DEUCE BIGALOW Horrible movie. Brilliant photograph.

Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo
dir. Bigelow
Opens Fri Aug 12
Various Theaters

Have you ever had one of those days when your alarm doesn't go off and you wake up an hour late for work and realize you've pissed the bed and you run out to the car and have a flat tire and while you're trying to fix it a big truck comes by and runs through a mud puddle and sprays you with dirt and you try and call your boss and he refuses to take your call? Imagine that kind of day—only jammed into an hour and 10 minutes—and you'll have an idea of how horribly bad Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo is.

If you saw the first film in this atrocious series, Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo, stop while you're ahead. The original is far superior to the sequel, even while both films are essentially the same. And please don't make me explain the plot because it's so fucking stupid.

Okay fine—I have some time to kill anyway. Man-whore Deuce (the phenomenally unfunny Rob Schneider) gets in some trouble in the States, so he goes to Amsterdam to meet up with his friend T.J. (Eddie Griffin), a pimp who's wrongly accused of murder, and so then Deuce has to help him out by man-whoring around and trying to figure out who the killer is. Sigh.

More interestingly, during the movie I had the great pleasure (that's sarcasm) of sitting in front of a woman who evidently hadn't taken a shower in like three weeks. She had a ripe, sour smell that I can only classify as "dirty pussy," a stench that wafted up my nostrils for the entirety of the film and made every lame dick, spooge, fart, poop, and pee joke all the funnier (sarcasm again). It seemed fitting, though, that while my eyes and ears were subjected to the pure torture that is Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo, my olfactory sense should also be disturbed by something equally foul, disgusting, and unnecessary.