Do you like your leading men schlubby, downtrodden and reeking of scotch? Do you fancy a five o'clock shadow ... on his shoulders? Do you find obsession to the point of stalking quaint and flattering?

Then Barney Panofsky's your guy.

Barney, played to a tee by Paul Giamatti, is a fairy tale archetype for every heavyset, bumbling baby boomer male today. There is nothing particularly likeable about the fellow, and yet the plot of "Barney's Version" and its 1997 source novel by Mordecai Richler revolves around his bizarrely successful wooing of incredible, diverse women. Do they see him as a pet project? The one man they can recreate in their ideal image? Whatever their propensity toward this schlemiel is, it never becomes clear in all 132 minutes of the film.

Which doesn't make it a bad story, per se. There's enough zing and reverie to ensnare nonbelievers. And there are myriad fierce emotional scenes that justify Giamatti's Golden Globe nomination for the role. Each shot of his glassy, weary eyes can make an academy member swoon. Barney may be a schmuck, but the actor dedicates himself 100 percent to that schmuckiness.

The title character is an aging TV producer whose biggest claim to fame is a decades-long run of a Canadian soap opera. But now a vengeful detective (Mark Addy) is drudging up the cold-case murder of Barney's best friend, Boogie (Scott Speedman, a swarthy treat), in an investigative book. From here, the narrative bounces between modern-day dustups with his estranged family and flashbacks of his headier escapades.

We meet his bohemian 1970s posse in Rome, just as he's about to wed the pregnant, psychotic Clara (Rachelle Lefevre). Like the spark that she is, their marriage ends abruptly and violently. Barney skulks back to Montreal and courts his future second wife (Minnie Driver), a Jewish socialite with personality to spare. On their sitcom-funny wedding day, Barney falls in love ... with another woman — the alluring waif Miriam (Rosamund Pike).

This isn't romantic; this is sociopathic. And yet, these women find him (eventually) irresistible. Poppycock.

To detract from the hooey, Dustin Hoffman delivers a rollicking performance as Barney's randy policeman father, Izzy. His stream-of-consciousness senior moments and utter disregard for etiquette is a high point in a film that relishes its own lows. His liveliness is contagious.

Though it would benefit from chopping down its run time, "Barney's Version" is otherwise steered tightly by director Richard J. Lewis. A veteran of TV episodes ("CSI," "The Defenders"), he has a knack for restraint, letting the actors and script make all the magic. He doesn't get engulfed by the nomadic scenery (Canada, Italy, the States) and instead treats all locales with equal distinction. Even a divey watering hole feels comfortable. Each is a piece of Barney's tumultuous life, for better or worse.

Despite — or perhaps because of — his brusque nature, Barney could be seen as a hero for the sullen. He isn't the most ambitious chap (save for when he's pursuing the gal of his dreams), and he's no Hollywood heartthrob. He's not even all there in the head — or liver, thanks to his drinking habits. But he's an emblem of assurance, the metaphorical pat on the back today's male may need.

"Barney's Version." Rated: R. Running time: 2 hours, 12 minutes. 3 stars.

To find out more about Melissa Bobbitt and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com.