Mark Wahlberg and Paul Walter Hauser in Buddy Caper

Say what you will about Peter Farrelly, but he’s one filmmaker who hasn’t let an Oscar go to his head. In the years since his contentious Best Picture win for “Green Book,” Farrelly has shown only sporadic interest in chasing prestige. The lightweight Vietnam tale “The Greatest Beer Run Ever” was just vaguely aspirational, and the level of gilt on his upcoming Hollywood biopic “I Play Rocky” remains to be seen. But two years ago, the streaming comedy “Ricky Stanicky” returned him cheerfully to the lowbrow — and there he stays with “Balls Up,” another direct-to-Amazon throwback to the brand of coarse, chaotic humor on which Farrelly, with younger brother Bobby, made his name in the ’90s.

Whatever mucky kind of magic the duo had at their peak — back when “Dumb and Dumber” courted cult status and “There’s Something About Mary” crossed over from fratboy fare to date-night smash — is little in evidence in the elder Farrelly’s latest solo venture, but that’s no surprise. Even together, the brothers’ shtick felt played out by the time they co-directed the swiftly memory-holed sequel “Dumb and Dumber To” in 2014. With Farrelly this time ceding script duties to “Deadpool” team Rhett Reese and Paul Wernick, who roughly approximate the dick jokes and smutty cringe comedy of old, the Americans-abroad caper “Balls Up” has an air of tribute act about it, albeit with the director himself at the helm.

But that makes “Balls Up” sound worse than it is. A mostly pretty innocuous affair — give or take some par-for-the-course ethnic stereotyping and at least one close-up involving a prosthetic glans — it’s neither good nor bad to any memorable degree, not as riotous as it could have been but not devoid of low-hanging laughs either. It is, in other words, a down-the-middle streaming comedy, made and tooled for mass consumption if not any kind of enduring memory. That’s just fine, and also a little bit of a shame, since in Mark Wahlberg and Paul Walter Hauser, it happens upon a buddy-comedy pairing that might have had legs in the days when movies like this were made to fill multiplexes.

This isn’t a film of many clever ideas, but one is to cast the stars in a slightly scrambled variation on the “Planes, Trains and Automobiles” odd-couple dynamic: Wahlberg’s character looks to be the smooth operator but is in fact an oaf; Hauser’s lacks social skills but is the smarter and more sensible of the two. Those differences make them rivals at the condom manufacturing company where shy Elijah (Hauser) works as a product designer, and schmoozy Brad (Wahlberg) heads the sales division. The title refers to the former’s latest, inexplicably celebrated innovation, a rubber with full testicle coverage.

If “Balls Up” also alludes to the British slang phrase for a botched situation, that’s about as subtle as the film gets. Either way, botched situations are very much the order of the day here, as the pair initially win their company a lucrative sponsorship contract for the upcoming soccer World Cup in Brazil, only to lose it after a night’s ruinously hard partying with Santos (Benjamin Bratt), chief of the Brazilian delegation. (Actual soccer fans will remember that Brazil hosted the World Cup in 2014 and not, as the film would have it, 2025; anyone hoping for “Balls Up” to respectfully honor the beautiful game has tuned into the wrong movie.)

Fired and disgraced, Brad and Elijah are nonetheless presented with VIP tickets to the tournament final in Rio, where further drunken antics lead to the visitors crashing the pitch, obstructing a goal and costing the home country the title — an especially disruptive instance of Ugly American tourist behavior that immediately has an entire nation baying for the two men’s blood. Cue a protracted sequence of chases and captures that sees the hapless pair variously wriggling their way out of prison, the luxury rainforest compound of volatile cartel leader Pavio Curto (Sacha Baron Cohen, thickly accent and bewigged, as is his wont) and a remote commune of unexpectedly trigger-happy American environmentalists.

Farrelly directs all this to-and-fro in proficient but mostly impersonal fashion: The film moves around a whole lot without ever accruing much comic rhythm, much less a full head of crazed farcical steam. Reese and Wernick’s writing doesn’t have the antic, unhinged quality of prime Farrelly Brothers, and proceedings tend to be more divertingly busy than they are actively funny. Still, “Balls Up” occasionally scores high when it aims low. A fleeting sight gag — an ’80s-era print ad for condoms featuring Ted Danson — is the best joke here, while one notably stomach-churning gag mixing bodily functions with exotic predators follows in a proud Farrelly tradition.

Coming off a long streak of roles that have worked against his jockish charm, meanwhile, Wahlberg hits a fitting balance between amiable and obnoxious, and seems altogether more relaxed on screen than he has in some time. Perhaps because he and Hauser, deftly alternating between agitated straight man and shambling doofus, have the kind of broad comic chemistry that merits another outing — in a sharper project, one would hope, though not a more serious one.