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The producers of the shockingly poor Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo might expect the critical community to give their baby a break, mainly because it's just blindly assumed by all involved that very little thought, care, effort, or ingenuity went into the thing. I believe they assume criticizing Deuce Bigalow 2 would be like criticizing a baby for being born retarded.

But let's cut right to the heart of the matter:

Movies this bad should never be made -- and if they are, they should never be released. Except perhaps as some sort of Clockwork Orange-style prison experiment.

And it's not just that the humor in DB2 is of the most simplistically puerile mold imaginable; it's that not one joke in this movie is delivered with anything even approximating style, wit, timing, or grace. What I heard as Deuce Bigalow 2: European Gigolo played before my eyes was a ceaseless deluge of flushing toilets, dick-obsessed mumbling, and an ever-frappling fart noise that gave me a migraine as it boiled my blood.

Chuckle at the woman with the hole in her neck. But wait! Liquid flies out of it. Oh, someone get Rob Schneider a lamp shade to wear on his head!

Guffaw as you're introduced to a woman from Chernobyl who has a mutated penis for a nose! How witty and topical!

Scream with laughter as a very large woman is depicted as a horrific inhuman sex-beast! And get comfortable as that half-joke concept is beaten into the ground as if penned by Bamm-Bamm Rubble himself.

Lead moron Rob Schneider is, and this is me being kind, a talentless dolt. In person, sitting down for dinner, the guy could be an absolute prince -- but going solely by what I've seen in his "filmography," the guy's about one step higher on the talent meter than Paris Hilton and/or JM J. Bullock. I know that the guy has somehow turned his "smelly short version of Steve Guttenberg" persona into some sort of movie star thing -- but I attribute that success to his proximity to good pal Adam Sandler. Aside from with the assistance of a billionaire bong-buddy of Sandler's stature, there's no freaking way that the star of The Animal and The Hot Chick could continue to churn out cinematic swill of this subterranean caliber.

And please don't dismiss my criticisms as those of a stuffy old geezer who can't appreciate some quality raunch -- because I can fling and receive the smut-jokes with the best of 'em. Case in point: I recently saw a very sex-obsessed (and bodily function-centric) comedy called The 40 Year-Old Virgin, which I consider one of the best comedies of the past ten years -- because the talent behind the movie all but oozes off the screen; the only thing that oozes off of Deuce Bigalow 2 is sweaty desperation and a rash that (I hope) can be remedied with penicillin injections.

No, the only thing I found truly offensive about DB2 is that it somehow got a rubber stamp from a room full of professional movie makers, thereby implying that this mindless flotsam is "exactly what the moviegoing public wants!" Well, speaking as part of the moviegoing public, believe me when I say "No more Rob Schneider. Ever. Please."

Oh yeah, the plot: The world's ugliest gigolo goes to Amsterdam, stumbles across a murder-mystery involving international "man whores," somehow finds a girlfriend in a looker with that hilarious affliction known as OCD, and then proceeds to unleash the most juvenile, slack-jawed -moronic pratfalls and sickening slapstick you'll ever be forced to endure. It's not that I didn't TRY to find this garbage amusing; it's that the filmmakers didn't even try to make it funny. Witlessness aside, this is simply one of the laziest, chintziest, and most amateurish comedies I've seen in a very long time.

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originally posted: 08/12/05 20:16:51
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