Myers plays the titular Guru Pitka, whom wishes nothing more than to usurp his rival, the real life love guru Deepak Chopra. While his self improvement classes and myriad of books have granted him moderate success, he’s still but a shadow in the tall stature of Chopra. To ascend to the highest peak involves landing some face time on Oprah, which is pretty much Pitkas sole motivation throughout the film. His chosen vehicle in this quest is an all-star Toronto Maple Leaf’s hockey player, Darren Roanoke, played by a half asleep Romany Malco. As of late, Roanoke has been experiencing a skill-destroying meltdown, caused, in part, by his wife’s recent affair with rival goalie Jacques Grande (say it out loud) played by Justin Timberlake. Maple Leaf’s owner, Jane Bullard, played by Jessica Alba, attends one of Pitka’s lectures and decides Pitka’s life-solving skills are the perfect remedy for Roanoke’s recent on ice meltdown.
Plenty of supporting roles help round out the cast. The most hilariously puzzling of which belongs to Sir Ben Kingsley, whom plays a cross eyed mentor to a young Pitka. His slight perversions and urine-soaked mop instructions are completely insane and shine as one of the films few genuinely funny moments. Stephen Colbert and Jim Gaffigan, two remarkable funny comedians, provide exciting turns as hockey commentators. Colbert, in particular, has some of the most maniacal and left-field moments of the film, occasionally stealing the show from Myers.
Verne Troyer (Mini Me) tops off the cast by playing Maple Leaf’s coach, Punch Cherkov. Troyer’s presence is a metaphor for everything that fails to strike the mark in Love Guru. Remember all those times in Austin Powers when some absurd joke revolved around Troyer’s lack of vertical space? Wasn’t it hilarious when Austin threw him or fired him down a ventilation shaft? Well, get ready to relive those moments again, because, despite a change in context, they’re all back! It’s nice to see Troyer get a couple shots in too, but wouldn’t it have been funnier to not address his height? Rather than keep the humor subtle and actually be creative with his writing, Myers opts for the quick and easy “hey look, this is funny because heeeeee’s short!” jokes, which is a wasted opportunity, to say the least.
If I didn’t do a good job of describing the plot or if you really can’t tell what the hell is supposed to be happening, don’t worry, as far as I can tell that’s the intended effect. Elements included to actually advance the narrative, such as Roanoke following Pitka’s famous D.R.A.M.A method of sorting one’s life out, fall flat in their attempts to keep the audience entertained. Most of the funny bits are delivered through sequences seemingly unrelated to the overall plot. Myers began his writing career with Saturday Night Live, and he still seems to be focused around non sequitur sequences of brief stabs at comedy. He just keeps moving from scene to scene, finally advancing once he’s exploited and pushed each joke as far as it can possibly go.
While it’s admittedly supposed to be Myers show, his supporting cast is given absolutely nothing to do. Justin Timberlake, who turned in surprisingly intriguing performances in both Southland Tales and Alpha Dog, is completely wasted in this movie. He’s given two jokes to work with, an enormous male member and a confusing fascination with Celine Dion, and little else to do. He seems to exist strictly because Roanoke needs something to overcome, and he just happens to be a convenient place holder. Alba fares even worse, her character’s insecurities over the legendarily awful bad Maple Leaf’s franchise are paper thin, and it feels like she’s there just to give Pitka a pretty face with whom to share the screen. Malco feels like the biggest waste of opportunity; despite a trick slapshot that would make the Mighty Ducks quiver in fear, he is completely devoid of any character. It’s sad because each of these cast members, save Alba, has the potential to make a positive contribution to anything they’re in. Sadly, they never get their chance to shine in Love Guru.
And it doesn’t help that Myer’s humor ran its course nearly a decade ago. His jokes occasionally border on funny, such as the fight with a rooster in the first act, but quickly lose their flavor when he drops the subtilty and overtly reminds you of the joke right after it happened. His nearly self referential winks and quips destroy whatever subtlety the humor could have been laced with and render nearly everything a failed attempt at comedy. This is most evident in the film’s constant fascination with penises. Yeah, sure, making one out of food and then hitting it with a hammer is kind of funny, but countless name metaphors, masturbation insinuation, and other various plays on the word wear out the welcome quite fast. It’s quick and easy humor, and completely devoid of inspiration which made a similar anatomical joke such a riot in Superbad.
And Judd Aptow and Seth Rogan’s recent body of work isn’t an unfair comparison. Right now, they are exactly where Myers was in the 90’s; a hit with most critics due to their fresh and largely successful brand of alternative humor and a massive mainstream success, thanks to audiences starved of inspired comedy. While Aptow and Co continue to evolve as they deliver hit after hit, Myers is content to keep playing the same sandbox and recycling the same material. To put it into terms most of our videogame audience will understand, Myers is still messing around with PS1 titles, while the new stars of comedic writing are too busy with their PS3’s. It’s outdated, frankly, why would you mess around with stuff from ten years ago when the present is so much more appealing?
But to be fair, there are a handful of genuinely funny moments in love guru. Pitka occasionally uses his sitar to break into obscure moments of song, which are charming despite an overall lack of point. The previously mentioned flashback sequences, featuring Myer’s head on a child’s body, are so absurd you can’t help but laugh. Some surprising cameos (including an ace at the last hockey game) are omnipresent through the film, as are references and nods to previous iterations of Myers work; my eyes sparked when they were flipping through car radio and Bohemian Rhapsody was briefly audible. A reference to previous glory was one of the few moments when my ears perked up, which doesn’t exactly spell success for the present.
