Bad karma

The Love Guru
Review by Nathan Weinbender

“The Love Guru” is an abysmal comedy, and it’s made all the more depressing because it has Mike Myers at its helm. Here is the case of a funny, intelligent writer trying to appeal to the lowest common denominator, wallowing in cheap scatological gags and scummy bathroom humor that, as far as I can tell, only a fourteen-year-old boy could appreciate.

What possessed Myers to write this movie? What made him think anyone would find it funny? Disillusionment, I suppose. In the span of 90 minutes, it assaults us with bad puns, double entendres, weird pop culture references and beleaguered jokes about every bodily function imaginable, none of which are the least bit amusing. It contains sequences so stupid, disgusting and misguided they had me pining for the scene in the second “Austin Powers” film where a stool sample is mistaken for a cappuccino.

Myers, who has played some brilliant comic characters in the past, here plays Guru Pitka, who will, I can safely say, not be remembered as one of his finer creations. Pitka is an expert on the ways of love, and his routine consists of spouting off goofy mantras and making acronyms out of unlikely words (he wants people to experience intimacy, or “into-me-I-see”).

In hopes of cementing his reputation as the world’s foremost self-help authority (he’s second to Deepak Chopra), he is recruited to jump-start the failed relationship of the Toronto Maple Leafs’ star player (Romany Malco). If he succeeds, the team will likely win the Stanley Cup, and Pitka himself will land a coveted spot on Oprah’s TV show.

There are a few supporting characters designed to divert us from the paper-thin plot, but they’re given very little to do. Jessica Alba is badly miscast as the owner of the Leafs, who, through a series of ridiculous plot machinations, falls in love with Pitka. Justin Timberlake plays an often-shirtless French-Canadian goalie named Jacques “Le Coq” Grande—an apt nickname, considering the unzipping of his pants is always accompanied by a loud “thud.” Timberlake has so much fun with the role you’ll wish he had a better dialect coach and a stronger script to work with.

And Ben Kingsley, in what appears to be an attempt to have his Academy Award officially revoked, plays Pitka’s cross-eyed spiritual advisor, the unfortunately-named Guru Tugginmypudha of Harenmakeester. At one point, he orders his students to fight one another with mops soaked in his own urine. Mahatma Gandhi he ain’t.

All of this, I suppose, could have been the groundwork for a solid comedy, or for a parody of Hinduism, Bollywood musicals, professional sports or our obsession with self-help therapy. But “The Love Guru” falls victim to its own puerile inclinations, draining the premise of any possible wit and replacing it with tired gags involving erections, flatulence, oral sex, manure and elephant copulation.

Mike Myers is a great comic mind; he has made some good films in the past and no doubt has other good ones in him. The first installments of the “Wayne’s World” and “Austin Powers” series were terrific, and they benefited from the discipline, intellect and wicked satire that “The Love Guru” greatly needs. Guru Pitka himself is a pathetic character, and Myers seems to know it, as he spends most of the film mugging and straining for laughs. He’s like a desperate stand-up comedian who applies silly accents and facial tics to distract the audience from his own lousy material.

Grade: D-

Directed by Marco Schnabel. Written by Mike Myers and Graham Gordy. Starring Mike Myers, Jessica Alba, Justin Timberlake, Romany Malco, Verne Troyer, Meagan Good and Ben Kingsley. PG-13; 89m.