MICKEY BLUE EYES

The Godfather and its sequels advanced the humanistic notion that Mafia folks are just like the rest of us-except for a certain proclivity for murder and other illegal mayhem-and the seeds of this doctrine are now producing a gaggle of gag-laden gangsters, in comedies where old-guard hoodlums are trying to get in step with modern times and assimilate.

Analyze This and TV's 'The Sopranos' presented crime czars who seek professional help (i.e., psychiatrists), and now Mickey Blue Eyes has one invading the rarefied field of art auctions as a method of laundering his dirty money. Vito 'The Butcher' Graziosi (played by Burt Young, so slimmed-down he's barely recognizable) has a son who fancies himself a painter but produces atrocities that mix religious imagery with rub-outs (a gat-packing Christus, et al). No sane person would bid on the work, but the mob antes up.

This clever premise unravels into a very engaging vehicle for Hugh Grant, who plays the poor bloke at the epicenter of this culture-clash comedy-the auctioneer who must parade the embarrassingly bad paintings before a paying public. Such is the price one pays for becoming engaged to a Mafia princess. Gina Vitale (Jeanne Tripplehorn), who tries to disassociate herself from her criminal heritage by teaching school, would rather call the whole thing off rather than see another fianc sucked into the corrupt 'family' business. The auctioneer, Michael Felgate, believes he can have his cake and eat it, too, but in no time at all is known by his new mobster moniker, Little Big Mickey Blue Eyes. Grant has a deliciously funny time of it, trying to dumb-down and butch-up his crisp King's English.

Co-produced by Grant's mate Elizabeth Hurley and speedily dispatched by director Kelly Makin (Kids in the Hall Brain Candy), the comedy gives every impression of being pitched so that Grant can hit homers, which he does with some regularity here-and it's refreshing to see he is not above some wicked self-deprecation if it's connected to a good laugh.

Adam Scheinman and Robert Kuhn's original script had a button-down lawyer stumbling into Mafialand, but, in tailoring that role to Grant's persona, the scenery shifted to the New York art world, which seems to abound in Brits-and this re-direction opens the story up to a sharper, funnier contrast in the two colliding worlds of art and crime. Both worlds come with a hilarious archetype character: James Fox plays the silly-ass Brit as Grant's snooty employer, and Joe Viterelli, with a face that launched a thousand shots, is instantly credible reprising the helpful-henchman bit he performed most recently in Analyze This. James Caan, second-billed as the crime-boss about to become Grant's potential father-in-law, brings humor and believability to his amiably corrupt character.

Nobody crosses Mickey Blue Eyes. It is, first and last, a successful exploitation of Hugh Grant's easy charm-and, box-office-wise, it should carry him to Notting Hill heights.

--Harry Haun