The Other Woman is an odd chick flick that struggles to find a balance between sickly sweet “sismance” and over the top vulgarity.

It is also offensively unfunny. Exactly how a film can star Cameron Diaz and Leslie Mann – two of the better comedic actresses working today – and not raise a chuckle is concerning for the careers of screenwriter Melissa Stack (her debut) and director Nick Cassavetes, whose first foray into comedy will make many pine for the schmaltzy dramas he usually delivers (The Notebook, John Q).

What we get instead is an absurd feminist fantasy that focuses on hardnosed mistress Carly (Cameron Diaz), her lover’s emotional wreck of a wife Kate (Leslie Mann), and another mistress Amber (Kate Upton) as they plot revenge on the object of their shared “affections” Mark King (Nikolaj Coster-Waldau).

Mark is presented as the ultimate womanising straw man: a cheating, egotistical charlatan, whose penis leads him to women gullible enough to have sex on the first date. Although played with the right amount of smug charm by the handsome Coster-Waldau, he is all caricature. In no way do his betrayals bring forth any kind of emotional reaction – be it contempt or pity – since how can anyone feel for what is simply a misogynist bogeyman?

The strange sisterhood comprised of Diaz, Mann and Upton’s characters is no more tangible, with every interaction between the three a composition of false notes.

Separately they are bad enough. Diaz comes off as incredibly unlikeable, even during her characters arc from “monogamy is not normal” to "vigilante against adulterers!" Mann is even worse, since she took the lone sympathetic character in this whole scenario and turned her into a shrieking, annoying court jester that could’t wring out a laugh no matter how over the top her theatrics.

Then there is Upton, who offers nothing more than eye candy for those partners unwillingly dragged to this dreck. A future in Adam Sandler comedies awaits.

Together they’re an even bigger train wreck, with scenes of drunken confessions in wardrobes and embraces by campfire, clashing with explicit exchanges about the art of pubic hair trimming and scenes of gigantic dogs bollocks slapping Diaz in the face (yes, you read that right).

And let’s not get started on the immature revenge scenarios placed upon the deceiving spouse, of which the high cue is a violent bowel movement that doesn’t even come close to the hilarious heights of Jeff Daniels doing the same in Dumb and Dumber.

In the trials, tribulations and fellowship of the wronged women in The Other Woman, there is nothing gained nor lost. For a movie about the repercussion of adultery, it manages to trash the value of marriage. As an exercise in vulgarity, it proves that there is indeed a fine art in making an R-rated comedy work (something Cassavetes does not possess). But ultimately, for a comedy that features a female heavy cast taking on risqué material The Other Woman makes the premise incredibly unattractive.

This is a shame since Bridesmaids has proven it can be done. It’s time for Hollywood to lift their game.