars are so poorly mismatched, they can’t save the picture from being a disappointing piece of middling mediocrity.

As written by Aline Brosh McKenna and Robert Harling, the film stars Julianne Moore and Pierce Brosnan as Audrey Woods and Daniel Rafferty, two good-looking, high-powered divorce attorneys who have never lost a case, have nothing but initial malice toward each other, yet who naturally enter into a relationship because the movie requires them to.

The film wants to recall George Cukor’s “Adam’s Rib,” the superior, 1949 classic starring Katharine Hepburn and Spencer Tracy as married attorneys fighting opposing sides of a murder case. Genuine sparks flew between those two real-life lovers, but in “Attraction,” which swirls around a star-studded divorce trial, Moore and Brosnan bring the sort of heat you’d expect from two flirting first cousins fresh out of a southern backwater.

The film is something of a throwback, lamely trying for the same sort of rapid-fire dialogue that ignited the works of Cukor and Billy Wilder, but which doesn’t work here. The writing is too wordy, the wit is too strained, and the resulting movie comes off like an awkward museum piece.

But not a total failure. “Laws of Attraction” is peculiar in that it works best if you view it along its periphery – its supporting cast is so strong, in fact, that they generate what interest the movie has.

Frances Fisher, in particular, is especially strong and funny in her scene-stealing turn as Audrey’s mother, Sara – a hip, 57-year-old woman still keeping it real with the help of a little Botox, an unruly workout routine and frequent fat injections in her lips. She’s loose and appealing, but never comes off as caricature. Better yet, she looks as if she came to have fun, which is key, helping her to get the biggest laughs in the movie.

Also giving the film a boost are Parker Posey as dazed, combative fashionista Serena and her punk-rock husband, Thorne (Michael Sheen), who wears more eyeliner than a ’30s movie starlet. Together, they’re sleazy, unbridled animals, trying their best to tear up a movie that would have been neutered without them in it.

Grade: C-

On video and DVD

CALENDAR GIRLS, directed by Nigel Cole, written by Tim Firth and Juliette Towhidi, 108 minutes, rated PG-13.

Nigel Cole’s “Calendar Girls” is based on the true story of a group of middle-aged Yorkshire women who, in 1999, found the courage to whip off their bras, “get them out” and pose nude for a pinup calendar.

They did so in an effort to raise money for a hospital charity, one that became close to their hearts after the death of the husband of one woman, from leukemia. In the process, the women became internationally famous, selling tens of thousands of calendars, earning the hospital hundreds of thousands of pounds and, at the peak of their fame, landing in Hollywood on an episode of “The Tonight Show” with Jay Leno.

But before fame struck, reality struck first. The women, led by Chris (Helen Mirren) and her best friend, Annie (Julie Walters), whose husband, John (John Alderton), is the man who died of cancer, met the formidable resistance of their women’s club, the Women’s Institute.

It was the WI’s respected support they felt they needed to make their project seem less like soft-core porn and more like an honorable endeavor. But wouldn’t you know, a club best known for selling plum jam didn’t exactly fancy the idea of their members baring their own plums for all the world to see.

As written by Tim Firth and Juliette Towhidi, “Calendar Girls” recalls a female version of “The Full Monty,” another British import that dealt with issues of modesty, the difficulty of accepting one’s body image, and the empowerment that can come from realizing that sagging body parts and dimpled buns are not the end of the world.

The second half of the movie isn’t nearly as energetic as its first half, as director Cole turns his film into a cautionary tale about the consequences of fame and narcissism. Still, the performances are consistently appealing, particularly those by Mirren and Walters, who ground the movie as often as they send it up.

Indeed, as these two prove – at least when it comes to calendars – April doesn’t always have to be the cruelest month.

Grade: B+

Christopher Smith is the Bangor Daily News film critic. His reviews appear Mondays and Fridays in Style, 5:30 p.m. Thursdays on WLBZ 2 Bangor and WCSH 6 Portland, and are archived at RottenTomatoes.com. He can be reached at BDNFilm1@aol.com.