Review – Austin Powers

This film is an instruction manual on how to run jokes into the ground. It starts out as a mildly clever concept: what if one of those stupid cliché British secret agents from the 60s somehow ended up forced to adjust to life in the 90s. But every time screenwriter Mike Myers tosses in a gag with potential, he ends up running it over and over again until it isn’t funny anymore or exerting so much energy explaining the joke that the humor gets sucked right out of the situation. A quick example: there’s an Irish terrorist who leaves a trinket from his charm bracelet at crime scenes. “Always after my lucky charms,” he mutters, completely deadpan. Mildly amusing, but then the characters have a way-too-extensive discussion of the Lucky Charms ad, robbing the joke of just about all its impact. And then there’s the endless parade of moronic nonsense about the protagonist’s British teeth. Take away the self-defeating gags, and there’s not much here besides a juvenile send-up of equally juvenile, decades-old James Bond movies. Wish I’d skipped it