Richard loves his wife but hates his sex life. Since marrying seven years ago, the number of times they've made whoopee roughly equals the number of kids' bedrooms (which is two). This should make Richard ripe for the advances of red-hot Nikki, and that should make for a Chris Rock comic vehicle. But instead, drama puts Rock between comedy and a hard place.

	Fox Searchlight Chris Rock is tempted by Kerry Washington in "I Think I Love My Wife." Click photo for larger image. 'I Think I Love My Wife' Starring: Chris Rock, Kerry Washington, Gina Torres, Steve Buscemi. Director: Chris Rock. Rating: R for pervasive language and some sexual content. Web site: www.foxsearchlight.com/ithinkilovemywife/

Being the director and co-writer as well as star of "I Think I Love My Wife," the Rocker has only himself to thank and blame for the fact that, for the first time in his film life, he isn't funny -- by intent.

Rock's Richard is a sharp New York investment banker, straitlaced in all things, including his marriage to Brenda (Gina Torres). She's a smart, foxy, motivated teacher, mother and wife -- everywhere but in the sack. They're seeing a sex therapist about it. Richard is faithful but bored. He's also rather henpecked, if we may employ that quaint sexist adjective. Which explains his obsessive-compulsive sexual fantasies about every woman he passes on the street or in the subway.

Enter Nikki (Kerry Washington), the ex-girlfriend of an old pal, who drops by his office to inject much-needed if not wanted excitement into his life. Pretty soon, she's dropping by regularly, attired in ever-more-provocative outfits covering ever less of her fab flesh, luring Richard into ever-more-romantic trysts that he must hide from Brenda.

But they never "do it." Richard never follows through on his afternoon delights, although his will is sorely tested, his office secretaries' tongues are wagging, his clients are being neglected and his work is suffering. It's the worst of both worlds: all of the guilt, with none of the sexual thrills.

With fellow comic and co-writer Louis C.K., Rock reworks the premise of Eric Rohmer's "Chloe in the Afternoon" (1972), the last of that French New Wave director's series of Six Moral Tales. The "dramatic tension," such as it is, concerns whether or not Richard will succumb to temptation, killing time until then with such improbable scenes as one in which Nikki tricks him into accompanying her on a flight to Washington, D.C., to move stuff out of her ex-boyfriend's apartment. (Needless to say, the guy arrives unexpectedly, a fight ensues, the cops arrive, etc.)

Some truly funny sequences involve the running gag of rappers on elevators, spewing F-words galore to the horror of other passengers. And the finale, parodying Peabo Bryson, is nice. But a condoms-in-the-drugstore joke (first recorded in the 17th century) and a Viagra sight-gag situation are moldy clunkers. And by and large, Chris is simply too calm, quiet and "normal" in general. Where's the mischievous beef? Fried away and drained, like grease, out of the dramatic patty.

Yuck, what a metaphor.

Gorgeous Washington -- so fine as Kay Amin in "The Last King of Scotland" -- is a serious seductress here, but her Nikki has no believable motivations or depth. Costumer Suzanne McCabe, on the other hand, has undeniable motivation (and success) with the terrific hoochie-mama clothes she puts on her.

Steve Buscemi is largely wasted in the lightweight role of Richard's best bud at the office, a married womanizer who gives him consistently good, hypocritical advice.

Give Chris Rock credit for trying to tackle the issues of marital fidelity "seriously" and, in passing, the use of the "N word." But his bottom-line moral is on the lame side: It's about those adorable kids and family values -- and all the other things that are more important in a happy marriage than sex.

Funny (or unfunny) thing about all those other things, though: He doesn't name 'em.