Urban Thought Collective

THE LOVE GURU (PG-13)

Biases:
This looks bad AND has the Jessica Alba stank of disapproval.

Players:
Actor/co-writer Mike Meyers, Jessica Alba, Romany Malco, Justin Timberlake

Logline:
Determined to make the “Oprah Show” and become “the next Deepak Chopra,” celebrity love guru His Holiness Guru Pitka (Meyers), author of countless self-help books like “If You’re Happy and You Know It, Think Again,” takes on Darren “The Tiger Woods of Hockey” Roanoke (Malco), whose break-up with his wife Prudence (Meagan Good) renders him useless during the Toronto Maple Leafs’ run in the Stanley Cup Finals, much to the horror and chagrin of beleaguered (some would say cursed) owner Jane Bullard (Alba).

The Deal:
Strap in. THE REEL DEAL is about to go on one…

Unredeemable. Distractingly gross. Unforgivably unfunny. Pick an insult and it’s true - “The Love Guru” is NOT for you.

I’m tempted to just string together my notes, as sparse as they are, instead of writing a real (REEL) review, as that would make even more sense than this cinematic abortion brought to full term called “The Love Guru.” Nothing about this movie makes any sense, including the participation of everyone involved not named Mike Meyers. It’s as if every pet project or interest the overly-indulged Meyers ever had is vomited onscreen lacking anything mildly comprehensible or entertaining about them. Quizzically cameo-laden, “Guru” is crass, horned up, infantile, illogical, and an utter waste of time.

No, I’m not done! The plot, as amusing as it could have been, devolves into a bunch of lame, loosely connected and random puns that don’t add up to a damn thing. Even the Lakers scored more in the fourth quarter of Game 6 than do Meyers exasperating attempts at offending the not-so-delicate sensibilities and low expectations of the average American moviegoer. He out juveniles Juvenile, and makes “Tyler Perry’s House of Payne” look like “Seinfeld” in comparison. Half the time, Meyers has to turn to the camera and explain his jokes to the audience by breaking the fourth wall because THEY JUST ARE NOT FUNNY. Even worse, Meyers’ Guru Pitka isn’t even original, Meyers being content to repeat himself by pureeing some of the best bits from other characters to form the worst one of all.

Myers’ Guru Pitka is a sexually-repressed, chastity belt-wearing, knuckle-tatted silkscreen of a character, mugging his overactive eyebrows at every opportunity like a charmless Austin Powers submerged under a goofy, shaky East Indian accent. Meyers’ Guru Pitka is a joke, but the joke is on him (or YOU if you pay to see this movie after this review).

But it’s a bad, bad joke. The kind of joke that sloppy barflies tell thirty minutes after sobriety and thirty minutes before puking. The kind that has good, comic talent-on-the-rise like Romany Malco totally wasted. The kind that fumbles Justin Timberlake’s smirk-worthy departure as the super French-Canadian, Celine Dion-lovin’, veryveryvery well endowed rival goaltender Jacques “Le Coq” Grande’, whose…gift(s) is used to abscond with Roanoke’s very hot wife (a no-dimensional, but preternaturally attractive Meagan Good). The kind of joke that has me wondering/writing midway through the film “Will Jessica Alba ever act again?” (Magic 8-ball says, “Outlook not so good.”). Could she ever act or were we just mesmerized by her “Fantastic” “Dark Angel” “Honey” of a body? Is she a cleverly disguised Trojan horse designed by the Axis of Evil to lower male IQ points and leave us susceptible to nefarious mind control? These are all thoughts I’m actually thinking as I zone in and out of my coma-like experience of “Love.”

Easily the least entertaining time I have had at the theater this year (yes, haters, even worse than “Meet the Browns”) - and I saw this for free - “The Love Guru” needs to help itself before it can even think of helping others. Step one? Someone tell Mike Meyers “no” every once in awhile. Do it with your wallets, as I will do it with mine. Time for an intervention.

0 REELS
(ZERO REELS)
I’d rather light my skin on fire. Twice.

UTC’s resident film critic Edwardo Jackson is the author of the novels EVER AFTER and NEVA HAFTA, (Villard/Random House), a writer for The 213 Magazine, and an LA-based screenwriter. Visit his website at www.edwardojackson.com where his new novel I DO? is available NOW.