There are no new tricks in “Old Dogs,” a cheesy chew-toy of a comedy about reluctant fatherhood.

Dan Rayburn (Robin Williams) is the buttoned-down half of a sports marketing company he started with his best friend from high school, Charlie Reed (John Travolta). After Dan’s divorce, Charlie drags him to Miami for a lighten-up weekend, where drunken Dan gets a misspelled tattoo — and a quickie marriage to a stranger named Vicki (Kelly Preston).

Although the marriage is soon annulled, seven years later, Vicki informs Dan that he is the father of fraternal twins Zach and Emily (Conner Rayburn and Ella Blue Travolta). Because Vicki’s been sentenced to two weeks in jail for a protest march, Dan agrees to look after the children he’s never met.

As the worrywart and his bachelor buddy try to corral the kids, high jinks ensue with a mechanical regularity that would be impressive if they were actually funny. When we see a ball, we know it's eventually going to hit somebody in the head or groin. When the partners have a big meeting with a prospective client from Japan, we know the kids are somehow going to gum it up. At a pancake house, the old dogs are mistaken for grandparents; at a scout camp, they are mistaken for gay lovers.

Whenever the predictable rhythms threaten to lull us to sleep, director Walt Becker (“Wild Hogs”) trots out another famous face for a cameo. But it’s cringe-inducing to see Ann-Margret in a scene where switched prescriptions cause a slapstick meltdown at a bereavement meeting and the late Bernie Mac using robotics to puppeteer Dan through a tea party with his daughter. After it’s exhausted every other gimmick, the movie tries to win our hearts. But “Old Dogs” is so oafish, when it tosses us a biscuit, it feels like we've been smacked with a newspaper.