Neither Tina Fey nor Amy Poehler seems invested in Baby Mama

SNL Tina Fey Written and directed by Michael McCullers. Starring Tina Fey, Amy Poehler, Greg Kinnear, and Steve Martin. 96 minutes. Rated PG-13. Opens Friday.

Could have sworn I've seen this episode of Baby Mama before, when it aired on Tina Fey's prime-time gig, 30 Rock. It was funny the first time around, when Fey, as late-night-TV exec Liz Lemon, found herself drawn to the sound of cooing and the scent of baby powder. After a poorly placed phone call to the world's worst fertility/meth-addiction doctor, Lemon wound up snatching an adorable tyke from a hairdresser — totally by accident, but still dark, weird stuff.

Baby Mama>extends the joke, then softens it, then smothers it in its crib — an unpleasant picture perhaps, but not any more disagreeable than the phrase "Produced by Lorne Michaels."

Pairing Fey with her former "Weekend Update" co-anchor Amy Poehler, Baby Mama's little more than> Tommy Boy Mean Girls, which Fey wrote and appeared in alongside Poehler. But Fey didn't write this one; first-time director Michael McCullers did — he of such duds as Thunderbirds and Undercover Brother, which only felt like a Lorne Michaels production.

Fey's now called Kate Holbrook, and instead of an NBC TV exec, she's a VP at a Whole Foods knockoff called Round Earth. She works for a ponytailed boss, played by Steve Martin as a puffy hippie-dippy dope who rewards his execs with things like five minutes' worth of uninterrupted eye contact. (Martin hasn't been so deadpan or dead-on in ages.)

Kate, of course, wants a baby: She visits a sperm bank, consults doctors, and plasters her apartment with Post-it notes bearing such think-positive aphorisms as "Yes! Be Fertile!" But as the Coen Brothers put it in Raising Arizona, her insides are a rocky place where a man's seed can find no purchase. Kate outsources her pregnancy for $100,000 and winds up with a "dumb white-trash" couple on her doorstep: Angie Ostrowiski (Poehler) and her husband Carl (Dax Shepard). Poehler doesn't seem sure what to do with Angie, who occasionally speaks in a hillbilly accent — unless it disappears altogether, and she's just Amy Poehler killing time till the next commercial break.

Ultimately, the movie exists solely to reunite a winning comic duo: two women so singularly in sync that, during their stint on "Weekend Update," they genuinely laughed at each other's jokes, despite their no doubt well-worn familiarity come showtime. Kate and Angie are just Tina and Amy goofing around — drunk-dancing, crooning along to video-game karaoke, and, once more, finishing each other's sentences. I'd rather watch MILF Island.

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