Some of us are blessed, at one point or another in life, with a special kind of friendship. It’s a magical thing when one can plan a get-together without actually planning anything but getting together, secure in the knowledge that it’ll be a fun time no matter what happens. With certain special friends, one could even sprawl out on the lawn and watch the grass die for hours, and yet it would still be a delight. This is my only explanation for how a film as pointless Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery can be so enjoyable.
At the heart of the picture is a bunch of lovable characters. In spite of the shortcomings that could make a person of Austin’s intelligence unlikable, it’s clear that Austin doesn’t know any better than to be… well, Austin. He may be a moron, but he clearly means well, and he strives to do good work (often with success). Dr. Evil still has an innocence about him because, much like Dr. Doofenshmirtz, he does what he feels he’s supposed to be doing. He’s playing the role in life that he truly believes he’s meant to play, and he tries his best, although he’s constantly conquered by a fool. The Charles Schulz concept of empathy generated by being “more acquainted with losing than winning” applies here. Evil’s son also seems to mean well, but is just confused. This film even found a way to make the flat protagonist from Cabaret likable, and that is no small feat. In spite of the number of scenes that do not really move the plot along, we would watch these characters in any number of situations, regardless of whether or not we were getting a proper story.
This actually may challenge a theory of mine to which I have been quite devoted: “People don’t go to a movie theater to watch a film, but to experience a story.” I now suspect I must amend that to include, “and/or explore ideas,” but might that be redundant? After all, at the heart of a story is the exploration of an idea, namely showing what would happen if a particular character were put in a peculiar situation, with a narrative built to explicate the idea. That, I think, is the root of all storytelling, and perhaps it is because of that that we can forgive a scene or two that would conventionally be forbidden from a screenwriting standpoint (e.g. showing Dr. Evil and his son in a support group, which has no relevance to the plot whatsoever). I may go so far as to say that the deliberate ignorance of conventional storytelling (as seen in the Monty Python films) is not only forgivable, but has a disorderly and chaotic quality that only adds to the comedy.
So, in short, while I don’t think I laughed aloud as much as I would have hoped, I do think this movie has an irresistible joyful quality about it. It is a celebration of freedom, of heroism, and of the 1960s. It is very visually appealing and stylistically crafted. The soundtrack is not only perfect for the story, but would be great to have in my music collection. Its leading lady does a stupendous job at portraying the type of competent and intelligent woman that is most desirable for stories in this age of film. Another thing to note is that I actually had seen the third film in the series many years ago, and although I did not remember it well, I’ve been surprised by just how much I enjoy seeing these characters again and going back to this whimsical world of bizarre lunacy. It may not have been a huge laugh for me, and I may not have related to the characters as much as I would like in order to really care about them, but I must confess that the film is undeniably quite well done, baby.
