The opening joke is set up and suspended until the very end. Ryan Harrison, Lord of the Violin, is pictured bare-chested and leotarded with thrusting fiddle in hand. On stage he wears formal attire and sends up the concert soloist, poking the concertmaster’s eye out and receiving in adulation a bouquet of flowers, a potted tree and a side of beef, while Lamb Chop shouts his name from the footlights.
At the climax, when Lt. Fergus Falls has rounded up the “freedom fighters” in black, he fires at their feet to make them dance, and they do so in the Celtic manner.
There’s no use in detailing the plot, it’s spelled out on a small chalkboard by millionaire Hibbing Goodhue before he is murdered. “This is about assassination,” he says, pointing to the word.
CGI animation is sent up, a Friggin’ Express train leaves the track to pursue the hero (the Marx Brothers and My Favorite Brunette are the models here). A New York Times critic retailed some impeccable jokes and claimed it isn’t funny, revealing the hubris of an Ellsworth Toohey. The sequence of an escape by laundry truck (which is full of soiled diapers) so offended the Globe and Mail reviewer he assigned his eight-year-old son to write the notice. The lad particularly disliked Kelly LeBrock sticking her tongue in one of Leslie Nielsen’s ears and out the other. “Yuuuck,” said the Globe and Mail’s young journalist, in earnest.