After a modestly successful run on Saturday Night Live, Rob Schneider faced a film career as a perennial sidekick, subsisting on the table scraps thrown to him by good buddy Adam Sandler. But 1999’s Deuce Bigalow: Male Gigolo launched him as a marginal leading man in the realm of gross-out comedies. Six years and a couple flops later, Schneider and writing partner Harris Goldberg have returned for a sequel that’s even louder and lewder than the first. When lovable loser Deuce winds up on the run after a bizarre mishap involving dolphins and senior citizens, he’s all too happy to join his former pimp TJ (Eddie Griffin) in Amsterdam. The Dutch capital is a playa’s oasis with its liberal drug and prostitution laws, and friendly cops who’ll offer to light your joint. However, there’s a killer on the loose, and the victims are male hustlers (or the technical term of “man-whore” that’s used here liberally). Soon enough Deuce is back on the job, searching for clues while servicing a string of ever-stranger clients, including a woman with a tracheotomy hole and a Chernobyl survivor with a male appendage where her nose should be. Other gags include: dwarf tossing, amputation, diaper fetish, homophobia, fun with Euro-trash, public urination, waxing and a competition for a “golden boner” trophy.
Enjoyment of all this nonsense depends entirely on your tolerance for gross-outs and dick jokes, and whether you find the term “he-bitch” funny the 50th time around. The flick employs a strategy of comedy carpet-bombing, and a few gags do find the target. The film does provide a few laughs — along with that guilty sensation that you’ve just been caught cruising the red light district.
Corey Hall writes about film for Metro Times. Send comments to [email protected].
