The Penguin Lessons: Waddles into your heart

The Penguin Lessons (2024) • View trailer

Four stars (out of five). Rated PG-13, for dramatic intensity, fleeting sexual candor and mild profanity

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 3.30.25

Filmmakers are reading each other’s email again.

 

Just last August, we were graced with My Penguin Friend: a thoroughly enchanting drama, based on actual events, about how a Brazilian fisherman saved the life of an oil-covered penguin in the spring of 2011, after which the bird bonded with him.

 

The initially hopeless teacher/pupil dynamic shifts suddenly when Tom (Steve Coogan)
impulsively brings his penguin companion to class.

And here’s the follow-up: a similarly endearing handling of Tom Michell’s 2016 memoir, which depicts how he — as “a country boy from the gentle Downs of rural Sussex” — similarly saved a penguin while teaching in a boys’ boarding school in 1970s Argentina.

Director Peter Cattaneo and scripter Jeff Pope have taken a few liberties. Michell is played by 59-year-old actor/comedian Steve Coogan, who certainly can’t be termed naïve or unsophisticated. Sidebar characters have been added here and there, and the political context has been amplified in a manner that more pointedly mirrors current events throughout the world.

 

But the saga’s heart remains front and center, along with an aw-shucks level of cuteness ... but Cattaneo ensures that the tone never becomes mawkishly sentimental.

 

Coogan also supplies plenty of dry humor, delivered with his impeccable timing; his sarcastic one-liners are even funnier when contrasted with his bleak, deadpan expression.

 

The disillusioned Michell, carrying tragic baggage eventually revealed, arrives in Buenos Aires to teach at a prestigious boarding school that caters exclusively to the Very Wealthy. He’s greeted by sharp and severe Headmaster Buckle (Jonathan Pryce, appropriately stuffy), who insists on punctuality in all manners, and cautions that any discussion of politics should be approached with a small “p.”

 

That’s wise advice, because Tom — who expected an easy assignment — is chagrined to find the city in turmoil, with soldiers patrolling everywhere, and citizens understandably on edge. (Isabel Perón is shortly to be ousted via a military coup.)

 

Worse yet, Tom is dismayed to discovered that wealthy Argentinian boys are just as obnoxious as their British counterparts. Diego (David Herrero), Ernesto (Aimar Miranda) and Ramiro (Hugo Fuertes) are the stand-outs, with the most dramatic business.

 

Tom can’t begin to obtain control in his classroom, and his tendency to quote highbrow poetry and aphorisms doesn’t help.

 

His initial encounter with the school’s hard-of-hearing cook and cleaner, María (Vivian El Jaber) also goes poorly, much to the amusement of her adult granddaughter, Sofía (Alfonsina Carrocio), who works alongside her.

 

Tom’s sole ray of sunshine is erudite, Finnish-born fellow instructor Tapio (Björn Gustafsson), who — although intelligent and convivial — is hilariously incapable of understanding irony or sarcasm. As are Tom’s students.

Despicable Me 4: DiMinionshing returns

Despicable Me 4 (2024) • View trailer

3.5 stars (out of five). Rated PG, for silly action and mild rude humor

Available via: Movie theaters

By Derrick Bang • Published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.7.24

Producer/director Chris Renaud and the rest of the Illumination team need to be careful, lest they steer this franchise into treacherous waters.

 

Teenage Poppy Prescott (voice by Joey King), determined to become a super-villain,
blackmails Gru (Steve Carell) into helping her with a "big heist." They're accompanied
by Gru Jr. and faithful Minions Phil and Ralph.

Although the Minion-laden hijinks and rat-a-tat pacing are just as much fun in this sixth entry — a list which includes the two Minions films — the core storyline leaves much to be desired. Ken Daurio and Mike White’s script is sloppy; the primary plot seems an afterthought driven by Minion gags, rather than the other way around. That’s an important distinction ... and potentially fatal for the series, in the long run.

There’s also a strong sense of familiarity and “borrowing” from other sources, which suggests scarcity of original thought.

 

To cases, then:

 

Events begin as Gru (again voiced by Steve Carell) and his Anti-Villain League task force infiltrate a reunion party at his alma-mater, the Lycée Pas Bon School of Villainy, in order to arrest long-time nemesis Maxime Le Mal (Will Ferrell). The operation nearly goes awry, when Maxime transforms himself into a human cockroach — complete with six nasty, jagged limbs — but Gru and the AVL team win the day.

