40 días y 40 noches

I doubt it.

Someone who wants to have sex but is somehow thwarted; now THAT'S funny ... well, potentially funny. Someone who wants NOT to have sex but is somehow coerced into doing so; that's NOT funny.

-Actually, very frequently it IS funny, but under conditions that don't hold here. The man who simply wants to read a book or work on his woodcarving but has an insatiable spouse; that can be amusing. The man who for obscure "because it's in the script, that's why" reasons gives up sex for Lent … well, whatever. If the film wants to ignore this tepid premise and tell jokes about, say, badminton, that could work. But the sex that's been renounced is something we never hear the end of. It's like listening to someone say, "No thanks, I don't want any sugar in my coffee," six hundred and fifty times.

How long is this guy doing without, anyway? Forty days; a little over a month. Please. Most of us spend, give or take, the first five THOUSAND days of our lives without sex (and it's only so few if you accept the film's extended definition). How hard can it be?

Not a single player in the story has a brain, and the central character is in addition one of the wettest schmendricks ever to be pushed forward as a romantic lead.