In these dog days of summer, Hollywood usually does its worst (I’m talking about you The Mortal Instruments). To my surprise, a diamond has emerged from the gutter. Its name is The World’s End, and it’ll knock you on you ass from laughing when you’re not rubbing your eyes in disbelief. What’s it about? That’s tricky. It’s about five fortysomething Brit losers who decide to complete some unfinished business. Actually it’s Gary (Simon Pegg), manic in the extreme and still wearing his long coat and Sisters of Mercy T-shirt, who decides for his old school chums. Real-estate agent Oliver (Martin Freeman), married car salesman Peter (Eddie Marsan), and divorced construction boss Steven (Paddy Considine) merely go along. Hardass lawyer Andrew (Nick Frost) is dead set against it. But Gary prevails. The Five Muskeeters of old will indeed the complete the Golden Mile, swilling pints of beer at every one of the 13 pubs in their home town of Newton Haven. Back in 1990, they quit at the sixth pub, never making it to the last stop at The World’s End. Jeez, I know what you’re thinking: Why should I spend two hours watching five aging, self-pitying laddies crying in their beer? Look, I can’t say much. Spoiling the secrets of this movie is a no-no. I can say that these five actors are sheer comic perfection. I can point out that director Edgar Wright (Scott Pilgrim vs. the World) achieves just the right balance between fun and funnier. And I can add that the delicious Rosamund Pike, who just got the lead with Ben Affleck in David Fincher’s Gone Girl, shows up to ignite sparks with Gary and Steven. But the best I can do without being accused of ruining the surprise is to remind you that Frost and screenwriters Wright and Pegg also joined twisted forces on 2004’s Shaun of the Dead (zombiefest) and 2007’s Hot Fuzz (gorefest), two films that traveled quite a distance from the natural order. OK, now I’ll shut up, except to say that The World’s End is better than all right. It’s the shit.