The secret society of white man-children in their 30s is currently the most represented group in American comedies. For this reigning (and tired) subgenre, The Hangover represents a high point. It's more quick-witted, and just as character-based as I Love You, Man and its director Todd Phillips' Old School. The best scene involves the three main bromos suffering the consequences of drunken debauchery when corrupt cops use them for a grade-school lesson in Tasers. In trying to recollect the blacked-out events that led to a friend disappearing on the night of his Vegas bachelor party, it's an improved variation of Very Bad Things and Dude, Where's My Car. But like their own inability to remember, too little of The Hangover lingers. Phillips and his sharp, semi-known cast (stars Bradley Cooper, Zack Galfianakis, Ed Helms and Justin Bartha are largely responsible for its strengths) strike a subversive pose. But the film doesn't really lead anywhere. By the end, it's adapted to sweet conclusions rather than embracing an anarchic philosophy. This is in large part due to its structure: The Hangover isn't about crazy things happening; it's about recalling crazy things that happened. Only on occasion is the comedic danger palpable. Pat conclusions and racist shortcuts (threatening blacks, emasculated Asians) disservice The Hangover's real comic efforts.