Friday, February 17, 2012

[Freya-dæg] When Love Hurts

Mike Myers' movies aren't necessarily the most high concept films around. Nor are they always the most original. But it's definitely a low mark when one of his movies takes gross-out comedy so far that it becomes hard to watch. The Love Guru is just such a Myers' movie.

It's only an hour and a half long but, because of all of the gross-out comedy, it's difficult to get involved with the story, characters, or dialog.

In fact, it felt like a three hour flick rather than the quick 90 minute fluff that Myers' generally produces. What's worse though, is that the story itself is so clearly defined and straightforward that it should be more difficult to throw the movie from its track.

The movie follows Guru Pitka (Mike Myers) who comes over from India to help a star player on the Toronto Maple Leafs (Darren Roanoke, played by Romany Malco). Setting the movie in Toronto is one of a few nods in the flick to Myers' Canadian origins, one of the few things in the film that work. At any rate, Pitka helps the player out so that he can get a spot on Oprah and become "the next Deepak Chopra."

The plot is made even simpler by its being given a Stanley Cup playoff time-frame, which at the least assures viewers that the movie has a definite end.

Characters like Guru Pitka and his master (played by Ben Kingsley) are indeed characters, and they embellish this otherwise plain story. But their embellishment is in shades of brown rather than shades of grey.

The rest of the cast is relatively lackluster. There are some exceptions, but I need an ace in the hole to give this one a chance at redemption, so I'll return to that later.

The core issues with this movie are that it constantly resorts to graphic, low brow humour that at points is truly gag-worthy (a fight using mops soaked in urine, for example) and an overall lack of subtlety.

Of course, these two things are generally staples of Mike Myers' movies. The exception with The Love Guru is that for some reason they're both served up in such grandiose proportions that it's difficult to figure out why or to get past them to the simple, lightly feel-good story.

But so little time spent on the bad, must mean that there are a lot of redeeming qualities here, right? Well, in a way.

I can name all of the good things about this movie off in a single list, actually: Stephen Colbert, Justin Timberlake, John Oliver, and Ben Kingsley. Yeah. That's right, Ben Kingsley. I'm not incredibly familiar with his career, and appearing here as Pitka's master may have been a move to play off type, but still. I was flummoxed when I saw him in this film. Flummoxed.

Now, of these four exceptional actors, Kingsley, Colbert (as Jay Kell), and Timberlake (as Jacques Grande) all played their parts exceedingly well. It's clear that despite the terribleness of the film otherwise, they were having fun doing it. But John Oliver (as Dick Pants) seemed to be phoning it in.

In all of his scenes I got the impression that Oliver just didn't want to be there. In fact, it seemed as though he'd gotten a call from Mike Meyers about a movie, got so excited that he didn't read the script and accepted without any hesitation only to realize what he had inextricably gotten himself into well after it was too late to back out.

That said, these four actors really do make the movie glow when they're on screen, even if those glows may be brief or very well-basted in silliness.

Actually, those four actors might also be what's wrong with this movie. They wouldn't have come cheap, and neither would the movie's special effects. These effects are concentrated in a scene where Mike Myers' head is smoothly CGI-ed onto a child's body and another where a third eye opens up on Darren's forehead in a very organic and nicely done way.

Not to mention, they must've spent a fair bit buying cover licenses for the three pop songs performed on sitar (though all of these are are definite highlights).

A lack of money in the film's account by the end, or maybe even before filming really hit its stride is clear in camerawork that makes some scenes look almost handy-cam quality. Editing must have also taken a hit since there a few jerky cuts between scenes that are no doubt where the deleted bits are included in the "uncut" version.

In spite of all this, there were a few laughs here and there. The words of Guru Hathasmalvena cracked me up as only syphilitic ramblings can. And some of the guru's book titles were ridiculous self-help parodies, but by the movie's half-way point all of the funny jokes run their course.

Though the line "keep the elephant running," might just stick with me for a while.

But context- or subtext-reliant lines and jokes are as sparse in this film as all-beef burger stands in New Delhi.

Surprisingly however, the romance aspect of the film involving Darren Roanoke and his estranged wife Prudence (Meagan Good) is played well and produces a surprisingly tender moment. Of course, this is buried under the rest of the film's scatological and penis jokes.

Colbert, Timberlake, Kingsley, Oliver, a joke voice-over by Morgan Freeman, and a cameo appearance by Daniel Tosh are all well and good, but these talents are better showcased in other things (like Oliver in The Bugle, for instance). Waiting through the movie to spot these actors, and the few effective moments would be tiresome rather than entertaining.

Critics on Rotten Tomatoes panned it (15%), audiences weren't much pleased (38%), and Harry Knowles (of Ain't it Cool News) even said that this movie is a career killer for Myers. And, I just can't find enough to really bring it back.

The Love Guru's got an amazing cast in many respects, a handful of actually tender or funny moments, some pretty impressive effects, and cool sitar pop song covers, but they're all bound together with a script that cripples the lot and a story that is just a vehicle for scatological jokes and bawdy puns.

Freya, leave this one where it lay - and, if you touched it, you should definitely wash your hands.

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