He's the uptight guy, the good sport who finds himself in one humiliating situation after another, the mensch whose neuroses keep him from finding happiness until he meets a free-spirited woman who loosens him up.

In "Along Came Polly," he's an insurance-risk analyst named Reuben who's probably too phobic and worried about his sensitive stomach to eat the sandwich for which he's named. Then, along comes Polly, who's played by Jennifer Aniston in a genial performance that, with its forthrightness and lack of hang-ups, is nothing like Rachel on "Friends."

It's likable acting that keeps us involved in "Polly," not only from Stiller and Aniston but also from Philip Seymour Hoffman, who gives an extremely funny, extremely Jack Black-esque performance as Reuben's has-been actor friend.

Playing a dope with an absurdly misplaced self-confidence, Hoffman hurls himself around the frame like one of those ping-pong balls in the lottery machine on TV. His character also coins a gross word, "sharting," the meaning of which is probably better left between you and your gastroenterologist.

As Ben-needs-to-loosen-up angstcoms go, "Polly" isn't as funny as "Flirting With Disaster" or "Meet the Parents" (or the Cary Grant classic "Bringing Up Baby," which is where this formula was invented), but it is better than "Duplex" and "Keeping the Faith." In fact, I'd say Stiller can pretty much count this role as perfected.

Now, maybe it's time to tackle something new?