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Dr. Daniel's review of Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery Directed by Jay Roach. Starring Mike Myers, Elizabeth Hurley, Mimi Rogers, Michael York, Robert Wagner, Seth Green, Fabiana Udenio, Will Ferrell, Tom Arnold, Carrie Fisher. Rated PG-13.
Okay, here's the deal. I dread seeing some of my patients. I've got my hypochondriacs, my stinkers, my complainers, and my multi-level marketers. Some are so irritating and horrid that I tell Nurse Martha Nell to not even tell me when they've got appointments, so I'll be surprised when they show up. It's better to be shocked, than to spend all day dreading their arrival. On the other hand, I've got a handful of patients who are on the opposite side of the nickel. There's Trina Triskle, who smells so great and looks so pretty that I can't wait to hear her name on the intercom. (Unfortunately, she's hitched to a fella in Atlanta, but comes back to her hometown for doctor visits. I think she likes flirtin' with me.) There's Emmett Roper, who's one of the funniest jokesters in the land. I can always count on him supplying me with a good belly-laugh, even when he's sick with the flu. And there's the owner of our local bookstore, Roger Kignet. I can't say I've ever known him to be sick or injured, but he drops by regularly for a checkup anyway. Each time he brings me a complimentary copy of some riveting new bestselling literary tome. (Okay, okay. He gives me free Silver Surfer comics.) Anyway, knowing that one of these three patients is about to arrive usually makes me quite thrilled. And they never disappoint. Recently, I had the same feeling about a movie. About three months ago, I saw a teaser trailer for Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery. It was only about thirty seconds long, I guess, but in that brief look-see, I saw Mike Myers, the funniest of several funny guys to emerge from "Saturday Night Live's" early '90s renaissance (Phil Hartman, Chris Farley, and Adam Sandler being the others), twisting all over the place, dishing spy-talk in this skanky British accent and dressed in mod polyester gear. Lots of swish pans and maniac zooms, backed by the worst kind of great cheeseball psychadelic pop music. The spot went away as fast as it arrived, but I knew I had seen something sparkling, and couldn't wait for it to arrive. More info, ads and websites arrived (I recommended the flick's stellar site as a Panacea Pick just last month) and I saw a hilarious full-length trailer during the warm-up for Liar Liar. My anticipation was working as much overtime as a single mother the week before Christmas. The movie hit town today, and I was there like a hare. Sometimes, with a big build-up I end up getting squashed into muck, as with Space Jam and Absolute Power, but this time my hard candy shell stayed nicely intact. Austin Powers is simply hilarious. The idea itself is a winner. Myers plays the title character, an orthodontically challenged '60s-era British secret agent/fashion photographer, who goes into cryogenic deep freeze in pursuit of the evil Dr. Evil (also played to wondrous extreme by a bald, pinky-sucking Myers.) When Evil unfreezes to take over the world, Powers does too, but the two meltees are now three decades behind their prime and hiplessly out of date. Without spoiling any of the best lines, let me just say that Powers pursues women with the kind of cocky, come-on appeal that you'd expect to hear from Tom Jones at a nunnery.
I've been racking my brain to come up with at least one cynical negative comment about this film, but I'm totally bankrupt. Elizabeth Hurley is perfect as a junior agent brought on to escort Powers into the modern age, and she's just one of a notable cast that includes Robert Wagner (as Number Two) and Mimi Rogers, plus cameos from Tom Arnold and Carrie Fisher. This thing has jokes galore, some fabulous hair and makeup work, and a soundtrack that will coax pelvic thrusts from even the stiffest waists in America. The real joy in Austin Powers comes from its references to just about every James Bond cliche ever created and its eagle-eye production design. (Listen closely to the character names, very clever.) Myers and director Jay Roach obviously have woodys for the kitschy decor and lingo of the era, and this thing is bound to have people dressing in velvet and spouting, "Groovy, baby!" and "Oh, be-have!" for weeks. Amazingly, the theater I was in was practically empty, and I have a tucked-away fear that this flick may be too "inside" for the masses. Hopefully, word of mouth will slither out quickly and give Myers the kind of Wayne's World box-office glory that can keep him bankable in Hollywood. If so, he's got a long-running series for the taking, as it's easy to imagine this lovable hipster in any of a hundred scenarios with even more dastardly villains and cheeky chicks. I know I'll be looking forward to it. |
