‘Entourage’ movie not necessary

“Entourage” is the uninvited dinner guest who then insists on sticking around long after the party’s over.

It’s based on the often amusing inside-Hollywood HBO series about a rising star who keeps his childhood posse as a bubble, protecting him from the sharks, clingers, wannabes and hangers-on who populate the movie business. The series wrapped in 2011 and no one, near as we can tell, felt that it required further wrapping up.

But that’s just what this movie, inspired by producer Mark Wahlberg’s experience of showbiz, does. It wraps up things we thought were tied up with a nice, dull bow.

So star Vincent Chase (Adrian Grenier) recovers from his quickie divorce by deciding what he really wants to do is direct and star in a futuristic “Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” to be titled “Hyde.”

It’ll be a challenge for him, and a big break for lout of an older half-brother, “Johnny Drama” (Kevin Dillon), whom he’ll give a juicy supporting role.

But his childhood pal turned personal manager “E” (Eric), played by Kevin Connolly, is too distracted to ensure this package comes off, as his ex-girlfriend Sloan (Emmanuelle Chriqui) is pregnant. And being something of an L.A. power now, E is a magnet for the hot women he and his mates pursue with a still-sophomoric vigor.

It’s up to super agent-with-anger-issues Ari Gold (Jeremy Piven) to come out of retirement, take over a studio and green light “Hyde.” If only he can keep the Texas financier (Billy Bob Thornton) who owns a chunk of the picture out of the picture.

To say nothing of that Texan’s drawling rube of a skirt-chasing-“I know the movie business” son, played with a sort redneck savant glee by Haley Joel Osment.

These two are what finally make the still-twitchy but supposedly mellowed Ari return to rageaholic form. There’ll be no “kowtowing to cow tippers” on his watch, he fumes, even if he knows “what they do to Jews in Texas.”

Everything you need to know about the movie is in the newcomers who steal it. Osment and Thornton are a hoot, Connolly, Dillon, Grenier and Jerry Ferrara aren’t. They’re playing older versions of the same shallow hounds they always were.

Writer-director Doug Ellin may have caught on that the jokes, structure and cast that kept this show on cable simply aren’t enough to fill up the big screen. He fills every outdoor, party and restaurant shot with eye candy - legions of L.A.’s most gorgeous female extras, fresh temptations for the entourage.

The observations about the business are on the money, but they pretty much exhausted those in the series.