Researching the role of Guru Pitka, cinematic sage Mike Myers "started to realise that the whole idea of enlightenment is really, at heart, to just lighten up."
Well, that makes The Beatles look a bit stupid then. And The Rolling Stones. Indeed, any air-headed Sixties acid-casualty who headed to India to sit adoringly at the feet of a mystic with bad hair and a sitar.
Eastern spirituality repackaged and marketed as self-help for rich, white suckers offers endless potential for a scalpel-sharp satirist keen on turning over what many regard as an industry thriving on Western insecurities.
Mike Myers is not a scalpel-sharp satirist. But what he does - and what he does well - is blunderbuss mockery with all the subtlety of a comedic wrecking ball.
Guru Pitka is not a richly detailed creation. He's a full-on stereotype in the vein of Deepak Chopra - think Austin Powers after a spell of dentistry but still retaining the tics and f**t gags - all wrapped up in a big linen sheet with dodgy face fungus.
The gurning guru is called in by Toronto Maple Leafs ice hockey boss Jane Bullard (Alba who, bless her, is to comedy what Amy Winehouse is to a quiet night in) to coach her star player Darren Ranaoke (Malco) back to form.
His keen eye and unerring shot has deserted him since his wife Prudence (Good) threw him over for LA Kings star goalie, the obviously monikered Jacques "Le Coq" Grande (Timberlake).
There are some inspired moments among the tried-and-trusted slapstick: a Morgan Freeman audio gag is a cracker and the scene where Myers, Alba et al are crammed into an office scaled down to the size of Vernon Troyer's midget ice hockey coach is a nice touch.
But Buddha only knows how they managed to get Dame Ben Kingsley to play a cross-eyed guru who goes by the name of Tugginmypuddha...
Tim Evans