 

(Maxime’s makeover is this film’s first serious flaw. It isn’t maintained consistently, during what follows; more critically, Maxime never again is as ferociously strong and scary, particularly during the third act climax, as he is in this initial confrontation.)

 

With that assignment out of the way, Gru settles into new parenthood; alas, baby Gru Jr. prefers the company of his mother, Lucy (Kristen Wiig), and wants nothing to do with dear ol’ dad. Although these father/infant tussles are amusing — particularly with respect to Gru Jr.’s lightning-swift changes of expression — they feel an awful lot like the similar difficulties Bob Parr had with baby Jack-Jack, in The Incredibles.

 

Then, catastrophe: Maxime breaks out of AVL’s supposedly escape-proof cell, with the help of condescending girlfriend Valentina (Sofia Vergara) and his army of armored (regular-sized) cockroaches. Determined to avenge his capture, Maxime promises to kidnap what is most dear to Gru: his infant son.

 

AVL head Silas Ramsbottom (Steve Coogan, mirthfully stuffy) acts swiftly, and places Gru, Lucy and their family — including daughters Margo (Miranda Cosgrove), Edith (Dana Gaier) and Agnes (Madison Skyy Polan) — into a safe house in the picturesque community of Mayflower. They’re joined by Gru’s three most loyal Minions — Ron, Phil and Ralph — while all the others are taken to AVL Headquarters, where Ramsbottom has “special plans” for some of them.

Stan & Ollie: A warm, heartfelt tribute

Stan & Ollie (2018) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang

Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy were enormously popular film stars for roughly a decade starting in 1927, in great part because they were among the very few comedy actors who successfully navigated the transition from silent films to talkies.

Stan Laurel (Steve Coogan, left) and Oliver Hardy (John C. Reilly, right) are dismayed
when their British manager/handler, Bernard Delfont (Rufus Jones), explains that
they'll be stuck playing small, run-down theaters ... at least, for awhile.

(Indeed, some of their later one-liners remain gems to this day. “You can lead a horse to water,” Stanley observes, in the 1930 short Brats, “but a pencil must be led.”)

Credit for teaming the slim Englishman (Laurel) with the corpulent American (Hardy) goes to early motion picture impresario Hal Roach, who made them an official double act with the 1927 silent short, Putting Pants on Philip. They became indefatigably busy thereafter, with a résumé that boasts 32 silent shorts, 40 sound shorts — including 1932’s Academy Award winner, The Music Box — and 23 features.

They never quite cracked the list of Top 10 American film stars — by box-office receipts — but they were among the Top 10 international film stars in 1936 and ’37. Their gentle brand of humor, and their films, were universal.

Director Jon S. Baird’s Stan & Ollie is a warm and deeply poignant tribute to what would become their swan song: an ambitious UK tour in 1953 and ’54, undertaken despite their declining health. After that final curtain, they never again appeared together; Hardy died in 1957, and Laurel survived him by another eight years.

Screenwriter Jeff Pope plays fast and loose with a few historical details, but the core narrative is reasonably faithful: most notably the bond between two men who had worked together for so long, that their relationship was far more deep than that with respective wives over the years. Pope’s tone is heartfelt, and Baird’s direction is impressively delicate; at no time does this often melancholy story become mawkish, nor is there any sense that the duo’s memory is being exploited unduly.

Mostly, though, the film is driven by superlative performances from Steve Coogan (Stan) and John C. Reilly (Ollie, more affectionately known as “Babe”).

Coogan is particularly impressive, clearly having studied Laurel meticulously enough to perfectly mimic his impeccably timed pantomime. It’s not merely a matter of reproducing the stage bits performed before an adoring public, but also mastering the doe-eyed, less-is-more dancer’s grace with which Stan carries himself, behind closed doors.

One of the key points of Pope’s script, however — adapted from A.J. Marriot’s 1993 book, Laurel & Hardy: The British Tours — is that Stan’s outwardly mild manner conceals a creative talent chafing at the contractual restraints imposed by Roach (Danny Huston, suitably imperious). As depicted here, Ollie is content and complacent, cheerfully willing to do as he’s told; Stan is ambitious, desiring the greater freedom that he knows will make them even more successful.

This dichotomy will resurface later, under less than ideal circumstances.

Despicable Me 3: Third time isn't the charm

Despicable Me 3 (2017) • View trailer 
Three stars. Rated PG, for no particular reason
By Derrick Bang

One should avoid going to the well too often.

