Austin is not about reason; Austin is about laughing so hard in spite of yourself that you wonder how you will explain yourself if later, at work or a dinner party, a friend says incredulously, "You went to see that?" My advice is to sit back and enjoy this guilty pleasure and not worry about the quizzical uninitiated. Just wink at them and say: "Oh, behaaaave. Really, baby. It's totally shagadelic!"

True, it's an acquired taste. This reviewer was not alone two years ago when he dismissed the low-budget prototype Austin Powers: International Man of Mystery as a one-note, overextended sketch. This time out, I found myself defenseless from the start, despite the film's general mindlessness and its sophomoric raunch. The bigger-budget production values allow for fuller comic context; the eminently goofy hero is now backgrounded by groovy art direction, and pop-culture visual references abound with gleeful resonance. In the first film, hapless superspy Austin Powers (Mike Myers) who, despite his yellowed overbite, tilted hornrims, and slightly-too-short velvet pants, fancies himself to be fatally cool in any situation and an almost psychedelic catnip in the boudoir – awakened in 1997 from a 30-year cryogenically frozen sleep. This time, Austin time-travels back to his natural '60s milieu in pursuit of his arch-nemesis Dr. Evil (also played by Myers). Myers wrote the first script and co-wrote, with Michael McCullers, the latest installment; Jay Roach directed both.

The pop phenomenon of Austinmania has most to do with the comic talents of Mike Myers. In Austin Powers, he has created a ridiculous hero with an impenetrable self-confidence and goodheartedness a sort of idiot Don Quixote (despite the fact that in the end he does, however improbably, always get the girl and save the world from evil). The character embodies perfectly a delicate balance between our fascination with the past three decades of pop culture and our capacity for sending it up, for laughing at ourselves.

Although the Austin theatres may be packed with youngsters this summer, it is actually the middle-age audience that is more fully equipped to enjoy the film. Day-glo satin Nehru jackets and breathily earnest lines, like "It's a complete turn-on, baby," are best savored by those who knew them firsthand in all their cutting-edge glory. When you find that the laughter elicited by the film's hilarious satire evokes a tinge of tenderness as well, then then, you will know what the Austin hoopla is all about. Yeah, baby. Too right.