Mr. Bean brings ultimate disaster to moviegoers

By Achmad Nurhoeri

JAKARTA (JP): God save the Queen for appointing Mr. Bean as Her Majesty's cultural ambassador to this dangerous, troubled world.

Sure, he lacks the tiniest smidgen of grace as he fumbles along as a one-man walking disaster of good intentions gone woefully awry.

But his mindless machinations are welcome comic relief from the world's grave problems.

And diplomacy through humor is preferable to the drawn-out saga of Di and Charles from the land of stiff upper lips.

After successfully selling his character's foibles in the original TV series at home and abroad, Rowan Atkinson brings Mr. Bean to the uncharted territory of America in Bean: The Ultimate Disaster Movie.

The plot is definitely on the simple side, but it would be foolish to expect anything more than bathroom humor, plenty of drooling and general inanity.

Bean arrives in Los Angeles as part of a plot concocted by exasperated board members of the celebrated Royal National Gallery Museum to rid themselves of "the worst employee in the gallery's history".

As usual, Atkinson plays the king of jinx with doleful facial contortions and hilarious klutziness. He is a refreshing change from style-heavy, forceful film heroes and Jim Carrey's megalomania which has asphyxiated comedy movies.

Director Mel Smith, a fellow cast member of Atkinson's in the BBC hit Not The Nine O'Clock News in the early 1980s, casts a wide enough swathe for Mr. Bean's travails without overshadowing supporting characters, even though most of them are atrociously overacted. Smith's division of labor is key in preventing the plot from becoming tedious as one strained joke, a problem in the half-hour TV show.

Mr. Bean, created in 1989 by Atkinson and colleagues Richard Curtis and Robin Driscoll, was a shock success, staying atop the ratings for six years and leading to a slew of imitators.

For Indonesians, Mr. Bean has emerged as his own comedic phenomenon since the series' debut here in 1990. A survey among Jakartans of Most Famous Britons would inevitably have Mr. Bean on the list, nestled incongruously between the Queen, Baroness Thatcher and the Spice Girls.

He is seemingly everywhere -- on the tube, restaurants, videotheques, even airplanes. Bean mania knows no age, class or color barriers. Like it or not, we are all part of the incredible Bean bandwagon stretching over 82 countries and on 50 airlines.

Mr. Bean in a movie is just icing on the popularity cake.

Does the film do justice to the overwhelmingly idiotic antics of the series?

The answer is a big, drooling yes. It is apparent in the very beginning when Mr. Bean shaves not only his chin, but also his forehead and tongue. Talk about perverse fare in modern movies.

The Grierson Art Gallery is about to exhibit its US$50 million Whistler's Mother, described as America's greatest painting, and wants an art authority from the Royal Gallery to do the honors at a ceremony. They get Mr. Bean, a nonentity security guard known only for a penchant for making noises with his nose.

The American angle adds colors, literally, to the dull hues of the TV shows set in London. It also provides opportunities for outrageous send-ups of Yanks in cutting British characterizations.

David Langley (Peter MacNicol of Radioland Murders, which was also directed by Smith) is one gullible American. He takes a benign view of Mr. Bean's social ineptitude, attributing it all to the behavior of an eccentric genius. And British to boot.

But wife Alison (Pamela Reed of Junior) decides to take a hike instead of mixing with the bizarre guest -- she believes he comes from planet Zog -- who dries his undies inside the Langley's microwave.

Mr. Bean's lunacy is too much even for the trusting Langley, who decides to test the genius quotient.

"Was Leonardo Da Vinci a basketball player ?" he probes. With his down-to-the-ground voice, Mr.Bean nervously titters a weak affirmative. He then confesses that what he actually does in the gallery is sit and look at the paintings. Langley knows that things are too far gone and his neck is on the chopping block if Bean messes up the highly-publicized unveiling. He has to tame the English devil.

But nothing with Mr.Bean ever goes as planned. And we would not be watching a Mr. Bean production if we could safely predict what happens next. Viewers should sit tight, brace for laughs and put any intellectual mindset to rest in the lunacy which unfolds.

Atkinson, once voiced out as Zazu in Lion King, is funny. But a couple of big names, thrown in to give the film that Hollywood sheen, fall short with their stupidity.

Former sex symbol Burt Reynolds appears as rigidly right Gen. Newton and actor Larry Drake (mentally handicapped Benny in L.A. Law) is Grierson's head of security. Both are unintentional comedic disasters as they ham it up in a lame attempt at slapstick. The hiring of these two was no doubt obligatory compromise for Smith to have the film play in Peoria, but it knocks the tempo temporarily off track.

But Reynolds and Drake are mere supporting players for Atkinson's star turn. Forget aromatherapy, Prozac and Bulgarian folk chants, for Mr. Bean's crazed jaunt through life is the ultimate stress reliever.

Just follow Mr. Bean's own example. Focus on the picture, but keep as blank a mind as possible.