Sometime in the early part of this year, a shadowy cabal of tastemakers gathered to determine which films, out of the record 46 entries submitted by countries from around the world, would have the honor of competing for the 2000 Best Foreign Language Oscar. Of the many distinguished entries, the committee chose to bypass such stellar works as Hong Kong's In The Mood For Love, Iran's A Time For Drunken Horses, and Sweden's Songs From The Second Floor in favor of Belgium's Everybody's Famous! Not to denigrate their opinions too heavily (they're free to dislike whatever they wish), but how could this ugly, feeble, lackluster comedy be anyone's idea of motion-picture excellence? Perhaps the committee members had never seen The King Of Comedy, or, more likely, secretly wished that Martin Scorsese's unsparing take on the cult of celebrity had been more of a genial crowd-pleaser. By sheer force of Harvey Weinstein, Everybody's Famous! converts virtually the same dark premise—desperate man kidnaps popular TV performer for one chance in the spotlight—into a feel-good comedy with a happy ending. How is that possible? Vive la difference: 1) Instead of having the hero, a lovable dolt played by Josse De Pauw, kidnap Flemish pop star Thekla Reuten for selfish reasons, he does it out of love for portly daughter Eve van der Gucht, an aspiring singer without a lot of talent. 2) The kidnapping is not a premeditated or violent act, but the result of an outrageous coincidence and a handful of sleeping pills. 3) The victim warms to her captors faster than you can say "Stockholm Syndrome." But despite these heart-warming mechanizations, director Dominique Deruddere (Hombres Complicados) makes a few drastic miscalculations. For one, De Pauw isn't a charming working-class hero in the Full Monty mold, but an excitable loser who's as psychotic in his own way as The King Of Comedy's Rupert Pupkin. But even if he did fill the role of noble father, his sour and contemptuous daughter wouldn't be worthy of his efforts or the audience's sympathy. The only memorable element in Everybody's Famous! is the song he writes for her to perform, an unholy Euro concoction of snarling guitars and Mexican trumpets called "Lucky Manuelo." It's as infectious as whooping cough.