SquirrelBot3000

Holey Moley indeed: whoever greenlit this show must've lost a golf bet with Producer/NBA golfer/show star Stephan Curry. This takes the fun of miniature golf, removes that, infuses it with the pacing of watching real PGA golf, lets co-host Rob Riggle try to riff on the spot (no. Just no.), spends lengthy time providing wholly unnecessary backstory on contestants (one of which is an attractive television show office aid-wonder which show she works on and got lassoed in to be a last-minute player? Maybe this one?) avoid showing you interesting attempts of a putt on interesting holes (rather a 5 second highlight will work instead) and dress contestants in lumberjack outfits and punks and unicorn onesies and have professional LPGA golfers attempt to climb a baby oil-slicked hill course in their golf skirts, camera squarely pointed at their bums as they climb and slip back down, legs first. I mean, wow. I've seen In-and-Out drive-thru lines move faster than this show. The dead air is palpable. The holes are as tepid as real ones (only supersized-wow, double windmill you have to dodge the slow blades!), and you find yourself turning it off and heading for the 19th hole bar to drink the fact away you just lost 20 minutes of your life, despite it ran for 54 and you bailed that quick. This is just embarrassing-and that's saying something when you've got the Bachelor shows on this channel-they're outright Emmy winners in comparison to this hackneyed attempt. Wipeout it is not. Golf, it is not. Mini-golf, yes, but only a little. Just change the channel-it's likely going to be cancelled before it's short summer run anyways.

Because this movie puts everything on its ear. It's a love letter to ten years for all the fans; it's funny, it's sad, it's family, it's sacrifice, it is everything a superhero team film can ever be. There will never EVER be a film like this made ever again. Not this good. Not this memorable. And not this powerful. It is a culmination of many moving parts that finally work as a perfect clock. And it took over a decade to pull it off. You will be moved. You will cheer. And so help you if you don't even tear up. We. ARE. Groot.

If you asked a handful of people of varying ages in America, chances are you'd get about 8 out of 10 knowing who he is. They may not know Rowan's real name, but they know the character.

The sad part about this film is that it's absolutely wonderful, and most people in America aren't going to see it because it's rated "PG". Not a dirty gag, foul word, or joke about someone's junk to be found. And the really amazing part is that it's half comedy, half gorgeous scenery surrounding it. It mocks the Hollywood standard, it has melodious music, it's masterfully filmed, and all the while you just find yourself going "Oh, that Bean." *puts fists on hips*

I can't honestly say I've seen a film this good, this funny, this... pure that can make anyone laugh and find themselves feeling charmed after having seen it. Emma De Caunes stole my heart, Max Baldry is a kid that anyone his age can relate to, and Defoe actually pulls out a great, over-the-top performance without even uttering a four-letter word that he's so very good at snarling out.

You know what? Shame on us America. That we need the big bang, the flatulence, and the double entendre to amuse our soured idea of comedy. What is so wrong with having a character like Bean, a performance like Atkinson's, that we can't find that part of us that wasn't soured on tasteless "humor" but just absorb and let out a barrel-chested sigh of satisfaction after a hearty laugh from a genuine, clever clean joke or visual gag?

We'll go on, with our Jackasses and Scary Movie XII and we'll forget about them five minutes after we've left the theater, but darnit, it's high time a movie like Mr. Bean's Holiday came along. And I for one would pay money to see this again, even if the American know-it-alls of Hollywood think it's better suited in a death slot in September, to be forgotten, sandwiched between sequel after sequel and the banality of teen slasher flicks acted by twenty-somethings whose genre should have died off years ago.

If what Atkinson says is true, that this is the last time Bean will ever appear, then he's gone out on the highest note you could ever bestow on a character so beloved. Shine on Bean, and ride off into that sunset, you crazy, wonderful fella you. And thanks for all the laughs.

... But where's Teddy?