At first, Gru (left) is delighted to finally meet Dru, the long-estranged twin brother he never
knew existed. But Dru's wealth, charm and swooningly handsome good looks quickly
prove annoying, particularly since Gru's life and career have bottomed out.

The Despicable Me franchise is showing its age, and for a variety of reasons. Although Cinco Paul and Ken Daurio have scripted all three films — which should ensure continuity of tone and narrative style — they’re clearly running out of ideas. Yes, this third installment is funny (for the most part); and yes, it zips along quickly enough to prevent viewer restlessness.

I’m sure children will be entertained by its colorful wackiness.

But their parents ... not so much. And that’s a shift, because the first two films played far more successfully to all ages.

This film just feels tired, much like bad guy-turned-good guy Gru, referenced by the title. Poor Gru has a constant case of the mopes this time out. Let’s face it: He was a lot more captivating as a villain, when he was, yes, despicable.

Perhaps more insidiously, Gru has been overshadowed by his banana-hued, pint-size subordinates. The Minions are a more fun — and a lot funnier — than anything Gru offers here. And poor Gru seems to know it.

Over at Blue Sky, Chris Wedge and his team have been careful not to let Scrat take over their Ice Age series, instead keeping the prehistoric squirrel/rat on the sidelines, as occasional slapstick relief. Paul, Daurio and returning Despicable co-director Pierre Coffin haven’t been equally cautious, and the result is obvious: The Minions now control the franchise.

Leaving poor Gru a somewhat listless afterthought.

The “despicable” character this time out is Balthazar Bratt (voiced by Trey Parker), a former TV child star who peaked with an evil character his adolescent self played for several seasons in the 1980s. He came complete with signature phrase — “I’ve been a baaaaaad boy!” — and wreaked fictitious havoc on a weekly basis.

Minions: Banana-rama!

Minions (2015) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rated PG, and needlessly, for cartoon action and brief rude humor
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 7.10.15

Thrusting supporting players into their own starring vehicle rarely succeeds.

Rarely ... but not never. In five short years, the Twinkie-hued, overalled lab subordinates in Despicable Me have gone from screwball second bananas to a genuine world-wide phenomenon ... and they more than hold their own, in the absolutely delightful Minions.

Having won a coveted spot as Scarlet Overkill's new henchbeings, our Minion heroes —
from left, Stuart, Bob and Kevin — eagerly await their first dastardly mission. Sadly,
they've no idea how shallow their new employer's loyalty is destined to be.

But their success remains an anomaly.

Although a more frequent phenomenon on television — where we (briefly) suffered through, among many others, Beverly Hills Buntz (from Hill Street Blues) and Joey (Friends) — the big screen has seen its share of sidekick disasters.

The reason is obvious, although it seems to elude studio execs. A successful ensemble character dynamic is as fragile as a soufflé: Each element is essential, creating a whole that is, to everybody’s delight, greater than the sum of its talented parts. You simply can’t remove one of those pieces, toss it into an under-written spin-off, and expect good results.

Steve Carell’s Evan Baxter was hilarious, supporting Jim Carrey, Morgan Freeman, Jennifer Aniston and Nora Dunn in Bruce Almighty. On his own, in the follow-up Evan Almighty ... not so much. Dwayne Johnson’s Scorpion King may have set up the action in The Mummy Returns, but he couldn’t manage the heavy lifting in his own film, a year later.

Jennifer Garner’s Elektra was the best part of the otherwise awful Daredevil — notwithstanding Colin Farrell’s maniacal villain — but no amount of fancy swordplay could have helped her starring vehicle, two years later. And let’s just try to pretend that Halle Berry’s toothless turn as Catwoman never happened.

(This phenomenon is far from recent. Basil Radford and Naunton Wayne’s Charters and Caldicott, the cricket-loving supporting players in Alfred Hitchcock’s 1938 classic, The Lady Vanishes, wound up in their own feature three years later. Nobody remembers Crook’s Tour today ... which is probably just as well.)

Why, then, have the Minions broken the curse?

It always comes down to the same basic element: the script. In this case, Brian Lynch — who had a hand in 2011’s droll Puss in Boots (another rare spin-off success) — has delivered a story that’s both clever and witty, granting these well-intentioned but disaster-prone subordinates both an origin story and their first chaotic adventure within the ranks of would-be super-villains.

