- Culture
- 31 Mar 01
'Bring on the models, baby, let the magic begin!' intones the immortal Austin as his triumphant, shagadelic sequel begins to rev up - and who are we to argue?
'Bring on the models, baby, let the magic begin!' intones the immortal Austin as his triumphant, shagadelic sequel begins to rev up - and who are we to argue?
After a two-year layoff, the man who
gave the world the chat-up line 'Shall we shag now or shall we shag later, baby?' is back for more - the inordinately funny
original has already achieved classic cult status, and his second outing is set to run and run.
While the element of surprise might be gone, The Spy Who Shagged Me (retitled Austin Powers 2 for its British release by craven corporate cowards) just about lives up to its predecessor, and despite the occasional lapse into pure Benny Hill-style crudity, it is undoubtedly the funniest film I've seen all summer. Almost entirely plotless, the film is one big knockabout farce from start to finish.
We pick our hero up where the first movie left him - in the sack with Liz Hurley - before his 'mojo' (sex drive) is stolen by the dastardly Dr.Evil, and Powers is forced to travel back in time in order to recover it, aided by his sidekick Felicity Shagwell (Heather Graham, lacking much in the way of personality but looking fantastic).
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Meanwhile, the unforgettable Dr.Evil is hatching another twisted plan to destroy the world, and dispatches a gigantic phallus-shaped space rocket on a mission to wreak universal carnage. New faces are added to the mixture in the form of Evil's dwarf-clone sidekick Mini-Me (Verne Jay Troyer), and a repugnant Scottish slob named Fat Bastard, who is quite the most horrendous sight ever to bestride a widescreen.
If anything, the subtlety quotient is even lower than in the original: Myers gleefully prances around naked in the very first scene, with various fruits and veg strategically placed in front of his prize asset, and that goofy self-deprecating grin attached to his face. The female characters sport names like Ivana Humpalot, and the gags keep on coming at a ferocious rate - most of them hit the target effortlessly, apart from a few misguided fart-and-shit gags which would have been better left on the cutting-room floor.
Powers is as engagingly ridiculous as ever, but the inestimably camp Dr.Evil is the real star of the show, with a voice one could listen to all night and a magnificent range of bemused facial expressions. So it's all groovy, baby, a loopy, buzzy, dopey, goofy sequel that will work its magic on anyone with the faintest trace of a funnybone. The director has gone on record as saying that up to half of the dialogue was ad-libbed on the spot, which seems perfectly plausible, so spontaneous and whimsical is the tone of the whole thing.
Cameos from Burt Bacharach, Elvis Costello, Willie Nelson, Woody Harrelson and Tim Robbins serve to highlight just what a significant cultural icon Powers has become as the millenium spins on its merry way, and while the Oscar committee may not exactly rush to embrace The Spy Who Shagged Me, the rest of us know we've seen the comedy of the year.