REVIEW: Deft Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules Is More Than Just a Quickie Sequel

Most adults would never see Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules of their own volition. But it's too bad more filmmakers won't see it, to save us from having to sit through the umpteenth badly conceived and paced indie drama-slash-comedy about family eccentricity, angst and resentment.

The themes of Rodrick Rules -- a quickie follow-up to last year's Diary of a Wimpy Kid, both based on Jeff Kinney's series of kids' books -- aren't particularly sophisticated. They deal with the usual: Shy, goofy kid gets a crush on the cool girl at school; at home, his older brother makes his life a living hell. But when it comes to structure, pacing and even comic timing, Rodrick Rules -- directed by David Bowers (Astro Boy, Flushed Away) and adapted by Gabe Sachs and Jeff Judah -- doesn't let its audience down. I felt a lot less shafted by it than I do by some movies made for allegedly discriminating adults.

I admit I'm a Wimpy Kid virgin: I have not seen the first movie, nor have I read the books on which the series is based. So there could be some "The books are way better than the movies" nuance that I'm missing. But Rodrick Rules moved along briskly for me: Even the gags we've all seen before (like the evergreen "chocolate 'poo' on the seat of the pants" routine) are handled so deftly you almost forget how ancient they are.

Most members of the cast of the first Wimpy Kid have returned for this one: Zachary Gordon stars as Greg Heffley, the secretly adorable but totally awkward wimpy kid of the title. He's relieved to be leaving his first year of middle school behind to enter the seventh grade. "Look at the tiny sixth-graders," he says to his best buddy Rowley (Robert Capron) as they strut through the halls on their first day.

Greg has his eye on a recent blonde-goddess transfer named Holly (the serene-beyond-her-years Peyton List), and naturally, he can't get anywhere with her. But things are even worse at home, where he suffers the cruelties of his teenage brother, Rodrick (Devon Bostick), an aspiring rock'n'roll drummer -- with his liner-rimmed eyes and disaffected pout, he's a Stroke in training. Rodrick doesn't think twice about doing crappy stuff to Greg, like locking him in the basement so he can have a wild, Coke-fueled party with his pals. Dad (Steve Zahn -- and if you're horrified that Zahn is now old enough to play a movie dad, you're not alone) is pretty much tuned out, unless the boys mess with his Civil War models. ("These are not toys!" he bellows. "They're figurines!") Mom (Rachael Harris), who bears an unfortunate and scary resemblance to Sarah Palin, tries to lure the boys into good behavior by launching a plan to distribute "Mom bucks" -- each exchangeable for a real dollar -- every time one of them does something nice for the other. Rodrick, of course, quickly learns how to game the system, so he can continue to torment his younger brother in peace and turn a profit.

The major plot points of Rodrick Rules are less significant than the minor bits banked around them. Bowers integrates the smaller, goofy bits in a way that strengthens, rather than weakens, the fabric of the movie. Greg and Rowley prepare for a good old-fashioned sleepover by ditching the "approved" videos Rowley's parents have provided (one of them is called "Soft Bears") for the '70s-cheapie horror movie they've procured specially for the occasion. It's called The Foot, and as absurd as it is, it zaps their ability to sleep (and please don't tell me that's never happened to you).

And when Greg and Rodrick finally start getting along -- temporarily, at least -- Rodrick schools him in the foundation of true manhood: They hang around outside the convenience store, slapping plastic puke on patrons' cars and laughing uproariously at the results. "Fake vomit," Rodrick solemnly tells Greg. "You can't beat the classics." Forget the stress-filled reunions and awkward silences around the dinner table: Diary of a Wimpy Kid: Rodrick Rules knows the true meaning of family.