In theaters

THE BREAK-UP, directed by Peyton Reed, written by Jeremy Garelick, Jay Lavender and Vince Vaughn, 106 minutes, rated PG-13.

The new comedy about falling out of love, “The Break-Up,” is concerned with opposites coming together and falling apart.

Nobody should come expecting much of the former, which is hastily glossed over during the opening credits when Brooke (Jennifer Aniston) and Gary (Vince Vaughn) meet cute at a Chicago Cubs baseball game. He hustles her with hot dogs, she’s smitten beyond reason, and so is born the potential for a new summer trend at the ballpark. Ladies, either beware or enjoy.

Moments later, while the credits roll, the couple is shown canoodling and kissing in a photo slideshow meant to underscore their love, which is so sweet you would know it was doomed even without the assistance of the film’s title.

Preventing the film from being socked with too much saccharine is the falling-apart part, which becomes substantial the moment their relationship implodes.

Brooke, an art gallery assistant, is home putting together the finishing touches for a dinner party when in strolls Gary, a bearish tour bus guide who would rather crack open a beer and watch the game than help Brooke with the incidentals. It occurs to her that this is always how they have lived their lives together – she’s a doer, he’s a taker. By the end of the night, they have charged through one mother of a fight and their two-year relationship is dead, though not as neatly as either would like.

Each owns one half of their pricey condominium. With neither party willing to move out, the movie becomes a showdown between the two, with the possibility for a second chance pinned to whether they sell their condo. After all, if they do, they’ve essentially sold whatever is left of their relationship.

From director Peyton Reed (“Bring It On”), “The Break-Up” is being billed as an “anti-romantic comedy,” which suggests that it plans to skewer anything warm and fuzzy while slaying the typical romantic comedy cliches.

While neither is true for the movie – it’s too cute and too commercial to really get down and dirty when it comes to how ugly relationships can get when the ax is thrown down (“Husband and Wives,” “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Wolf” and “The War of the Roses” did all of this much better) – this light, derivative take does generate more heat than some might expect. The escalation of the first fight, in particular, is impressively well-choreographed, with Aniston and Vaughn believably tearing each other down.

Cutting the drama with comedy is the film’s fine supporting cast (Jon Favreau, Vincent D’Onofrio, Cole Hauser, Joey Lauren Adams, Jason Bateman, a scene-stealing John Michael Higgins and Judy Davis), all of whom are so good, they join Aniston and Vaughn in creating this summer’s real mission impossible – a movie that might open well even in Namibia.

Grade: B

On DVD

FIREWALL, directed by Richard Loncraine, written by Joe Forte, 100 minutes, rated PG-13.

Imagine the situation. You’re Jack Stanfield (Harrison Ford), a wealthy, Seattle-based network security chief for a national chain of banks who has it all – a great family (Virginia Madsen among them), the swanky seaside estate that was used in the movie “Elektra” (not that Jack knows that), and a corner office that overlooks all of Seattle.

Now imagine this: One day, as Jack, you’re posed with a rather troubling conundrum when into your life comes Bill Cox (Paul Bettany), a smooth criminal who wants you to rob your own bank and deposit $100 million into offshore accounts. If you do so, your life and the lives of your recently kidnapped family will be spared. If you refuse, first your family will be murdered (messy), and then you (messier).

So, what do you do? Do you say to hell with the law and pilfer the money to protect your family? Or do you repeatedly put your family in harm’s way, risking their lives time and again because you’d rather protect the bank’s money instead?

If you’re thinking this is a no-brainer, that’s because for sane people, it is. But not for Jack. Jack continues to make decisions that literally almost cost his family members their lives. What he does is indefensible. Watching the movie, you sit there thinking that either this guy is dumb-struck stupid or he has a death wish for himself and his family.

Further fouling the film is that so much of it is driven by contrivance.

For instance, we learn early on that Jack’s son, Andy (Jimmy Bennett), is allergic to peanuts. What do you suppose the chances are that little Andy is going to be fed just enough to make his eyes roll back in his head while he codes on the floor? We learn that the family’s dog, Rusty, has a dog collar that also serves as a GPS tracking device, presumably so the dog could be found should it get lost. What do you suppose the odds are that that collar will prove critical toward the end?

About that ending – it’s a huffer and a puffer, with poor Harrison Ford looking oddly pale as he is kicked, bludgeoned, slapped, scratched, punched and tossed out windows. Ford has been here before, but never in a movie that made him look so frail – and never, ever in a movie that actually allowed the sun to set so symbolically behind him in the climactic scene.

Grade: D

Visit www.weekinrewind.com, the archive of Bangor Daily News film critic Christopher Smith’s reviews, which appear Mondays in Discovering, Fridays in Happening, and Weekends in Television. He may be reached at Christopher@weekinrewind.com.