Starring Bernie Mac and Samuel L. Jackson. Rated 18A.

Soul Men is an oddly fitting valedictory for Bernie Mac, who died suddenly just after playing Floyd Henderson, a retired car-wash magnate. Samuel L. Jackson is unreconstructed ex-con Louis Hinds. Both are slipping unquietly into their dotage, regretting time lost since their heyday as the Real Deal, a Sam and Dave–type duo most famous for backing Marcus Hooks (current R&Ber John Legend), although they floundered when Hooks went solo.

After three decades in the wilderness, the Deal is asked to get Real again at the Apollo—minus Marcus, now gone to that Stax-Volt studio in the sky.

Naturally, Floyd and Louis haven’t even talked since falling out over a woman also since departed, leaving a talented daughter (Sharon Leal) in Memphis. She becomes a new cause of both tension and unity when the squabbling singers hit the road in an avocado-green Eldorado. If Louis didn’t refuse to fly from L.A. to New York, there’d be no story—and there isn’t much as it is.

The script, from Matthew Stone and Robert Ramsey, is trite, repetitive, and overly dependent on Viagra jokes. And the direction from Malcolm D. Lee (a cousin of Spike’s) is slack around the middle; like the aging Floyd, his talent could use a hip replacement. But, man, does Lee ever turn Mac and Jackson loose!

You completely forget the flick’s limitations when these two are squabbling, swearing, or singing. (The leads do their own vocals.) Mac’s intensity is overwhelming, although the funny business is more heavily shadowed by mortality than anyone intended—an effect heightened by a brief cameo from the late Isaac Hayes, who also died shortly after filming, within days of Mac.

As (very) final credits roll, there’s a worthwhile tribute to Mac and Hayes that will cause you to leave the theatre quoting some essential Floyd Henderson: “Ain’t that about a bitch?”