The Last Godfather

If this were a bid at crossover stardom à la Jackie Chan, he’s failed miserably. Heck, if this were intended to be a comedy, he’s failed miserably.

The flimsy plot has Harvey Keitel — why, Harvey, why? — as a Mafia leader planning on retirement. While his many underlings want the job, he’s going to give it the son he’s never meant: Younggu (Shim), the product of knocking up some woman during the Korean War.

Younggu (that’s pronounced “young goo,” as if that were a joke in itself), is a poorly dressed, ill-mannered, piggish, snoring, clueless buffoon with entirely limited English skills and even fewer social skills. He’s never seen a vacuum cleaner! He can’t pick up a hat! He says “quiche” instead of “capiche”! He thinks a live bomb is a bocce ball! He puts ketchup on pizza!

That’s as clever as it gets, folks. Or maybe this is: Through his own incompetency, he accidentally invents the miniskirt and the Big Mac. Either way, you lose.

Stunningly awful, “The Last Godfather” is as free of ideas as it is free of laughter. It’s a waste of some talented people — OK, two talented people: Keitel and Jocelin Donahue (“The House of the Devil”), who has to play Younggu’s love interest from a warring Mafia family. Kevin Smith regular Jason Mewes (Jay to Smith’s Silent Bob) doesn’t fall into that category; here, he looks like a “Dick Tracy” villain: one who should be named Hairpiece. —Rod Lott

Rod Lott

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