He got away with the self-approval shtick in past films because they were funny--but it doesn't work this time. After an amusing start, The Love Guru starts sputtering and winds up limping to its end credits. By the time the film was over, I was happy that I would never have to endure this nightmarish concoction again.
Austin Powers and Wayne of Wayne's World occupied universes that made sense for them. This Guru Pitka character makes no sense whatsoever. He's just an excuse for Myers to tell cock jokes, show elephants humping and, yes, laugh at himself. I guess he's supposed to be spoofing Deepak Chopra and Gandhi, but Guru Pitka really comes off more like the Cat in the Hat sans makeup. I remember being frightened while watching Cat in the Hat, and I pretty much felt the same way here.
I confess that the film had me laughing out loud when a young Pitka (a brilliant usage of CGI to make Myers a pre-teen) proclaimed that he wanted to be a guru so girls will like him. It was here that I was thinking, "Say, this looks like it's going to be fun!" Then the Guru gets hired by the Toronto Maple Leafs owner to get their star player (Romany Malco) back with his wife so he'll cheer up, and the team can win the Stanley Cup. Granted, taking a guru guy and putting him out of his element could be funny if the guru weren't so bloody annoying.
Myers makes himself up in a stupid beard and wig, and tops it off with a fat nose. (Note to Myers: If that nose in the film is not a prosthetic and is, in fact, your own fat nose, I sincerely apologize. Your movie sucks, but that doesn't grant me the right to make fun of your big fat nose.) He speaks in a sort of low nasal drone that wears on you little by little, to the point that you would rather stuff WhoppersTM malted balls in your ears rather than listen to him.
The Maple Leafs owner is played by Jessica Alba, a sweet actress who, once again, finds herself trudging through cinematic shit. Why can't Alba get into a decent film other than Sin City? She's not necessarily a major talent, but she is better than the stuff her agent is getting her. Seriously: This is Hollywood's most cursed actress.
Justin Timberlake, he of "Dick in a Box" fame, plays Jacques Grande, owner of the world's biggest wang. Timberlake cracked my ass up on Saturday Night Live, but he miserably failed to make me laugh this time. Every moment he occupied the screen, I chastised myself for ever thinking he was funny, which annoyed the folks sitting next to me, for I was speaking aloud.
Seriously: If you are going to make a movie in which the central character is an egotistical asshole who is drooling all over Hollywood's prettiest people and constantly commenting on the state of his crotch, just make another Austin Powers movie. Hell, this movie even has Verne Troyer (Mini-Me) running around in it.
Actually, the box office doesn't look too promising for this puppy, so Austin Powers 4 probably just got moved up a peg on Mike's "Things to Do" list. Let's hope that list doesn't include another visit with Guru Pitka. Take another big break, Mike, and come back with something less insulting next time.