The Love Guru – a review
July 21st 2008 22:05
You know the premise unless you’ve been on another planet: Mike Myers plays a hairy publicity-hungry spiritual enlightenment expert, Pitka. His story began when he was left at the gates of an ashram in India as a child. He was raised by gurus, in particular the uncomfortably-cross-eyed Guru Tugginmypudha (Ben Kingsley) who enjoys pouring tea through his nostrils in a neti pot style. He uses urine-drenched mops to dispense spiky words of wisdom. And yes, you have the say the name out loud to get the joke.
Myers moves back to the U.S. to seek fame and fortune in the world of self-help and spirituality. Ensconced in America, Pitka churns out a steady stream of self-help guides with titles like, ‘I Know You Are, but What Am I?’ and ‘If You're Happy and You Know It, Think Again’. Myers’ specialty is finding self-absorbed, spiritual truths in everyday expressions, for example: ‘Intimacy’ becomes ‘Into Me I See’. He has an acronym for every occasion, complete with cheesy emphatic facial expressions. These narcissistic revelations and acronyms made me snort with laughter.
Pitka’s ‘skills’ are tested when he must settle a rift between hockey player Darren Roanoke (Romany Malco) and his estranged wife (Meagan Good). Out of revenge, Roanoke’s wife starts dating L.A. Kings star Jacques Grande (Justin Timberlake), which ruins Roanoke’s concentration making him play poorly. Pitka’s delicate task is to return the couple to marital nirvana and get Roanoke back on his game so the team can break the 40-year-old ‘Bullard Curse’ and win the Stanley Cup. If Pitka succeeds, this will help him become more well-known and hopefully end up on Oprah’s famous bum-eroded sofa.
The film has an abundance of famous yet almost unnecessary names. Timberlake is a flamboyant, heavily-accented comic actor. Alba is Pitka's love interest giggles who titters and twitters inanely at his flat jokes. Her laughter is so badly timed that it appears to have been cut in after the fact. Again, Alba shows she's a visually appealing counterpart with limited acting skills.
Before seeing the film, we have an idea of which tools of his trade Myers will use: the usual farty toilet jokes, penis references, double entrendres, but this time involving elephants, midgets and the odd colourful, hand-gesturing Bollywood sequence.
Many aspects of the reviews are right; the film is a mish-mash, the scenes are messy and often seemingly unlinked. There are only a few funny jokes underneath the heavy blanket of obvious, overused jokes. Yet, despite these major flaws, I guffawed more than expected. The humour is visual and verbal, and playfully silly. The appealing thing about Mike Myers and the comedy he writes is that it's amiable. Maybe it was the mood I was in, but I found it hard not to appreciate some of his hardy and infectious efforts. The film was just too good-natured to incur my long-term wrath.
Many thanks to Paramount Pictures for my invite and ticket.
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