Opens October 13, 2000.

Tim Meadows steps out from Saturday Night Live to the semi big-time with The Ladies Man, a goofy and cheesy cinematic sketch piece based on his popular SNL character, an Afro-sporting, 70s-type whose luck with the ladies makes no sense. Unabashedly raw in its sexual comedy, this R-rated spoof of a bigheaded womanizer has little narrative foreplay, and, like its bed-hopping lead character, merely jumps from joke to joke, whichever humorous ditty is most available or ass-ailable.

In this jive-talking junket, Meadows stars as Leon, aka The Ladies Man, who dispenses hilariously macho and simplistic romantic advice on late-night Chicago radio. Along with his adoring Robin Given-ish sidekick and producer Julie (Karyn Parsons), lippy Leon is a torment to the station hierarchy and the good old FCC for his descriptive and crude advice, which usually has something to do with getting into the "doggy position." In fact, much of the comedy is in the doggy position , head down and butt up as it goes for the grossest backward-into-the'70s slant, and well, some of it hits the spot.

Basically, The Ladies Man is narratively like it's lead character, full of come-on and pick-up lines but nothing of substance beyond that. It's a string of quickie comic encounters as Leon is dogged by a slew of angry males whose womenfolk he has had and, in most cases, doesn't even remember. The plot is like one big dog-chasing-its-tail scenario as Leon chases after women, while being pursued by the irate men. Complicating things is that he and his beautiful, coifed-companion have been axed from their nighttime gig and are seeking employment elsewhere on the waves.

Essentially, there are three types of joke variation: Leon applying for a job and talking invariably about "doing it doggy style; Leon fleeing from the enraged men; Leon trying to hook up with every woman in sight. When these three comic come-ons shoot their dramatic wad, the screenwriters toss in the old romantic standard about how love is always just right under your nose and brother Leon then sees the light.

Through it all, director Reginald Hudlin smartly keeps the tone light and the pace aptly larkish, no mean fete when you consider the subject matter and comic protagonist here. Some screwy Busby Berkeley take-offs as the angry men burst into song is emblematic of the comic lightener that keeps Ladies Man winningly tolerable around the comic edges.

A SNL-skit-gone-87 minutes, perhaps, but some of this stuff is quite funny in a gloriously politically incorrect way, and Tim Meadows as the libidinous Leon is actually quite appealing. The best thing about The Ladies Man is the several hundred dollars the producers likely spent on its look, namely Leon's garishly tacky playboy digs, as well as some hilariously retro-'70s duds, including lots of bright and revoltingly matching colors.

A skimpy that doesn't work here is all-purpose, generic big-city Toronto subbing for Chicago. Toronto's squeaky-clean look rubs entirely the wrong way: Guys like Leon don't sprout on street corners in such antiseptic environs - they need a lot of dirt, graft, corner likker stores, and big-haired bimbos to nourish them, and button-down Toronto ain't such a place. It's one area that this Ladies Man should have shelled out some coin and done things right.