Lynch doesn’t miss a trick. The results are cute, hilarious and wisely episodic: mini-escapades shrewdly stitched together in a manner that feels like a long single storyline. Co-directors Pierre Coffin and Kyle Balda keep things moving at a lively clip, with editor Claire Dodgson also ensuring that this 91-minute film doesn’t overstay its welcome.

Philomena: Grace and forgiveness

Philomena (2013) • View trailer 
Four stars. Rating: PG-13, and quite needlessly, for fleeting profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 11.29.13

Some of them sneak up on us.

At first, journalist Martin Sixsmith (Steve Coogan) agrees to investigate the intriguing
tale related by Philomena Lee (Judi Dench) because he smells a potentially great
story. As time passes, however, her refined behavior — and generosity of spirit —
awaken a reaction that he never expected: He begins to care.

At first blush, Philomena seems the sort of mildly detached, urbane dramedy that the Brits deliver so well: a “two-hander” that places a prim, proper and deeply spiritual old woman in a car with a cynical younger journalist. It’s a road trip, a genre with which we’re quite familiar: These two disparate characters will get to know each other, achieving mutual respect and trust as the journey continues. Cue the inevitable happy conclusion.

Except that Philomena isn’t like that at all.

Director Stephen Frears’ new film is an acting showcase for star Judi Dench, who delivers yet another mesmerizing performance. Co-star Steve Coogan is a revelation in a dramatic role: a quite impressive change of pace for a confrontational British comic actor who has been nothing short of irritating in gawdawful projects such as Hamlet 2 and Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story.

They’re marvelous together, displaying an oil-and-vinegar dynamic that leaves us wondering, as the story proceeds, which one will get fed up first, and tell the other to sod off. Now, that's dramatic tension.

And, oh my goodness, the story. Shattering, unforgettable, deeply moving and laced with surprises, right up to the final scenes that deliver a truly unexpected — and frankly heart-stopping — portrait of vicious, unrepentant evil.

If that didn’t pique your curiosity, nothing will.

Coogan doesn’t merely play a featured acting role; he also co-produced and co-wrote (with Jeff Pope) the film, having been deeply touched by the book on which this factual story is based: Martin Sixsmith’s The Lost Child of Philomena Lee. Up to this moment, Coogan’s writing oeuvre has been similarly comic, often of the shrieking variety; with Pope’s help, he nonetheless delivers a sensitive, restrained and genuinely touching script.

Clearly, Coogan recognized that he need not oversell the material with florid dialogue or acting histrionics; the story’s core facts deliver their own emotional wallop. Besides which, Frears (Dirty Pretty Things, The Queen and many others) is too accomplished a director to allow that sort of nonsense. He guided Helen Mirren to an Academy Award; he may well have done the same for Dench here.

Despicable Me 2: Villainy lite

Despicable Me 2 (2013) • View trailer 
3.5 stars. Rating: PG, and quite needlessly, for mild rude humor
By Derrick Bang

Thank goodness for the minions.

2010’s Despicable Me got much of its hilarious edge from the personality transformation experienced by Gru, the vaguely Slavic super-villain who mellows out — but only somewhat — after encountering a trio of trusting little girls.

Sent undercover as the owner of a mega-mall's boutique cupcake emporium, Gru is
annoyed to discover that he has been saddled with an assisant: Lucy Wilde, an
aggressively eager agent of the Anti-Villian League. Their goal: to figure out which
neighboring shopkeeper actually is a dastardly criminal mastermind.

Gru’s introductory strut in that first film — to a deliciously snarky title song written and performed by Pharrell Williams — was the stuff of greatness. Here was a gleeful scoundrel who’d embrace badness big and small, whether stealing the Earth’s Moon, or stealing candy from a baby. And he wouldn’t merely snatch the sweet from the crestfallen tyke; he’d replace it with a cod liver oil sucker.

Watching this fellow struggle against the arrival of a hitherto buried good side — trying to stay wicked in the face of unconditional love from Agnes, the youngest of his new wards — was the stuff of classic character comedy.

This sequel’s Gru, alas, has completed this makeover, and has fully embraced his light side. As a result, he’s both less interesting and less funny. His inventive genius now reduced to concocting playful gadgets for Agnes’ birthday party, the low point arrives when — a paid actress having failed to show up — Gru dresses himself as the world’s most unlikely fairy princess.

Which, yes, results in a genuinely poignant moment between Agnes and her de facto daddy.

