August 6, 1999 | Even if the Fantastic Four or the X-Men maintained a farm system, some crime fighters still wouldn’t make the grade as Class A minor-leaguers. But would that keep the less-than-super wannabes from righting wrongs and doing derring-do? Not in the world according to Mystery Men, a scampishly clever and surprisingly sweet-natured comedy about the remarkable misadventures of unremarkable second-stringers.

In the lavishly retro metropolis of Champion City – an urban sprawl that recalls Blade Runner and Tim Burton’s Batman movies – it’s hard for guys like Mr. Furious (Ben Stiller), The Shoveler (William H. Macy) and The Blue Raja (Hank Azaria) to get any respect. For one thing, they’re constantly upstaged by the flashy Captain Amazing (Greg Kinnear), a smug superhero who employs his own publicist and rents advertising space on his uniform. (Imagine a NASCAR driver who can fly, and you get the picture.) For another thing, there’s the matter of superpowers – and the lack thereof.

As The Shoveler patiently explains to his increasingly impatient wife, “I shovel well. I shovel very well.” Trouble is, that’s all he can do. And let’s face it, there’s just so far you can go while using an oversized trowel as a blunt instrument. Blue Raja is slightly more versatile – he tosses teaspoons or salad forks at bad guys, and occasionally hits his intended target – but he greatly undermines his own effectiveness by refusing to throws knives as well. “I’m the Blue Raja,” he insists in his meticulously faked, upper-class British accent. “I’m not Knife Boy!”

For all their limitations, however, Shoveler and Blue Raja are appreciably more empowered than Mr. Furious, whose only superheroic stock in trade is a nasty temper. Even when he attempts a ferocious howl of rage, he can’t impress an entry-level henchman, much less a world-class arch-villain like the wickedly brilliant Casanova Frankenstein (Geoffrey Rush, who doesn’t look nearly as frightening here as he did with foul teeth and a walrus mustache in Shakespeare in Love).

But when Casanova contrives to entrap the overconfident Captain Amazing, Champion City is left defenseless. And that means the situation is sufficiently desperate for Mr. Furious and his buddies to get a crack at saving the day.

Mystery Men – which, it should be noted, is the name adopted by the ragtag heroes only after they prove themselves in battle – is based on a popular Dark Horse comic-book series. In striking the right balance of quirky satire and f/x spectacle, however, the movie owes just as much to the first Ghostbusters, the template for movies in which working-class nobodies matter-of-factly battle the forces of darkness. Working from a smart, snappy screenplay by Neil Cuthbert, first-time feature filmmaker Kinka Usher – an award-winning director of TV commercials – is savvy enough to keep the high-tech production values from overwhelming the comedy, and self-assured enough to simply back away and let the superlative ensemble players do their things without undue interference.

The early scenes are pleasingly amusing, particularly when the villains of the piece reveal a shameless affection for all things disco. But Mystery Men doesn’t really hit its stride until Mr. Furious, Blue Raja and Shoveler audition for potential allies. Just when you’re convinced that there can’t be any less prepossessing superheroes in and around Champion City, the movie offers passing glimpses of such dubious do-gooders as Waffle Man, PMS Woman -- and a pair of catfighting Wonder Woman types who never get around to formally introducing themselves.

Fortunately for all parties involved, a few promising newcomers make the final cut: The Spleen (Paul Reubens), a lisping nerd armed with toxic flatulence; Invisible Boy (Kel Mitchell), who insists that he really and truly can become invisible, but only when nobody is watching; and The Bowler (Janeane Garofalo), whose weapon of choice is a bowling ball that contains the spirit – and the skull – of her nagging father. With a little inspirational guidance from The Sphinx (Wes Studi), an enigmatic fellow fond of fortune-cookie aphorisms, and a few pieces of non-lethal weaponry from an eccentric scientist (Tom Waits), the good guys are ready to risk certain death – along with various other forms of public humiliation – to prove their worth.

Mystery Men is a few guffaws short of being a genuine laugh riot, but that’s OK: What makes it so enjoyable is its dogged insistence on taking its heroes so seriously. The wall-to-wall goofiness of the enterprise never undercuts, and often enhances, the unexpectedly touching moments. (There’s something gravely beautiful about William H. Macy’s stoic determination in the face of crises both private and public.) In the end, you can’t help smiling as you recognize the movie’s true colors as a hip but heartfelt parable about fulfilling dreams and transcending limitations.

The moral of the story? Superheroes are only human. And would-be superheroes are even more so.