Mr. Bean is not a smart man. Repeat that phrase every five minutes and accepting the ridiculous nature of Mr. Bean’s Holiday seems easy. Despite Rowan Atkinson’s absurdity and nearly two-decade-old persona, the 90-minute sequel that never should have been still manages to leave a smile on your face – well, almost.

If you’re not familiar with the comedic empire of Mr. Bean, it’s time to make the trip to your friendly local video rental store, rent the self-titled television series, take the phone off the hook and watch it.

If you don’t have that sort of time, then a short synopsis will have to do: Mr. Bean is a rather ridiculous man and, for the majority of the time, can be seen wearing a red tie to accompany his brown suit that always seems a few inches too short. He is often unaware of his surroundings and, as a result, is the main reason behind the mayhem and destruction left in his wake.

To fully understand Mr. Bean’s psyche, it’s best to compare him to a child. One-dimensional, yet extremely determined; once Mr. Bean sets his mind to a task, he thinks of nothing other than getting to the end of his goal, no matter the consequences.

This formula is nothing new within the plot in Mr. Bean’s Holiday: Mr. Bean finds himself the winner of an all-expense paid trip to the sunny shores of Cannes. Hilarity and ridiculousness ensue as we follow dear old Mr. Bean on his journey from London to the south of France – and boy, is it a journey.

After accidentally causing Cannes film judge, Emil Dachevsky (Karel Roden, The Abandoned), to miss his train, Mr. Bean discovers Dachevsky’s son, Stepan (Max Baldry, Rome), already on board, frantically watching his father as he is left behind. Mr. Bean soon befriends the young boy and vows (more so, mumbles and gestures) to help him find his father.

A series of comic events unfolds as the unlikely pair makes their way to Cannes. The two find themselves out of money and in need of bus tickets, forcing Mr. Bean to mime and dance for money. An acted-out version of Puccini’s “O Mio Babbino Caro” solidify the comedic chemistry between Atkinson and Baldry.

Mr. Bean also makes a foray into technology: a handheld digital recorder, which he won as an accessory to his trip. Along with the standard cinematography, we are privy to watching some of the movie from the point of view of Mr. Bean’s precious digital recorder, giving us a rather up-close view into Mr. Bean’s eyes.

You would think a man making faces into a camera could only be funny once. You’d be surprised.

Mr. Bean also finds romance in the form of French aspiring actress, Sabine (Emma de Caunes, La Science des reves), who is conveniently on her way to Cannes. She joins Mr. Bean and Stepan on their voyage to find Stepan’s father.

Directed by Steve Bendelack (The League Of Gentlemen’s Apocalypse), Holiday relies heavily on misunderstandings, physical and situational comedy, and a lot of redefining reality. Mr. Bean’s mishaps and mess-ups are mostly cheap laughs dotted with the occasional gut-busting laughter.

Situational comedy can only make a person laugh for so long, and eventually tires the nerves of even the most lenient person. There are long, drawn out scenes which push the limits of reality, causing the audience to spend more time saying, “No way,” than actually enjoying the movie.

Don’t expect a blockbuster hit from this rather short sequel. The scenes have all been done before, though perhaps not all in the same order.

Repentance comes from Atkinson, whose transition to this goofy, child-like character is as flawless as its always been. His commitment, even down to his eyebrows, is obvious and gives the film most of its validity as well.

To be reunited with a childhood favorite is always a blast, no matter how it forms itself. Through all the havoc caused and all the troubles that follow, Mr. Bean’s Holiday is quite frankly a lot of fun, no matter how ridiculous and unbelievable the plot appears. In the end, Mr. Bean just really wants to go to the beach – and so he goes, with us gladly following.

Contact reporter Doris Nhan at diversions@dbk.umd.edu.