The ensemble comedy Bridesmaids features a cast of comediennes including, from left, Maya Rudolph, Kristen Wiig and Ellie Kemper. (Suzanne Hanover/Universal)

Take a look at Judd Apatow's tweet stream lately and you can see the mega producer seems a little worried men will write off Bridesmaids as a chick flick. But Apatow shouldn't fret. Sure, any movie that is centered around the relationship between the bride and her best friend leans a little heavily to those with two X chromosomes, but there are also enough cover-your-face, oh-my-god-she-didn't moments to satisfy the dudes who enjoyed The Hangover.

Which is fine because -- among other reasons -- it means Kristen Wiig finally gets to carry a film on her own. Wiig's made a name for herself on Saturday Night Live with characters that range from Midwestern maniacs to a painfully shy motormouth. Perhaps it was Wiig's flair for the unusual, that spastic energy of hers, that scared producers away. Luckily, Apatow recognized in her the same quality that Steve Carrell, Seth Rogen and Will Ferrell also share: the very oddness that makes them comedic killers also makes them approachable and instantly puts the audience on their side.

Kristen Wiig and Chris O'Dowd flirt in a scene from Bridesmaids. (Suzanne Hanover/Universal)

Although the title and the trailers suggest a film about a gaggle of gals partying down in Las Vegas, Bridemaids is more the story of Annie (Wiig), who is chosen by her best friend Lillian (the under-appreciated Maya Rudolph) as maid of honour. This so-called honour is just the latest cross Annie must bear in her sad sack life. Her cake business went bust. She shares an apartment with a creepy British brother and sister duo. Her own love life is a disastrous dichotomy between Jon Hamm as a classless horndog and Chris O'Dowd as the charming police officer named Rhodes.

O'Dowd, whom you may have seen in the British sitcom The IT Crowd, has a plummy Irish accent and easily seduced the mostly-female audience around me. I haven't heard a collective "awwwww" like that since I watched the documentary Babies.

Much of Bridesmaids falls into two categories. First, there are the Hangover-for-the-ladies segments where the bridal party bond while things get messy and funny fast. A now-seemingly ubiquitous, gross-out comedy staple arrives when the ladies suffer a case of food poisoning while in a chic dress shop.

But then there's the other side of the film, the part that Apatow seems afraid might scare away the menfolk. The crux of Bridesmaids is Annie's relationship with Lillian, which is threatened by Helen (Rose Byrne), a rich, prissy and perfect new friend. Portraying Annie trying to keep her aggression in check while Helen swans about gives Wiig some of her best material. Keep your eyes peeled for Annie's gleeful smirk when Helen breaks into tears. A micro-flash of mirth, followed by a mask of shallow concern. Cruelly hilarious.

Actress Melissa McCarthy shines as Megan in Bridesmaids. (Suzanne Hanover/Universal)

Interestingly, the most confident character in the bridal party is the Rubenesque Megan, played by Melissa McCarthy. Megan's a gal with a big appetite for life, who saunters across the screen with no apologies. Just as The Hangover helped launch hipster lumberjack Zach Galifianakis, here's hoping we see whole lot more of McCarthy. (Quick note: the actor who plays Megan's seatmate on a flight to Vegas is her real-life husband, Ben Falcone.)

So, let me end the suspense: yes, Wiig can certainly carry a film. Like SNL veteran Will Ferrell, she has a talent for extreme behaviour rooted in insecurity. She's the smart gal you want to root for. Considering Wiig co-wrote and produced Bridesmaids, it's also surprising just how far she forces her character to fall. As always in a Apatow comedy, humiliation = humour and there's a lot of both in Bridesmaids.

RATING: Slightly predictable, but painfully funny, Bridemaids rates three-and-a-half tacky purple dresses out of five.