The history of modern entertainment shows no deficit of skinny/fat comedy duos—Laurel and Hardy, Fred and Barney, Spade and Farley. In “Superbad,” we get a new gruesome twosome: Seth and Evan. Following in a long comedy tradition, the two teenagers are the quintessential odd couple. Evan, the Boo Boo of the pair, is demure and awkward, with a level-headed intellect troubled by nagging neurosis. Seth, as the overbearingly energetic Yogi, clearly has mistaken physical size for a right to dominance. He spearheads each harebrained scheme to the clear discomfort of his smarter but more reserved partner.

The honest, geeky bond between the two is brilliantly established in the opening credits, where they trade some remarkably unselfconscious dance moves to some crazy 1970s funk. That bond is reinforced in the first scene, as they openly and profanely discuss over cell phones how they plan to explore their respective pornography addictions when they turn 18. In a very smart use of scripting shorthand, their relationship, social positions and motivations are made clear in the first 10 minutes.

The dynamic is a familiar one, but bears some interesting and often hilarious distinctions. For one, the homoerotic undertones that have always hung in the air behind these partnerships is placed front and center. Seth admits to a long compulsion for drawing penises on anything and everything he can imagine. The subsequent riot of juvenile dick depictions reaches a whole new plateau of filth—one can’t look away or stop laughing.

Seth and Evan’s deep personal history and connection as friends blurs and confounds in the social and hormonal mandate to explore their sexuality. Teenage obsession with sex is nothing new, but it’s portrayed here with an unparalleled avarice, uncomfortably wedded to the equally impenetrable mountain of alcohol acquisition. Their misplaced drive to bag the best looking girls in school is matched only by their belief that the only way to achieve this goal is to get the girls so stinking drunk that they wouldn’t know any better. The sad truth that these young ladies are actually fond of the boys is completely lost to them in their blind, Internet-fed distance from reality. In their myopic, selfish, hormone-fueled greed to score, and groping through their inability to form articulate sentences in the face of real live females, they see only one path to home plate, and the mission is set.

The following odyssey through fake IDs, liquor store security, cops, soused barflies, parties, thugs, drugs and automobile accidents is not unlike many films we’ve seen before. What sets it apart from “Porky’s,” “Animal House” and other classics of the genre is its strong sense of honest friendship between the characters. Although there are certainly conflicts, and more than a few scary moments fa ing various adults along the path, there are no villains. The characters, some drunker than others, all have heart, even the hard-drinking, gun-toting cops.

Produced by the same team that brought us “The 40 Year old Virgin” and “Knocked Up,” and originally written by Seth Rogan and Evan Goldberg (yes, Seth and Evan) when they were 13 years old, the movie strikes a terrific balance between blithe, youthful, no-holds-barred ignorance and wise, mature observation. “Superbad” reflects the relationship of its leads—a perfect balance of sentiment and vulgarity.

We may be on the verge of a new age of comedy, one where everyday experiences serve to horrify and dismay in the best, funniest possible way. If this is any indication of where comedy is headed, perhaps more films should be written by 13-year-olds.