“Get Him to The Greek” makes it official. Filmgoers have blissfully accepted the rosy bosom of the “raunch-com” as bona fide cinema.

Similar to the rom-com (romantic comedy) in style and plotting (boy meets girl, boy loses girl, boy gets girl), the raunchcom fires up the titillating sizzle and the sly innuendo and lets loose in all its lewd vaudevillian splendor: Boy is unpleasantly raunchy, boy breaks through inner demons in moment of selfdiscovery and redemption, boy slips back into raunchy bliss with either pals or girlfriend in tow.

I suspect the force behind the raunch-com is producer/director/ writer Judd Apatow, who produced “Greek.” He realized those baby boomers among us, who were raised on “Playboy” and later tuned in regularly to “Desperate Housewives” and “The Bachelor,” are now eager for this kind of absurd adult humor on the big screen.

Apatow is more or less the John Hughes of the day. Where Hughes plugged into ’80s teenage angst and transferred it magically to the silver screen, Apatow has taken our prurient adult fantasies (c’mon, we’re all little kids inside, kicking and screaming to come out and play) and plastered them up there for all to see.

No, the raunch-com isn’t for everyone—I doubt you’ll find a fan base in, say, Macon County, Ga.—but here in that sunny playground we call Southern California, Apatow rarely misses a home run (but do leave the kids at home).

Apatow’s insanely heroic Everyboy of choice is British comedian Russell Brand, who pranced and pouted his way to fame as rock star Aldous Snow in Apatow’s “Forgetting Sarah Marshall.” Brand reprises the role here as the woman-craving, heroine-addled superstar, clinging to reality by the slimmest of threads.

Aaron Green (Jonah Hill) is a hapless record company intern who’s tasked to get Snow from London to L.A.’s Greek Theater for a monster concert. Of course, the barely cognizant Snow cheerfully thwarts him at every turn.

The fun here is in Snow’s affable ability to confound Green and in Green’s diffident ability to take the abuse. There’s not a malicious bone in this Snow’s capricious, sex-starved body (had he been malevolent or nasty the film wouldn’t have worked nearly as well), and thus “Greek” becomes a series of mostly hilarious unfortunate events (kind of like “Rain Man” without the solemnity) as the two eventually worm their way to America.

Yeah, the film is racy and quite funny, mostly in the first half—I found a bit of the third act bordering on too poignant, too morose. My wife, however, reminded me that growing up is often hard to do. What is it about women who want men to mature? I mean, sheesh.

And yes, an important ingredient of today’s successful raunch-com (from “Knocked- Up” to “The Hangover” to “Hot Tub Time Machine”) is the ability to self-explore and—eureka!— find oneself. There can be a happy-ever-after in the tortured male psyche, and even the most unabashedly juvenile among us can eventually nurture love and acceptance.

Call it Indian summer for baby boomers. Or, cinematically speaking, welcome to the age of the whoopee cushion.

“Splice”

Okay, so Clive and Elsa (Adrien Brody, Sarah Polley) are genetic engineers attempting to splice new strains of various animal DNA for their corporate sponsor (cha-ching!)— oh, and for the benefit of mankind, too. In the laboratory, they manage to concoct a new life form. (Ever see David Lynch’s “Eraserhead”? That kind of offspring.) But then Elsa and Clive break corporate rules by injecting human DNA into the mix. . . .

Out of the artificial womb pops Dren, momentarily cute and bunnylike but who rapidly grows, um, out of control. The adolescent Dren (Delphine Chanéac) soon learns human behavior and becomes somewhat fetching—a fact worth mentioning only because Clive begins to notice those pseudo-human feminine curves. But Elsa and Clive aren’t the best of parents, or scientists, and oh-so-quickly things go from bad to worse.

“Splice” begins as a potentially nifty “Frankenstein” update (with a touch of “The Island of Dr. Moreau”) but takes far too many unbelievable twists. For instance, Dren ends up in an abandoned farmhouse frolicking with the smitten Clive, who’s learned that Elsa’s mother was insane. Oh, and guess whose DNA Elsa used to create Dren? Yeah, and there’s a little soft-core bondage porn thrown in for . . . well, I’m not sure for what, but it’s there.

More sci-fithan horror (there’s little blood and, come to think of it, little tension), “Splice” seems to want to be a lot of things but never really points us in any particular direction. It’s oogy here and there and laughable elsewhere (where it shouldn’t be), so only the most curious of genre freaks need inquire further. “Splice” is the movie that might singlehandedly push stem cell research back a decade or two.