"This isn’t a comic book; this is real life!"

This line and its variations get uttered seemingly every 15 minutes in "Kick-Ass 2." And every time a character would say it, I was baffled.

Which real life is this? The one where adrenaline is a mystical green substance that serves essentially as a video game power-up, granting super speed and strength? The one where a lawn mower is flung through a police car windshield, massacring the two officers inside (for your entertainment, of course)? A universe in which the Plastics from "Mean Girls," cranked up to their cattiest, get their comeuppance by being forced to simultaneously projectile vomit and poop in the middle of the lunchroom?

I don’t know, guys. This sounds just as ridiculous as the comic book world you’re desperately trying to tell me you’re definitely not in. I think your "reality" might need a reality check.

To be fair, the first "Kick-Ass" back in 2010 had the same problem. But then-director Matthew Vaughn brought a stylishly energetic flair, a gleefully go-for-it cast and a darkly giddy sense of anarchy to the project. In the end, it was more interested in having some crazy fun, and with Vaughn (and his co-writer Jane Goldman) confidently in charge, it was hard not to hop aboard.

What was once fun in Vaughn’s hands, however, has turned ugly and mean-spirited in "Kick-Ass 2." If "Kick-Ass" was a spirited, invigorating kick in the rear, round two is a rough kick to the teeth, complete with an ensuing bad taste in my mouth.

Four years after the events of the first film, Dave (Aaron Taylor-Johnson) is trying to get back into Kick-Ass shape with the help of now 15-year-old Mindy McCready, aka the viciously capable superhero Hit-Girl (Chloe Grace Moretz, still the sweet and sour highlight of the series). Mindy’s cop/replacement father (Morris Chestnut), however, wants no more of her costumed vigilantism and forces her to actually go to school, where she’s embraced – and soon embarrassed – by the aforementioned tarted-up "Mean Girls" takeoffs.

Meanwhile, Dave gets accepted into a rag-tag Justice League of makeshift heroes, led by a born again former mob enforcer named Colonel Stars and Stripes (an almost unrecognizable Jim Carrey, who’s publicly distanced himself from the hyper-violent film after the events at Sandy Hook).

They arrive just in time, as Red Mist (Christopher Mintz-Plasse, mostly known as McLovin) – Kick-Ass’ nemesis from the first film – has wrapped himself in his dead mother’s S&M gear, rebranded himself as The Mother F*cker and become the world’s first supervillain, complete with a band of fellow evil psychos. Their first act of business? Get revenge on Kick-Ass.

Vaughn’s slick style from the first film has been replaced with a workman-like competence, courtesy of new writer-director Jeff Wadlow of "Never Back Down." Despite a lack of tempo, he’s got a decent bit of touch when it comes to the action sequences, namely a climactic brawl between heroes and villains.

His touch, however, is hard to appreciate when the rest of the film lacks any grace. Dave’s annoying voiceover (with all of the clever humor from before removed) is amped up this time around, blurting out themes and explaining what a visual medium should be able to show.

Meanwhile, being witty and subversive has translated into blindly throwing profanity, blood and taboos at a wall to see what sticks. A fair amount of the jokes still hit. There’s a fairly amusing bit involving a shark in villains’ lair. Also: a spot-on parody of One Direction (a parody that's apparently a real band. Could've fooled me). In general, though, it’s more immature, crass and just not as consistently sharp.

That’s not even close to the script’s worst offense, though. If the first film was an uneasy but in the end successful tonal balancing act, "Kick-Ass 2" ends up a mess, sprawled on the floor. While the first "Kick-Ass" barely kept a foot in the real world (even the production design was filled with unnaturally bright colors), part two just can’t stop trying to remind the audience that we’re in the real world.

The result is an uncomfortable collision of grim seriousness and crude ridiculousness. And since the tone is all over the place, it’s not dramatic, funny, shocking or merely entertaining. Just awkward.

It wants to be about the consequences of violence (executive producer and the comic’s author Mark Millar’s defense after Carrey backed away from the film), while also celebrating its bloody awesomeness. So Wadlow ends up with a movie where an innocent character’s horrible torture and death exist in the same movie as an explosion of CGI diarrhea and puke. A movie where that character’s tragic funeral is almost immediately interrupted by a massive highway fight scene, complete with profane wisecracks and gruesome vehicular manslaughters.

Wadlow also revels in watching a villainous Russian maniac (Olga Kurkulina) brutally dispatch almost a dozen cops, losing sight of the fact that it is an objectively terrible thing. This is also intercut with an attempted brutal rape that turns into an erection joke. It’s a scene so ill-conceived and mishandled, it has the power to taint an entire film.

In other misogyny news, most of the female characters are limited to shrill, oversexed harpies (the cliché high school clique, Red Mist’s quickly eliminated mom). Even Dave’s old girlfriend (Lyndsy Fonseca) is given barely ten seconds, most of which are spent breaking up with Dave over an overblown rom-com misunderstanding.

She’s immediately replaced by a fellow female superhero named Night B*tch (Lindy Booth), who exists solely as the rebound girlfriend for Dave and later the victim of a beating and potential rape. Her character’s treatment tragically fits with Millar’s recent statements about seeing rape as essentially just another plot device.

And of course, they’re all leeringly over-sexualized in either short skirts or, in Night B*tch’s case, a top made of essentially a glittery bra. In case you’re wondering, all of the guys are in saggy body suits. Even Mindy, the lone female character of note, is sexualized, though at least that fits into her storyline about growing up and finding out about herself. Maybe I wouldn’t raise such a dubious eyebrow if it wasn’t surrounded by so much other exploitation. And if she wasn’t 15.

The main pleasure – the saving grace, really – to be gleaned from "Kick-Ass 2" is the cast, who still has the energy and spirit of the first film. Taylor-Johnson is fine, but Moretz is still electric on screen, slinging both blades and barbed zingers. It helps that she gets the best action scenes and lines.

Mintz-Plasse, decked out in heavy eye-liner and a flimsy goatee, is clearly embracing being full-on, shoutingly evil. The script’s most humorous moments tend to be when he’s ineptly trying to be the supervillain of his dreams (until it goes too far with the rape sequence).

Despite his role adding up to little more than an extended cameo, Carrey steps nicely into the "veteran amusingly hamming it up" role vacated by Nicolas Cage in the last film. Several of the bit roles – namely the returning Clark Duke and Donald Faison of "Scrubs" – are quite funny as well.

With the cast’s help and a smattering of stimulating action, "Kick-Ass 2" occasionally recaptures the over-the-top twisted fun of its predecessor. But then somebody yells "This isn’t a comic book," and it attempts to have it both ways. The result is something like those drawings of what famous cartoon characters would look like in real life: Not quite real, not quite a cartoon, but mostly quite unpleasant.