The Love Guru.

Rating: 1/10 (17 January 2019)

For the first time ever, I cannot muster the strength to write a quirky introductory sentence. After a long arduous thought-process of approximately 12 minutes after the credits rolled, I came to the conclusion that The Love Guru is the worst film I've ever had the misfortune of surviving. Yes, it is finally time for 'Movie 43' to pass the crown. So I'm sure you are all wondering "what makes this film the worst?". Quite simple really. Everything. Every single aspect, every single speck of dust, every God damn spoken word. Every-flipping-thing. I'm not even going to describe the plot. That's right, I'm breaking tradition for this one review.
As a fan of Myers' previous work, I was optimistic that this could've been atleast somewhat amusing, even in a silly parody way. But oh boy, I was wrong! I've never been so wrong in all my life. This film singlehandedly destroyed Myers' career, and he only has himself to blame. He co-wrote a screenplay that contains a record number of dick jokes. Visual dick jokes, audible dick jokes, imaginary dick jokes, abbreviated dick jokes, Hindu dick jokes, Justin "Trousersnake" Timberlake dick jokes and elephant dick jokes. There is not a single line of dialogue that is remotely funny. Just a colossal wave of crass outdated humour that has as much appeal as two elephants shagging on an ice hockey rink (which totally does happen...). A satire on Hinduism? Give me a break! There was no sign of genuine wit in this horrific script. And the worst part is that Myers thought he was actually being hilarious. "Yes Mike, say wiener one more time? And fart? And repeat the same joke twelve more times? Cut! That's a wrap!". Ben Kingsley, who I cannot believe agreed to be even remotely involved, was cross eyed for the entire film. Funny? No. Cringe-worthy? Definitely. Jessica Alba was only there for her dashing good looks so that Myers could pleasure himself between takes. Troyer makes a return, just so that we can all reminisce about 'Austin Powers'. Y'know, a time when Myers was comedically creative.
After the utter tripe of ice hockey, love advice, cock wrestling (rooster obviously, you dirty bugger) and celebrity cameos, the film concludes on a stereotypical Bollywood musical number that just leaves an incredibly sour taste in one's mouth. "Oh but, they are writing a love letter to Bollywood films! Everything looks so colourful and musical and..." STOP right there. You're telling me that Myers wrote this to show his appreciation for Bollywood flicks? Didn't think so. The worst crime is that they "Bollywood-ised" (Trade-frickin'-mark) Parton's '9 To 5', all in the first two minutes! I can't. Nope. I'm done. If a comedy is unfunny, unwatchable, uncharismatic and un-flipping-believably torturous, then it's a failure. No guru can advise me to watch this ever again.