The Love Guru
Any movie in which Justin Timberlake and Jessica Alba come off as the most relaxed and natural actors is the kind of movie that's best avoided. Sadly, that's far from the worst thing about The Love Guru. Mike Myers is infinitely pleased with himself, and doubtlessly convinced of his comic genius, and thus feels little need to do anything in this disaster of a comedy besides tell an endless string of dick jokes and give the camera knowing, wise-ass grins. He can't even be bothered to keep his offensive "Indian" accent intact for more than half a scene, much less develop a plotline worth reiterating here. While a comedian like Will Ferrell can make one-note comedy work in the audience's favor, Myers has none of Ferrell's loose shamelessness. Instead, his current idea of humor consists mainly of midgets, puerile puns, references to Wayne's World, dick jokes and, well, dick jokes. It goes without saying that the shameful stereotyping Myers engages in here is tasteless, but it's also so lacking in affection you can almost feel a bit of passive-aggressiveness in its harshness. Plus, did he really have to go and pick Ben Kingsley to play a character called Guru Tugginmypudha? (Told you about the puns!) The ham-fisted Bollywood mockery--despite featuring Alba in a sari--falls flat, the jabs at celebrity spirituality are toothless, the laughs are few and far between and, unless the only exposure you've had to Indian culture is Apu, the rancid racism that's the movie's central joke just makes it all too much to endure.