legeros.com > Movie Hell > 1994 > Reviews |
"I had a preconceived notion once. But it turned out to be something that I already thought." - Ernest P. Worrell on thinking Rubber-faced comedian and veteran pitchman Jim Varney is back for another disposable "Ernest" comedy-- this time playing an adventurer trying to recover England's Crown Jewels. What!?! Believe it or not, ERNEST PART CINQ sends our hero scowering the Virginia countryside for a Revolutionary War cannon that may contain the fabled royal jewels! (The real ones, according to his history professor friend, are fakes.) Mr. Worrell's adversaries include construction workers, art collectors, traveling salesmen, and, yes, Her Majesty's Secret Service. Which, translated into Adventure Ernest Style, means a whole LOT of slapstick. See Ernest P. Worrell eat a steel-wool sandwich! See Ernest P. Worrell drink a beaker filled with acid! See Ernest P. Worrell ride a runaway cannon! The first hour of ERNEST RIDES AGAIN goes down fairly easy and actually contains a few honest yuks. Varney's remarkable repertoire of accents and expressions is good for the kids, while the adults won't wince at some of the better one-liners. There's even a funny song in the opening credits-- the Monty Pythonesque "There Once Was a Man Named Worrell." Unfortunately, the film falls apart in the second-half. (Granted, the notion of coherence is a VERY relative concept in the World According to Ernest.) But when Varney climbs aboard a runaway cannon-- and the story dissolves into a protracted chase scene that lasts for the rest of the film-- I'll wager that anyone over the age of eight will quickly lose interest. (Rated "PG"/95 min.) NOTE: Included in the price of admission is the short-film "Mr. Bill Goes to Washington," which pokes NO fun at Mr. Bill Clinton. There is a fleeting "Odessa Steps" gag, though. Go figure. BOTTOM LINE: Strictly kids' stuff. There's a smidgen of adult appeal, but even that evaporates pretty quickly. For sadomasochistic slapstick fans only. Grade: D+ Copyright 1993 by Michael J. Legeros