Writer-director Shane Black first etched his name in Hollywood eminence by penning the screenplay for the quintessential buddy-cop flick, “Lethal Weapon.” Consequently, this genre may have rose and fell in the late ‘80s and early ‘90s with this series of films.

Now Black is back with “The Nice Guys.” It signifies a return to form for the buddy-cop maestro. And with a dynamic, charismatic pairing of Ryan Gosling and Russell Crowe, “The Nice Guys” singlehandedly reignites a formerly sputtering genre.

Gosling plays a depressed, bibulous private eye named Holland March. He’s surprisingly adept for being so utterly inept. He seems to stumble (sometimes literally) through the film’s 1970s-set murky neo-noir plot.

For instance, at a lavish, ostentatious party—the kind germane to free love of the ’70s—Holland tumbles over a balcony and somersaults down a hill, inertia halting him near a big break in a case. His plummet is the result of a drunken display of his acting abilities meant to enchant a young, beautiful partygoer.

Thankfully, though, Holland’s ineptitudes aren’t the sole object of hilarity. The character avoids being an ongoing gag like an Inspector Clouseau. His serendipitous detective work is instead melded seamlessly with the character’s idiosyncrasies.

The film’s narrative is the kind that doesn’t matter much. It follows the archetypal noir stylings of a femme fatale, hired thugs and institutional corruption. The plot, simply speaking, is the center of gravity. It binds our nice guys together, giving them a reason to bicker, grow and shoot things.

The eponymous duo unite shortly after Holland is hired to track down a girl named Amelia (Margaret Qualley). Coincidently, Crowe’s portly hard-bitten enforcer-for-hire, Jackson Healy, is hired by Amelia to run Holland off her trail.

Jackson makes good on Amelia’s request, punctuating the deed by breaking Holland’s arm.

However, after two hired guns, aptly named Blue Face (Beau Knapp) and Older Guy (Keith David), attack Jackson in his home and probe him about Amelia’s whereabouts, Jackson reneges his promise to Amelia and coerces Holland into helping him find Amelia.

What follows is a meandering cat-and-mouse plot that places Gosling and Crowe’s palpable chemistry front and center. However, Crowe’s presence in this film feels wasted at times but, thankfully, never needless. It is often overshadowed by Gosling’s uproarious wit and delivery. It’s not Crowe’s fault. It’s a hitch in the screenplay and direction.

And you can’t help but root for Gosling’s ham-fisted sleuth. Gosling renders a character that’s as easy to laugh at as he is to sympathize with—a far-off departure from his reticent, stoic role in 2011’s “Drive.”

Fortunately, Black recognizes the star power he has before him. He remains quietly behind the camera. He’s never overly stylish—no small feat in a film dripping with 1970s décor, music and fashion. He just points, shoots and lets his actors have fun.

One of the picture’s big surprises is Angourie Rice playing Holland’s daughter, Holly. Her character creates an interesting dynamic intersecting Holland’s questionable professional morality and Jackson’s brutality.

Holly grounds the film as the pair’s proxy conscience, and her deft gumshoeing helps propel the narrative forward. Not only that, but she also serves as Holland’s designated driver. Rice is given a lot to do, and the teenage actress nails every scene.

“The Nice Guys” flies. It’s the kind of movie that knows what it is and gets right to it. It’s not didactic. It’s not percolating with themes. Every scene is fraught with entertainment and mirth. It seems as if Black is snapping his fingers behind the camera, keeping the movie rolling with satisfying rhythmic energy.

Simply put, “The Nice Guys” is a riotous detective romp. It’s a synthesis of bullets, charisma and dark comedy that’s as sharp as it is droll.