-By Rex Roberts

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Imagine a world where everyone tells the truth, where deceit, dissemblance and duplicity do not exist. Now imagine sustaining the conceit for 99 minutes in order to make an entertaining feature-length comedy worthy of theatrical release. There’s the rub…

The Invention of Lying, a good example of sketch comedy on steroids, is amusing for the first 20 minutes, more or less the time it takes to get the plot rolling (not counting the unfunny narrative voiceover that establishes the film’s premise). We titter, for instance, when Mark and Anna, played by leads Ricky Gervais and Jennifer Garner, exchange friendly but frank dialogue at the beginning of their arranged date: “How are you?” inquires a hopeful Mark. “Depressed and pessimistic about our date tonight,” replies Anna before revealing she has been engaging in some tension-relieving masturbation and hopes to finish up before going to dinner. The stale gag fingers the problem with this self-indulgent, ultimately unsatisfying skit-that-won’t-quit: One joke does not a movie make.

Gervais has humanized the egocentric schmuck he made famous in “The Office,” the acclaimed BBC series that established his reputation for drollery, bringing genuine warmth to his portrayal of the self-deprecating dentist in the likeable Ghost Town. He’s gone back to basics in Lying, which he co-wrote and co-directed with newcomer Matthew Robinson. The film’s characters, like its high concept, are mere excuses for a bit of fun and more than slightly absurd. The narrative, likewise, lurches forward in fits and starts, accommodating a string of set-pieces that become wearisome as the comedy’s novelty wanes. The movie appears to have been made on a budget, reinforcing the feeling that the production is a too-long sitcom.

Here’s the setup: Mark is a flabby writer manqué for Lecture Films Motion Picture Studios (no lies, therefore no fiction), assigned to chronicle the dreary 14th century (lots of plague, little levity). Fired from his job and badgered by his landlord for rent, Mark has a brainstorm: What if he tells the bank teller he has more cash in his account than he actually does? She, of course, believes him. Suddenly, the world is his oyster: Easy money, easy women. But when he attempts to comfort his dying mother by inventing Heaven (no lies, therefore no God), he must deal with unintended consequences: The Gospel According to Mark has people asking about the Man in the Sky, and they want answers.

Gervais has assembled an appealing cast that includes Rob Lowe, Tina Fey and Jeffrey Tambor in familiar roles, with cameos by Philip Seymour Hoffman, Jason Bateman, Christopher Guest and Edward Norton. They deliver in the spirit of movie, but the script goes nowhere. Not only jokes, but entire scenes, repeat themselves. A deflating cynicism creeps into the proceedings. Gervais isn’t a mean-spirited comedian, and he and Robinson clearly wish to entertain rather than offer satiric insight into the human condition—the message of the movie could fit into a fortune cookie—yet the cumulative effort of a world populated by compulsive truth-tellers wears us down. In a universe where cruel reality remains the only possibility, transcendence is out of the question. Love is a genetic strategy, faith a feint against despair, and happy endings? A statistically proven marketing strategy.