The demise of the one-liner might be the most overlooked tragedy in the hollows of modern cinema. The once reliable comfort of a good one-liner has — like Hollywood movies of the last fifteen years — become a cringe-inducing disappointment.

The torchbearer of the one-liner has been B-movie idol Bruce Campbell, the super-chinned wonder from the “Evil Dead” films. His latest film, “Bubba Ho-tep,” is a movie that seems to be comprised totally of one-liners — and not just in the dialogue.

Campbell is Elvis Presley, posing as Elvis impersonator Sebastian Haff in an East Texas retirement home. In the late ’70s the fame got to be too much for Elvis, and he decided to switch identities with the best working Elvis impersonator. Shortly after the switch, Haff died, thus killing the career of Elvis. And the real Elvis lost his identity papers in a freak grilling accident that destroyed his trailer home.

In the retirement home, Elvis befriends John F. Kennedy (Ossie Davis), who, following the assassination attempt in Dallas, had his brain replaced with a bag of sand (there’s a scar on his neck to prove it) and his skin dyed black because, honestly, how could you cover a conspiracy better than that?

Elvis and JFK both learn of an ancient Egyptian mummy who is haunting the halls of the home, including scrawling “Cleopatra does the nasty” on bathroom stalls in delicate hieroglyphics. The mummy is sucking the souls of the elderly, and it’s up to Elvis and JFK to overcome their differences (Marilyn Monroe?) and stop him.

Writer/director Don Coscarelli adapts cult author Joe R. Lansdale’s short story into this hodgepodge of comedy, B-movie horror and Hollywood melodrama. The humor is broad, from slapstick to profane fart jokes to subtle irony to possibly the best subtitles to ever grace a movie screen.

Coscarelli, best known for his never-ending “Phantasm” series, gives the proceedings some surprising meditations on aging. Such glossings are embodied by the film’s gentle treatment of Elvis’ much-lampooned final years and bookended by an out-of-left-field final scene that is surprisingly moving, although while it doesn’t gel at all with the rest of the film.

Campbell makes a fantastic Elvis, rising above the contrived plot with compelling earnestness. His one-liners rarely disappoint, and the humanity he instills in Elvis makes scenes involving a genital growth (named “Cilla,” after his wife) bearable. Most importantly, Campbell rises above the comic book character depth he usually displays. His Elvis is about as thoughtful a mummy-hunting interpretation of the King could be.

Davis does the same with JFK, particularly in the scenes he shares with Elvis. There’s a unique empathy between them, since Elvis really believes that Davis is JFK, and vice versa. To not believe in the other would be the same as not believing in themselves — about as close as “Bubba Ho-tep” comes to a conclusion on its identity crises.

A lot of the film is sloppy, particularly because jokes not involving Elvis or JFK are based entirely on cult film conventions that lower “Bubba Ho-tep’s” otherwise high production values (special effects of flying beetles excluded). “Bubba Ho-tep” feels surprisingly higher on the perceived Hollywood ladder of budgetary importance. But like its plot, the film is a mix of B-movie, independent film and major studio principles. These shifting moods make watching “Bubba Ho-tep” a clumsy, confusing process.

“Bubba Ho-tep” does, however, feature the best shot of the year: with the twanging of western guitar announcing imminent showdown, we see a dirty, empty retirement home hallway reeking of decay. Around the corner, in slow-motion, comes JFK, a black man in a wheelchair, focused on mummy murder. Ambling behind him, also in slow-mo, is Elvis Presley. He fumbles with his walker, his silver sequins reflecting around the hall. It’s an unforgettable image of two long-lost icons, near death but never relinquishing what originally made them gods among men. B-

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