Their movies are, at first glance, similar: profane but intrinsically sweet-natured comedies about doughy broheems orbiting one another, water bongs and adult life. Apatow’s boys are usually fringe geeks or happy outcasts (comedy nerds, career stoners), while Phillips’s characters are unhappy, neutered or denatured adults: dentists, stereo salesmen, sad-sack husbands and henpecked clods. In Apatow, the enemy is adulthood, which ruins life; in Phillips, the enemy is women, who ruin men.

What these auteurs truly have in common, though, is that they have systematically boiled away many of the pleasures previously associated with comedy — first among these, jokes themselves — and replaced them with a different kind of lure: the appeal of spending two hours hanging out with a loose and jocular gang of goofy bros. (Also: ritual humiliation. Humiliation is a big part of it, too.)

And these movies are often enjoyable. If you were to list your favorite comedies of the last five years, I bet at least three of either Apatow’s or Phillips’s films would make the list. Yet can you recall a single famous gag from any of these movies? What was the absolute most hilarious joke in “The Hangover”? (My informal straw poll suggests that it was Galifianakis’s mispronouncing “retard.”) Tellingly, the most quotable sequence from any Apatow movie is the “You know how I know you’re gay?” exchange between Seth Rogen and Paul Rudd in “The 40-Year-Old Virgin,” which was improvised on the sidelines, then stuck into the film, and which, trust me, does not benefit from being reproduced for posterity in print. Surely there must be at least one indelible gag, line, or scene from just one of these films? If there is, I can’t identify it, and don’t call me Shirley.

All modern movie comedies can be divided roughly into two categories: character-driven and joke-driven. The first category includes movies like “Beverly Hills Cop,” “Meet the Parents,” “Manhattan” and “The Hangover”; the second includes movies like “Austin Powers,” “Blazing Saddles,” “Bananas” and “Airplane!” The primary distinction lies in their respective relationship to reality. In character-driven comedies, funny people say funny things and fall into funny situations, but it’s all contained within the realm of plausible realism; nothing absurd or unbelievable occurs. Joke-driven comedies, by contrast, start with the absurd and unbelievable and go from there. Their jokes burst the boundaries of realism; in fact, they’re often about bursting the boundaries of realism. Character-driven comedy is Meg Ryan loudly faking an orgasm in a deli and an old woman saying, “I’ll have what she’s having”; joke-driven comedy is a woman (in “Top Secret”) being asked to translate a conversation and saying, “I know a little German,” then turning and waving at a midget in lederhosen.

On TV, you might define these styles as the difference between a sitcom like “Everybody Loves Raymond” and a sketch show like “Saturday Night Live” — or, in more contemporary terms, “Modern Family” versus “30 Rock.” (Part of the brilliance of “Modern Family” is its ability to infuse a sitcom formula with an antic, joke-driven energy that stays just this side of absurd.) In fact, sitcoms, in the last decade, have taken a hard turn toward absurdity: “30 Rock” and “Community” owe more to the spirit of “S.N.L.” and “The Simpsons” than they do to “Friends” or “Cheers.” Movies, meanwhile, have gone galloping, as a herd, in the other direction. The 1990s were dominated by the braying of Jim Carrey, the “Austin Powers” franchise and the eww-gross extremism of “There’s Something About Mary” — all films stuffed to the point of asphyxiation with blatant gags. On Sept. 28, 2001, Ben Stiller’s “Zoolander” was released, a still-underrated romp about male models, featuring Owen Wilson as a flake named Hansel and Will Ferrell as Mugatu, a clown-haired fashion designer. Not surprisingly, given the timing of its release, “Zoolander” tanked.