The first Deuce Bigalow movie was the kind of film that made you despair for the future of humanity. But Deuce Bigalow: European Gigolo is so much worse. You’ll want to drink a pint of bleach just to get rid of the bad taste it leaves in your mouth.

This latest exploit for the pintsized male prostitute is set in Amsterdam, predominantly as an excuse for a few shots of scantily clad ladies of the night in the red-light district and a dismal gag involving a cake laced with drugs. Deuce (Rob Schneider) is lured back on the game, just as a crazed killer starts decimating the male hooker population of Europe. The plot is a sickly, weak little thing, starved of attention by some of the grossest jokes and set pieces you’re ever likely to see. A cancer patient sprays red wine from her tracheotomy hole; a girl who was raised in Chernobyl has a fully functioning penis for a nose. Racial stereotypes cross the line from mildly distasteful to downright offensive. There’s nothing whatsoever to redeem this film other than the fact that it may yet prompt the career hiatus that Schneider so richly deserves.

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