A proliferation of raw, raunchy dialogue. An avalanche of verbal filth (and a smaller quantum of the visual variety). There's a lot more raunch in the talk -- the sheer, voluminous, often hilarious verbosity -- than in the action. If you bleeped this movie for broadcast TV, it would sound like a conga line of Iron Men going through a metal detector. The sex talk is dirty and silly. Constant foul language. Quickly curdles into gross-out humor. I don't care that Elizabeth Banks never showed her tits. This leads to several dozen chuckle-worthy jokes that can't even come close to being repeated in a family newspaper. The tastiest in tasteless yuks. It's a raunchy R-rated farce. He also spins vulgarity into some great, mostly unprintable punch lines. I have nothing against the cheerfully crude nature of "Zack and Miri Make a Porno." He's a superbly gifted writer who wields four-letter words as skillfully as George Carlin and Lenny Bruce wielded them, albeit mostly for cheaper, lowbrow laughs.