Two words: hysterically funny.

Just in case you want me to go on, I can say this. As Mr. Bean, Rowan Atkinson is surely one of the finest physical comedians now working in moviedom -- of his contemporaries, only Jackie Chan has a similarly good-natured mastery of body language. And quite frankly, Atkinson makes Jim Carrey look like something of an amateur.

I don't mean to suggest that he's for all tastes. Like Chan before him, Atkinson is an international star who's cracking the American market last of all. Worldwide grosses for his feature film debut have been nothing short of spectacular, but this very peculiar character remains largely unknown stateside. And even though Bean opened impressively against Starship Troopers, there are many viewers for whom Bean will seem overbaked, overripe, and "stoopid."

That's unavoidable. But if you're a fan of idiosyncratic comedy in general or British humor in particular, and especially if you're a devotee of Buster Keaton or Charlie Chaplin, I strongly suggest you give Bean a look. There's nothing remarkable about the film itself, no real technical razzle-dazzle or cleverness on display. The script, which has to do with the insufferable Mr. Bean being foisted off on gullible Americans as an art historian in order to get him out of England for a while, is nothing more than an episodic excuse to put the character through his paces in the face of a small group of gob-smacked Yankees.

And Atkinson runs wild, growling only an occasional line of dialogue in between more meaningful bouts with a hot air dryer, a stuffed turkey, and Whistler's Mother. All the world confouds this completely witless fellow, and we can relate inasmuch as we feel that we've acted the buffoon as well -- either by mistake or, more wickedly, on purpose. Peter MacNicol is the hapless museum curator who offers to put the apparent "Dr. Bean" up for the week, and winds up losing his family, his sobriety, and maybe his job.

It's about 90 minutes of lightweight nuttiness -- despite some truly cringeworthy moments in an operating room -- but it's hard to quibble over subtext when you're in stitches for the duration. Innocently obnoxious and painfully thoughtless, Bean is the nutty professor, the cable guy, and the innocent abroad all wrapped up in one stifling package. And, god help me, by the time the film is over, he comes across as a poignant figure as well -- this feature-length outing is the first time the character has been allowed to contemplate the ramifications of his own actions.

Director Mel Smith (who helmed The Tall Guy, a little comic gem that starred Atkinson alongside Jeff Goldblum and Emma Thompson), bless him, knows exactly how far he can push each new situation without running dry or veering into sentimental territory. Like Howard Stern's Private Parts, Atkinson's Bean delivers just what you expect -- and just enough extra that you feel fully satisfied. It's a cracking good time.