The thing that will likely jump out at Washtenaw County residents when watching “Youth in Revolt”’s locally filmed car (and trailer) explosion scene is the succession of red Brewer’s Towing signs — perhaps a too-fitting symbol for the city of Ann Arbor? — that appear as a car rolls down the hill on West Liberty Street; and in the scene’s final shot, the University of Michigan’s Burton Memorial Bell Tower looms above the skyline in the distance.

Locals may also recognize, in other scenes, Livingston County’s Bishop Lake, the back side of Brighton High School, and some local actors (like the late Randall Godwin).

Spotting these familiar sights is definitely fun, but ultimately, it’s only one of “Youth”’s subtle charms.

Michael Cera — whose small-frame lankiness, deadpan delivery and soft-featured face make him the perfect embodiment of adolescent vulnerability and longing in films — plays Nick Twisp, a hyper-literate, sexually frustrated son of divorced parents who are too busy satisfying the needs of their own partners to pay much attention to Nick.

But when Nick, his mother, and her boyfriend have to leave their Oakland, California home for a time, Nick meets film-savvy, vinyl-loving Francophile Sheeni (Portia Doubleday), with whom he falls in love. When Nick’s family returns to Oakland and the two are separated, Nick decides that he will do anything — with some guidance from his alternate, bad-boy persona, Francois Dillinger — to be with Sheeni.

Because Nick goes to extreme lengths to achieve his goal — using drugs to sabotage Sheeni’s educational aspirations, and manipulating a naïve, troubled girl to carry out his plan — Nick’s journey feels a tad skeevy and menacingly solipsistic at times, making it difficult to always root for him.

And moviegoers who are annoyed by “hipper-than-thou” screenplays that put uber-sophisticated dialogue in the mouths of adolescent characters (a la “Juno”) would do well to steer clear of “Youth.”

But if this doesn’t bother you, and you can get past the ethical minefields inherent in the plot, this raunchy-but-sweet teen sex comedy offers a number of raucously funny, laugh-out-loud moments. (Personally, I had a much better time watching it than I expected to.)

In a sense, of course, Michael Cera has always played variations of the same character, and his recent success is a testament to the likability of that established persona. So it’s compelling to watch him embody that character yet again while also working against type by way of Nick’s hedonistic, coolly removed and reckless alter ego, Francois. The range between the two isn’t as broad in tone as it could be, but Francois is precisely the alternate identity Nick would imagine for himself.

Actors in smaller roles, meanwhile, make some nice contributions to “Youth.” Fred Willard, as always, does a lot with a little, playing an eccentric activist neighbor; and Adhir Kalyan, playing Nick’s girl-hungry friend Vijay, makes a perfect partner-in-crime for Nick.

However, Justin Long, playing Sheeni’s perpetually strung-out older brother, seems nothing more than a vehicle to get characters high; and Sheeni’s supposed boyfriend Trent — played by Jonathan B. Wright (a Michigan native who got his break by starring as Hanschen in “Spring Awakening” on Broadway) — isn’t a remotely credible adversary. Nothing in the film suggests a bond, or even affection, between Trent and Sheeni, and Trent is too exaggeratedly buttoned down and stuffy to be believed, so he’s ultimately a far-too-easy straw man for Nick to knock down.

In the end, though, “Youth,” based on C.D. Payne’s cult hit novel, is a comically over-the-top exploration of the hubris we feel, usually for the last time, during adolescence. That naïve belief that we can freely manipulate and torch the world, without suffering any serious consequences, to achieve our own selfish ends and desires.

Revisiting this sensibility can be both a terrifying and exhilarating experience — but at least “Youth” invites you laugh along the way, too.

Jenn McKee is the entertainment digital journalist for AnnArbor.com. Reach her at jennmckee@annarbor.com or 734-623-2546, and follow her on Twitter @jennmckee.