I don’t intend to suggest that Despicable Me 2 is either disappointing or unsatisfying: far from it. Returning directors Pierre Coffin and Chris Renaud maintain their engaging blend of character comedy, goofy slapstick and oddball peril, and returning scripters Ken Daurio and Cinco Paul certainly know the territory.

But the latter are on their own this time, whereas the first film derived from a story by Sergio Pablos ... and he may be the essential missing ingredient. Despicable Me 2 is a more conventional animated comedy, in terms of its standard-issue narrative and predictable plot hiccups. We never knew what would happen in the first film, which was much of its charm; this sequel, in contrast, lacks that element of uncertainty.

Fortunately, Daurio and Paul have the good sense to grant more screen time to the first film’s breakout stars: the mischievous, hapless and hilariously speech-challenged minions.

We can’t get enough of them, and this new film takes ample advantage of that fact.

(To be more precise, we certainly haven’t yet gotten enough of them. Let’s see what happens next year, when they get their own movie.)

Ruby Sparks: Fantasy with a whimsical glow

Ruby Sparks (2012) • View trailer
Four stars. Rating: R, for profanity, sexual candor and brief drug use
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 8.17.12

Fresh, provocative concepts are one of cinema’s great treasures: unexpected delights — often in quiet, unassuming packages — that catch our fancy because they deserve to.

Initially, Harry (Chris Messina, right) assumes that his brother Calvin's
(Paul Dano) new girlfriend is nothing more than a figment of his
unbalanced imagination. But when Harry finally agrees to meet Ruby
(Zoe Kazan) — and realizes that she's a genuine, flesh-and-blood
woman — he's both captivated and genuinely amazed ... because he
knows that she first existed only as a character in Calvin's new novel.

They’re usually script-driven, sometimes a debut screenplay by a young actor flying beneath the radar ... but not for long. Think of Sylvester Stallone, stubbornly shepherding 1976’s Rocky to the big screen as a starring vehicle for himself. Matt Damon and Ben Affleck, and 1997’s Good Will Hunting. Sofia Coppola, and 2003’s Lost in Translation (not her first script, but certainly the Academy Award-winning effort that made her career). Michael Arndt, and 2006’s Little Miss Sunshine.

The latter also marked the directorial debut of Jonathan Dayton and Valerie Faris, a filmmaking team who cut their teeth on music videos and the MTV series The Cutting Edge before turning their deliciously quirky sensibilities to full-length features. They’re obviously selective, having waited six years before embarking on their sophomore effort.

And while Ruby Sparks certainly benefits from their capable guidance, this wonderfully idiosyncratic charmer will be immortalized as the film that transformed Zoe Kazan from a little-known young actress — you might remember her from supporting roles in 2008’s Revolutionary Road and 2009’s It’s Complicated — to a multi-hyphenate: star, writer and producer.

Until a few short months ago, Kazan probably was most famous simply because of her family name: She’s the granddaughter of celebrated director Elia Kazan (Gentlemen’s Agreement, On the Waterfront, East of Eden and many more), and the daughter of Academy Award-nominated screenwriters Nicholas Kazan (Reversal of Fortune and Bicentennial Man, among others) and Robin Swicord (The Jane Austen Book Club and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button, among others).

Clearly, talent runs in the family. By the end of summer, we’ll hear the name Kazan and think of Zoe, not her parents or grandfather. And deservedly so.

Ruby Sparks is Zoe Kazan’s tart, unapologetically preposterous update of the ancient Greek Pygmalion myth, which concerned a sculptor who fell in love with a statue he created, after it came to life. George Bernard Shaw turned this concept into a 1912 play that eventually begat the acclaimed 1956 Broadway musical My Fair Lady, which has remained famous — as a film and stage production — ever since.

In Kazan’s hands, the sculptor becomes novelist Calvin Weir-Fields (Paul Dano), a former literary wunderkind who sold his acclaimed first novel while still a teenager. But like other first-time author celebrities before him — Margaret Mitchell, J.D. Salinger and Harper Lee come to mind — the subsequent fame has proved stifling and artistically crippling. Now, a full decade later, Calvin still rides on the fame of his debut book, but he hasn’t been able to write anything new.

Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian — Exhibits charm

Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian (2009) • View trailer for Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian
3.5 stars (out of five). Rating: PG, for harmless comedy violence
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 5.21.09
Buy DVD: Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian • Buy Blu-Ray: Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian (Three-Disc Edition + Digital Copy + DVD) [Blu-ray]


Blend a museum of natural history, an uptight night watchman and a magical tablet that brings all the exhibits to life between dusk and dawn each day, and the result was $574 million in worldwide ticket sales.

