The incompetent who directed this film is Mike Mitchell, who's probably some buddy of (Rob) Schneider and Adam Sandler, and whose main talent up until this point was cleaning potato chip crumbs off Sandler's couch.
I've had infections that were funnier than Rob Schneider. His most alluring talent appears to be the vacant expression, which no doubt required several years of method training. He looks, he stares, then he regurgitates his line as though he were trying out for a job as the pager at an airport.
Schneider not only acts in "Deuce Bigalow," but he's co-written the script as well. We can say at least one thing about Rob Schneider -- he's an expert in the movies of the Farrelly brothers, because that's where about 90% of this film's jokes originated. Deuce, a fish tank cleaner, manages to "date" women with just about every affliction imaginable: artificial limbs (and she has a blind roommate), obesity, and gigantism. Deuce is followed by a cop (William Forsythe), who pulls out his penis every time they meet. I'm sure the Farrelly brothers would feel honored if this all weren't grounds for a lawsuit.
Deuce gets into the male gigolo business after breaking the fish tank of another gigolo, whose house he happens to be watching. It's a six thousand dollar fish tank, so the only way Deuce can figure to get the money is by renting out some of his pasty white booty. You're short, you're ugly, you're Rob Schneider -- makes perfect sense, right?
The incompetent who directed this film is Mike Mitchell, who's probably some buddy of Schneider and Adam Sandler (who co-produced), and whose main talent up until this point was cleaning potato chip crumbs off Sandler's couch after a long night watching professional wrestling and roller derby. To say this film is somewhat shoddily directed is like saying Al Gore is somewhat wooden.
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