Small Time Crooks: comedy. Starring Woody Allen, Tracey Ullman, Hugh Grant, Elaine May, Jon Lovitz, Michael Rapaport and Tony Darrow. Written and directed by Woody Allen. Rated PG. Now playing at Bay Area theaters.

Director Woody Allen aimed for comedy in his latest effort, a farce about a down and out couple with petty-crime-ridden backgrounds who hit it big in the legit business world by accident. No critic will be able to use the words "poignant" or "tender" when describing this film - it promises little in the way of depth. But when you do comedy, you might as well do it right, and Allen has shown once again who the master is.

Here's the story: ex-con Ray Winkler (Allen) and his ex-stripper wife, Frenchy (Tracey Ullman) start the evening like any other - with an affectionate knock down drag out fight. Ray, uninspired by the dishwashing profession, tells Frenchy of a failsafe plan he and his buddies have devised to help them escape their dreary dead-end existences to a life of poolside cocktails in Miami Beach. The objective? To rob a Manhattan bank by tunneling under a nearby shop for rent. The obstacles? They must sink their life savings into the first month's rent, and Frenchy will have to front the operation by running a cookie business in the new space. Frenchy puts up a gallant fight, hurling insults that would make most men dive under sturdy furniture clutching desperately at their egos. However, she finally gives in to Ray's charm.

So Frenchy and her cousin May (Elaine May) bake up a storm in the new shop, while Ray and his buddies (Jon Lovitz and Michael Rapaport) create havoc with power tools in the basement - a heartwarming nod to typical American existence.

Sadly, the bank heist is less than successful. But Frenchy - who has become the cookie-peddling counterpart to the Seinfeld character "The Soup Nazi" - is lining them up outside the door for a taste of her creations. So the couple and their esteemed associates settle happily into the franchise business, and promptly get fat on their baking empire. But, one asks, can money buy happiness?

Small Time Crooks isn't as celebrity studded as some of Allen's recent films. Hugh Grant shows up as an impeccably mannered gold digger, who gives Frenchy lessons in culture and human nature. But the film's other actors are not those you'll generally see gracing the cover of In Style Magazine, which is refreshing.

Elaine May and Michael Rapaport deserve honorable mentions for their seamless portrayals of loveable dimwits, (although Rapaport seems to be making a career out of this role). And Ullman is positively inspired as the sarky ex-stripper with a yearning for a more cultured existence.

Allen is good at depicting the populations at the top and bottom of Manhattan's class divide, and equally good at making fun of both of them. Ray and his friends are basically dumber than sin - the three stooges would show more stealth and cunning in the bank robbery racket. And the upper social echelon they eventually mingle with exhibits no deeper understanding of life.

The plot is hilarious, but we ultimately discover that attaining nouveau-riche status has its downside (note moral of the story). You can buy all of the antique harps and fiber-optically-lit rugs in the universe, but you can't buy your way into high society. Said differently, you can take the ex-stripper outa Jersey, but you can't take the Jersey outa the ex-stripper.