Starring Rowan Atkinson, Peter MacNichol, Harris Yulin and Burt Reynolds Directed by Mel Smith Rated PG, with moderate profanity and comic violence Running time 90 minutes Jack gives this film a rating of 6 out of 10

(Nov. 7, 1997) -- Mr. Bean is the peculiar creation of Rowan Atkinson, the bug-eyed, rubber-faced British comic whose looney behavior already has made him a favorite among PBS-watching anglophiles.

And now Atkinson is diving headlong into American multiplexes in Bean, his first feature-length film, complete with the character's typical stupidity, mostly mute pratfalls, and an inordinate range of objects stuck up his nose.

The film is already a smash in Europe, a fact that no doubt thrills the, uh, bean-counters at Polygram.

Distinctly British humor tends to fall at opposite ends of the spectrum. Either it's extremely droll, ironic and sophisticated; or it's utterly silly. Bean is decidedly in the latter category. Since that means he's sort of Jim Carrey's more reserved British cousin, Bean just might be a hit.

From the opening moments, we learn much about the character. He's so fastidious, he not only shaves his chin, but also his forehead and his tongue. He holds a meager job (a museum security guard) and can't muster enough interest to stay awake. He's obviously a self-absorbed twit, dancing to the loopy beat of his own dysfunctional drummer.

And we get our first clue to the base nature of the comedy when he attempts to generate laughter through a long and noisy sequence in which he blows his nose. Ah, but here's the key: Through impeccable comic timing and sheer, plunge-ahead persistence, he does get the laugh.

The question facing those of us who have found Bean funny, though, is whether Atkinson will be able to stretch his specialty -- ten-minute sketch comedy -- into a 90-minute movie. The answer in Bean is sort of. There are enough pockets of laugh-out-loud humor in Bean to hold audience interest, but not enough consistent hilarity to make the film an unqualified success.

Indeed, the plot of Bean is merely a clothesline on which to hang various funny sketches. The story is simple: Through strange circumstances the inept Bean is selected by a British museum as the "art authority" to accompany the painting Whistler's Mother to America. It is to be hung in a prestigious Los Angeles museum, and Bean is to be guest lecturer.

Atkinson and his writers -- Richard Curtis and Robin Driscoll -- then attach Bean bits to that premise, creating havoc in an airline's first-class cabin, driving Bean's U.S. host family nuts when he blows up a turkey in the microwave, and trying to avoid embarrassment when he spills water down the front of his pants.

In his finest moment, Bean jacks up the speed on an amusement park virtual reality roller coaster, until riders are thrown hither and yon. As you could predict, Bean also manages to destroy Whistler's Mother and has to find a way to restore it.

Many of the bits are funny, but they're interspersed with dull passages. And the screenplay strains to put Bean in diverse locales, such as the amusement park and hospital surgery.

It's also hard to define what's funny for viewers, especially at the silly end of the comedy spectrum. You may fall out of your chair laughing hysterically at Jerry Lewis or Jim Carrey. Usually, I don't. But I do laugh, at least a little, at Bean's antics. Go figure.

Directed by Mel Smith, Bean is largely a one-man show; the film's surrounding ensemble usually functions as straight man. The group includes Peter MacNicol and Pamela Reed as the Langleys (his U.S. host family), Harris Yulin as museum head, and Burt Reynolds in an amusing cameo as an army general who donates the millions to bring Whistler's Mother back to America.

As the general says, "I couldn't tell the difference between a painting by Picasso and a good car crash, but I love my country and don't like the idea of a bunch of Frenchies owning America's greatest painting."

Mr. Bean is of more dubious value, but now he's ours, too.