One does not ignore numbers like that.

Although guard Larry Daley (Ben Stiller) has his hands full, when all sorts
of chaos erupts in the Smithsonian's many galleries, he has the advantage
of resourceful assistance from the plucky Amelia Earhart (Amy Adams).

Happily, Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian is every bit as clever, charming and harmlessly exciting as its 2006 predecessor. Indeed, this sequel is even a bit better; the new setting — the many buildings housing the Smithsonian Institution in Washington, D.C. — allows much freer rein for the already amusing premise.

And for once, all concerned have been content to more or less repeat their winning formula. This sophomore outing for Ben Stiller's high-strung Larry Daley doesn't sacrifice its heart on the altar of more mindless and destructive slapstick, a creatively bankrupt decision that plagues far too many comedy sequels.

No, this romp in the Smithsonian is just as sweet and heartfelt as its predecessor, which means it should make just as much money.

True, the gimmick is just as silly, as well; one cannot apply logic to either of these films. (I never cease to be amazed, for starters, by how many historical figures from various parts of the world return to life spouting flawless English.) You gotta just kick back and go with the flow, and Stiller and returning director Shawn Levy — along with returning scripters Robert Ben Garant and Thomas Lennon — make that pretty easy.

Larry, having survived and even profited from the events in the first film, has forsaken his unusual friends at New York's Museum of Natural History for a new career as an infomercial titan (a calling perceptively skewered in a short prologue). With a client list that's soon to include Wal-Mart, Larry hasn't found the time for those late-night visits to play fetch with the dinosaur skeleton, or observe the evolving friendship between the miniature cowboy, Jedediah (Owen Wilson), and the equally diminutive Roman centurion, Octavius (Steve Coogan).

Hamlet 2: Double trouble

Hamlet 2 (2008) • View trailer for Hamlet 2
1.5 stars (out of five). Rating: R, for teen drug use, brief nudity and considerable profanity
By Derrick Bang • Originally published in The Davis Enterprise, 9.11.08
Buy DVD: Hamlet 2


Steve Coogan can't act.

Not a lick.

And for a guy who has based his career on making people laugh, he's remarkably stiff, forced and humorless. Which I guess, in some circles, is supposed to make him amusing.

Hoping to bond with his new gaggle of streetwise students — like that could
ever happen! — drama instructor Dana Marschz (Steve Coogan, center) leads
them in a spirited movement exercise that eventually will be transformed into
some smutty dance moves.

I have struggled in vain to understand Coogan's rise to fame across the pond; the Brits simply adore him. Much of this seems based on his various TV shows, most notably his long-running performance as Alan Partridge. But like so many TV stars with delusions of grandeur, Coogan's fitful stabs at the big screen have been bewildering at best, and train wrecks at worst.

American fans most likely caught him as Phileas Fogg in 2004's ill-advised remake of Around the World in 80 Days, when he managed to make even the always- dependable Jackie Chan look bad. 2005's Tristram Shandy: A Cock and Bull Story defied description. Since then, Coogan has delivered a few mild giggles with minor appearances in Night at the Museum, Hot Fuzz and this summer's Tropic Thunder.

Less is more, I suppose.

Coogan can be regarded as the British answer to our own Will Ferrell: Both so-called "actors" base their entire approach on the apparent belief that their mere delivery of a line makes it funny, no matter how random the words or clumsy the execution. Like Ferrell, Coogan constantly looks helpless and frequently flails his arms, as if begging for deliverance — or, more aptly, some intelligent direction — while shamelessly mugging the camera.

I can see this being fitfully successful during short TV blackout sketches, but stretching this nonsense across a 92-minute movie is demanding more patience than any audience should be expected to grant.

Hamlet 2, Coogan's newest, merely reinforces his weaknesses. He cannot for a moment credibly inhabit the central character in Andrew Fleming and Pam Brady's bumbling script, and here's the irony: Coogan's Dana Marschz is a failed actor who, having found no other way to succeed in Show Business, has resigned himself to teaching drama at a high school in Tucson, Ariz.

But Coogan is so bad an actor, that he can't even persuasively play a guy who's a bad actor.

One of the film's fitful running gags is the fact that nobody can properly pronounce Marschz's name; trust me, that's pretty much the height of humor.