By Steve Daly
Updated November 23, 1999 at 05:00 AM EST

In June, Paramount unleashed South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut to critical delirium and commercial indifference. Spun off from Comedy Central’s MA-rated series, the movie still offered plenty you couldn’t already get at home.

It pushed the naughty-language envelope WAY beyond what first gave the show’s audience the giggles, yet it missed wooing the hordes who pounce on Jim Carrey and Adam Sandler movies. Apparently hampered by the R rating it so gleefully shoved right up against the NC-17 wall, ”Bigger, Longer & Uncut” pulled in $52 million — not bad, but less than 1996’s ”Beavis and Butt-head Do America” did, and presumably less than what Paramount had hoped.

Whatever you think of the poo-obsessed TV show, the ”South Park” movie has much more on its mind than simply being disgusting. Though the visuals are barely advanced over the paper-cutout technique initially used on the TV show, they suit the generally crude, derisive atmosphere just fine.

The script, on the other hand, runs ringworms around the TV show. It brilliantly, eloquently harangues audiences to treasure free speech in the most obscenity-peppered manner imaginable. Mainly it does so through a dozen or so jaw-droppingly tasteless musical numbers.

Written mostly by ”South Park” cocreator Trey Parker with composer Marc Shaiman, these wickedly funny ditties ransack such standards as ”Oklahoma” (recast as the insanely hummable incest hoedown ”Uncle F—a”), ”Little Mermaid”’s ”Part of Your World” (reborn in Satan’s lament, ”Up There”), and ”Les Misérables”’ ”One Day More” (as the kiddie revolutionary pledge ”La Resistance”), retooling them with lyrics every bit as concise and catchy as the real things. If the Marx Brothers were alive, this is what they’d be doing — except they’d have to call their film ”F— Soup.”

South Park: Bigger, Longer & Uncut

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